Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Hunter
Release your rage. I will catch you when the dust settles.
W ith a nod at Mark who will be the point of contact for members not coming to the campground, we spill out into the startling Texas sunshine. Four of the trucks have already left, while mine and William’s still wait for us. Cheryl has her arms folded and stares at the passenger side of my truck with a frown. I tilt my head, trying to see past the glare of the sun to what, or rather who, commands her attention.
I eat up the space, my heart sinking with the knowledge it can only be Eleanor. Despite her insistence she is not able to socialize, she manages it exceptionally well, but the mask has clearly slipped if Prez’s wife is staring at her with concern.
She glances at me and takes a step back, allowing me to reach the cab. Outwardly, Eleanor looks fine. She sits ramrod straight in her seat with her arms relaxed at her sides, but her blank eyes are so utterly and completely void of emotion it is terrifying to witness. Fuck. I can’t have been gone for longer than fifteen minutes, but she has slipped into this state. And she’s deep. Gone. Vacant. We have a ninety minute drive, and I stupidly thought her fears could wait until then. I put her second.
“How long?” I ask Cheryl. She’s experienced, witnessed, and even been part of the solution, for people with psychological scars. She knows the kind of danger this behavior presents.
“About two minutes after you went inside.”
William follows and comes to greet his wife with a quick kiss. “Why are we hanging around here?” He’s less emotionally aware, but as soon as Cheryl nods toward Eleanor, his brow crumples. “What do you need?” He’s the more practical one of the pairing, wanting to fix things with physical acts, because that is easier for him to understand. In this case, I think that is exactly what is needed.
“I’ll be a few hours behind you,” I call out as I round the cab and climb inside the driver’s seat. Eleanor’s eyes close slowly, then open, like she’s aware she has to lubricate her eyeballs, but it’s a drain to do so. I reach over her and yank the seatbelt into place. Still nothing. Hang on, trouble, while your breakdown might be bad timing, I have been expecting it. A mind can’t contain that much pain and stress without an outlet and not fracture.
William nods, and they both jump in their truck and peel out of the compound. I turn to face Eleanor, breathing a little easier now we have fewer eyes on us. One attempt is all I’ll allow myself before I put into motion what I hope will be healing for her. My gut urges me to not touch her, even if my heart is thrashing in my chest to shake her back from the horror of her past.
“Eleanor?” Nothing. It’s like I’m not here. No, it’s like she’s not here. “You have until I start this engine to snap out of this shit and talk to me. I know how that seemed to you, like we were creating two layers of humanity and suppressing the women, and I know that is a trigger for you, but we can only move past this if you speak to me.”
I grab my phone and type out a message to prep the people I need help from and sigh as I turn on the ignition. The engine rumbles to life, and I turn the truck in the opposite direction of camp. I leave the radio off and don’t bother trying to reach her with words, since they’re clearly falling on deaf ears. There is a rising panic inside me that is as much about my history with Steph as it is with Eleanor. Fifteen minutes later, we pull into the warehouse district. We have a few businesses located out here, but I’m here for a specific one.
I park between the only other two vehicles, both bikes, meaning Tom and Wes are the only ones here. Good. I want as few witnesses to this as possible. I snap our seatbelts off before rounding the truck and opening her door.
“Get out, Eleanor.” I throw steel into my voice, and heartbreakingly, she follows the order. It would be less severe if she’d blanked me.
She slides out of the truck and doesn’t move. I slam the door closed behind her and grab her hand to pull her along with me through the metal door. Tom, a fifty-something MC member married to Wes for the last four years, came up with the idea for this place eighteen months ago, and it’s proved popular with locals and tourists alike. They’ve even had a couple of corporate events for big companies. I wonder what that says about the world as a whole.
Tom nods at me. I prepped him a few days ago after she shared the story of her tattoo with me, and I warned him I might be dropping in and to not offer small talk or stop me.
“Room is ready for you like you asked. Gear for you both is outside.”
“Thanks, man.”
Eleanor follows like a doll. I glance down at her feet, noticing she swapped her typical heels for shit kicker boots, which will work well, but she still needs the rest of her covered properly. I move her limbs around, securing the shields in place to protect her, mirroring with my own gear, then I grab the face shield and secure it behind her head.
I push open the door, finding the room cleared of previous detritus. Everything is fresh as a daisy and ready to be destroyed. There’s a risk in putting a weapon in her hands when she’s disassociated. She could bash my head in, but I’m willing to go all in. For her.
“Eleanor, hold this,” I snap as I thrust the baseball bat into her hands.
She stares at the wall, but her fingers robotically wrap around the handle.
I position her in front of the wrecked car, which still has most of its bodywork and windows intact. Fuck, I hope I know what I’m doing. I probably should have called Gail, as I’m pretty sure this is not approved therapy.
I put my hands on her shoulders and lean down so my lips are at her ear. “You were born to kneel, Eleanor, made only to serve man. Your worth is in your ability to produce me a child.”
A tremor runs down her arm, and she tightens her fingers around the handle.
“After I’ve used you up, and you are nothing more than a barren, broken husk, you will slip into the darkness. Your name means nothing. You will be forgotten, have no lasting presence in society. You don’t deserve to put your mark on this world. None of you do.” The words are well placed, meant to cut deep. I know she doesn’t want fame or thanks, but she does and already has helped so many others. Her name is whispered in reverence around the globe. I have to force the words out. Each lie puts a crack in my psyche, so I can only imagine what it must have been like to grow up with all of these things being fed to you as the truth.
“Your brother knows it.” She rolls her shoulders. “As did your mother, who regretted the day you were born. What kind of daughter leaves her parent to be murdered?”
A low keening leaves her throat. A wounded child struggling for life. For freedom. To be heard.
“Let it out, Eleanor.”
I barely have time to react as she pivots and raises the bat overhead. I hold my hands up as her wide wild eyes focus on me. “You back with me, trouble?”
Her jaw ticks as her body trembles. “Yes.” Her voice is a shell of itself.
“Then turn the fuck around and pretend that car is Jonathan. Picture all the men that have hurt you and those you care about. Give them what they deserve.”
The bat wavers, her arms dropping slightly. “I’m frightened,” she whispers.
Well this is progress. “Of?”
“If I let myself remember and feel, I might not be able to turn it off.” A tear leaks from her eyes. “What if I lose myself?” Her free hand rises to her chest. “It’s dark in here, Hunter. Pitch black.”
I take a tentative step toward her, and when she doesn’t attack, I close the distance and wrap my hands around her, cradling the back of her head against my pounding heart. I want to kiss her right now, but it might break the progress we’ve made.
“I’d crawl through the darkness to feel your heartbeat next to mine. You have fought for others for so long, you don’t know how to care for yourself. You are neglecting the one woman who has given so much of her life to the greater good. If you can’t be selfish for yourself, then I will do it for you. Let me be your guiding light. Let me hold you up and be the immovable force at your back as you slay your demons.”
Her nod is almost imperceptive. She’s letting me in. It’s a rush of relief. “Where are we?” she asks.
I grin. “This is the first step to facing that darkness together, trouble.” I gently push her shoulders and spin her around. “Imagine it’s Jonathan or Christopher, and let yourself feel. You are safe. I will always come for you.”
“I’m supposed to hit it?”
I grab my bat and take position on the other side of the vehicle with a sharp nod. “Ready?”
She drags in a breath, squares her shoulders, then raises her bat again. The scream is blood curdling and freeing. She attacks the windows, glass raining down around us while the metal groans under our assault as it loses its battle and crumples in on itself. The transformation in her is mesmerizing. I know she’s never going to be the sunshine, cuddles, and over-the-top romance kind of girl. And I don’t want to change her. She’s perfect. However, if I get to be part of her healing journey, become one of the few she trusts to not hurt her, that’s better than any date we could plan. That’s priceless.
Minutes tick by, and the bat drops to the floor with a dull clatter. She tugs off her protective clothing as she escapes out of the door and sprints down the hallway. Wait. What did I miss?
“Eleanor!” I shout as I discard my gear and jog to catch up to her.
The front door is already swinging shut, and Tom lets out a low whistle. “Enjoy that, man,” he says. Weirdo.
Eleanor scrambles inside the driver’s side of the truck, the door still open. I reach it and grab for her. I thought we had made massive progress. I don’t know what changed. I didn’t see anything. This is why I am not a therapist.
“Eleanor, what’s wrong?”
She slides onto the passenger side confusing the fuck out of me. “Get in. Now.”
My gaze narrows, but I climb into the truck without hesitation and settle into the driver’s seat. She launches herself over the console and into my lap, her hands threading into my hair as she yanks my head back before closing the distance and kissing me like she’s about to die if she doesn’t. Her body still trembles from the adrenaline and euphoria. She grinds down on my lap, my cock already hard from watching the woman I’m falling for face her emotions and own them. Palming her ass, I help her find the friction she wants. Needs.
She tears her lips away from mine, both of us panting for much-needed oxygen. Her hands fumble with my belt, and she has the buckle and first two buttons undone before I can think straight. I grab her hands, gently locking her wrists together. “I’ll get you off, trouble. Don’t worry about me. This is about you.” Blue balls never killed a man. I think.
She leans forward, seizing my bottom lip between her teeth and biting until I taste blood. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No. I force myself to take a deep, steadying breath. It’s about her. I must have released her hands, because she reaches down and throws her boots off before undoing her jeans, lifting her ass, and straightening her legs.
“Take off my jeans, Hunter. Now.”
I’m in awe of the wild creature before me. If I wasn’t already gone for this girl, this would seal my fate. My hands tuck into the sides of her jeans, and I yank the offending fabric over her ass. My foot catches in them, finding purchase so she can free her legs.
I admire the black silk panties. “Those too,” she snaps. I grasp the thin bands at her hips and tear them free. In a breath, she has my cock free and has it positioned at her entrance.
My hands become vices at her hips. She squirms, playing havoc on my good intentions. “You aren’t ready for me, trouble. Take it easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her hands tug up her shirt, giving me a fucking fantastic view of those perfect full tits. She grabs my shoulders and stares into my eyes. “Let go, Hunter. I will take it at my own pace, I promise.”
My hands relax, and she snaps her hips down, and I almost come as her pussy strangles my cock at the sudden intrusion. She cries out my name, but not in pain, in utter desperation to help her reach her release.
“Fuck.”
She swivels her hips, taking me deeper. “Hunter, please,” she begs.
“Lean back.” I guide her to lie against the steering wheel. “Put your hands on the windshield, trouble. This is going to be rough.”
Her arms arch and lie flat against the window, and I grab her hip with one hand, putting pressure on her clit with my thumb. I snap my hips up, testing her body, but she takes me smoothly, her tits bouncing and making my balls draw up tight.
“Harder,” she demands.
I oblige, and her back arches as she topples over the precipice only a few moments later. Her orgasm triggers my own, and I definitely see pretty stars. My arms come around her and pull her toward me, our lips finding each other as if they have hundreds of times before. The kiss is soft, slow, searching, and utterly breathtaking. With a sigh, she lays her head over my heart, which has slowed to a steady cadence.
“Don’t suppose there’s any way I can persuade you to ditch the camping trip and just come home with me to do that again and again.”
My breathing falters. “Say that again.”
She snorts softly. “Again and again? What, are you not up for the challenge? I have toys?—”
My hand tangles in her hair, and I yank it back. There is a wicked look on her face, and I can’t tell if she’s messing with me. “Where do you want to go?”
She blinks, pulling against the grip I have on her hair. “Home?”
My eyes flutter closed, and I suck in a breath. Doesn’t she realize the significance? I know she’s said it before, but everything has changed now.
“So, no camping?” she tests.
My lips twitch. “Sorry, trouble, camping isn’t optional. Don’t worry, though. I brought toys in case you wear me out.”
Perhaps happiness should be eyed with caution, because when you think the universe isn’t trying to fuck with you... it kicks you in the head.