11. Halo
“Jesus Christ,” I say when Arianne’s hands automatically come up to protect her face as she cowers back onto the bench.
While I want to comfort her, put my arms around her, and hold her to assure her I’m not going to hit her, I stand from the bench, walk to the other side of the patio, and sit down on the stones with my hands in the air.
When someone is that scared, trying to convince them you aren’t the thing they think you are doesn’t work. You need to give ‘em space to work through it. A guy having a breakdown on deployment, when he loses perspective and starts seeing the enemy everywhere, even in his platoon, is as likely to come out fighting as he is crying.
Still, there’s a sting to watching Arianne realize I’ve moved. To see her shoulders move away from her ears. To see the shame creep into her pretty features.
“I was just trying to get my phone out of my back pocket so I don’t crack the screen sitting on it.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I nod. This time I don’t tell her to stop. She needs to know she can say whatever she wants to me. I fucked up. “How bad was it back home?”
“Bad enough that you moving on a bench can reduce me to that.”
“Was it unpredictable violence?”
“Yes. Sometimes. And sometimes it was just impossible to do the right thing. Dinner too hot. Dinner too cold. That kind of thing.” She looks at me with tears in her eyes.
I bite back the urge to crawl over to her, to drag her to the floor with me and hold her tightly. For reasons I’m finding harder to ignore, I want to be the one who helps her through this.
But my hands on her would be too much for her to deal with right now. And I suspect my kind of control might be the very last thing she actually needs. She needs unbridled freedom to learn there are no consequences.
I like rules and fun punishments.
“After what happened this morning, I thought you might ask me to leave.”
I shake my head. “So, you accidentally watched me jack off. It’s not a secret that I obviously enjoyed it. I like your eyes on me, kitten.”
Yeah, those fucking expressive eyes of hers are going to be the death of me. Second on the list of things about Arianne that is going to kill me is the way her cheeks blush. If we weren’t both here for Lola, I’d like to tease that out of her a little more.
“Wait, how old are you exactly?” I ask. I’d guessed before.
“Twenty-three. How old are you?”
“Thirty-three. Ten years older than you.”
Niro once called me a Daddy Dom because I like ‘em younger and really like it when they do as I say, especially if the domination is playful. I have my limits, like legal in every state and usually no more than a decade younger.
“You asked me to finish my sentence earlier,” she says. “What I was going to say was I would understand if you need me to leave, because I’d find it hard to pretend that watching you wasn’t arousing.”
Internally, I curse.
“And it’s confusing,” she continues.
I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself. “Why’s it confusing?”
She shrugs and looks off down the garden. “I just left my abusive husband. You would think starting something with another man would be the last thing I need.”
“Sexual urges and finding another man are two different things. You can scratch the sex itch without a relationship. Trust me. I’m a pro at that. But I can’t be that guy for you if we’re going to look after Lola as a joint responsibility.”
“No.” But the single word sounds more like a question. “I mean no. No. You’re right. Maybe lock the door in future?”
Or maybe I won’t.
“Would you be more comfortable living at my dad’s place until it’s sold?”
She shakes her head. “I couldn’t sleep at night knowing my sister was murdered there. But I’m happy to help get things tidied up for sale. I was pretty handy at thrifting and decorating. I...”
She blows out a breath and looks at Lola, who is starting to become restless in her seat. A piece of toast is flung onto the patio.
“You what?”
She glances back at me. “One of the things Patrick used to love doing when he was mad was ruining something I’d put love and care into. He put his fist into a birthday cake I made. He smashed up a dresser I’d spent weeks sanding and refinishing two days after I’d finished it. Once, he even sprayed black aerosol paint over a hallway I’d decorated because he didn’t like the color I’d painted it. He sat on a stool with a beer and watched while I repainted it a color he preferred.”
“One day you’re going to have to explain to me why you stayed with the guy for so long.”
“No money. An unsupportive family. Not knowing where Mercy was. It’s a privileged thing to tell someone to just leave. It implies access to resources and options. And speaking of that, thank you, Jax.”
Yeah, and my fucking heart needs to get with the plan—the pretty girl with big eyes who calls me Jax like I’m a hero needs to be ruthlessly shoved into the friend zone.
“For what?” I ask.
“For looking out for me. For helping me save myself, I guess.”
“You can stay here until we find you a place. I’ll work on finishing the renovation to my bathroom so we don’t have a repeat of this morning.”
She blushes at that, and I don’t miss the way her knees press together. I bite down on the temptation to pry her knees apart. I bet if I touched her panties right now, they’d be damp. She liked watching as much as I liked being watched.
I like a woman’s eyes on me.
They just can’t be Arianne’s.
When I pull up at my president’s house an hour later, he’s on his knees, a ratchet in hand, working on an old bike. He looks up at the sound of my bike, and I wave as I pull onto the driveway next to him.
I kill the engine and climb off. The ride did me some good. My mood is a little more even keel.
“Hey, Prez. Can I get some of the prospects to clean up Dad’s place? There’s still evidence of the…” I find it hard to say the word ‘murder’. Grief hits me hard. Makes me swallow deeply. I force it down so I can continue. “And the house is a mess and I want to speed up getting it flipped to sell it.”
“Of course,” he says. “Should have thought to offer.”
I look up the drive to the house. “Is Rae around?”
King looks at me for a moment. “What do you want with my old lady?”
“Fuck’s sake, Prez.” I’m fed up with people questioning my intentions. “What do you think I’m gonna want with your old lady? I’m hardly going to bring her out onto your porch and fuck her while you stand right there and watch. I want to ask a psychologist’s perspective on something.”
King climbs to his feet and wipes his hands on a rag he pulls from the back pocket of his jeans. “She’s having a shit day, and I’m feeling kind of protective of her. Sorry. She’s around the back in the green house.”
I glance toward the garage. “I didn’t know you built a green house.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t. Came back from a weekend away, and it was there. Niro built it for Rae. Neither of them would tell me why, something to do with one of their weekly chats, but whatever it was made Rae cry, and she made me take her right over to his house to thank him.”
“She’s good for him.”
King scratches his chin. “I got my own theory.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s always said the brotherhood was his family. Having us saved his life. But I think he was just existing. We didn’t save him. He was exactly who he had always been with us, and he annoyed the fuck out of us. Right?”
I consider what King said. “That’s fair.”
“His mom bailed on him, yeah? After his sister died. So, here’s my theory: it’s actually the love of women that’s helped him.”
“He’d hate that.”
“See, I’m not sure he would. Because I’m not just talking Catalina, although I don’t know a single brother who’d take on an old lady like her except him. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s an asset to the club, but would I let Rae anywhere near a fight? No way in hell.”
I chuckle at the idea. “I don’t know, Prez. I’ve seen the two of you fight. I think she can hold her own. You kidnapped her, and she got the better of you.”
King rolls his eyes but grins. “Fair. So, there’s Catalina, for sure. But there’s also his relationship with Rae. He trusts her more than he trusts me. And then there’s little Avery, who we never need to worry about because not only Bates but Niro would scorch earth for her. And then there’s the self-defense classes he’s running with the women. Like, Spark’s all grumbly because Iris loves nunchucks. And for all Niro was a dick to each and every one of them at some point, they’re all leaning in to defend him. If he ever pulled some bad shit and we had to remove his ink, I think the old ladies would make a ring around him and fight us. It’s the women in his life who are helping him heal. Not us. Hence, the green house.”
“Shit. That makes so much sense. You sure Rae didn’t feed you that idea?”
King shakes his head. “Came up with it all on my own.”
“What did you come up with all on your own?” Rae says, walking towards us with a wide sun hat on her head and gardening gloves on her hands.
“A way to fix this bike, Duchess.”
Rae’s smile says she knows King is lying. “Hey, Halo. You want a drink? Was just about to get something.”
“I have a question for you. Personal, if King’ll let me ask you it in private.”
“In these matters, Uther has no say. Of course, you can ask me a question in private, and Uther can act like a civilized human being instead of a neanderthal.”
By the time she finishes speaking, she’s underneath King’s arm, looking up at him, and he’s looking down at her like she’s the fucking sun.
“It’s kinda cute how you can make him lose that death glare of his, Rae.”
Said death glare returns, and King aims it at me. “I’ll go get us some drinks.”
When he leaves, I face Rae. “What’s the best thing I can do to help a woman who’s been abused?”
“Mercy’s sister?”
“You know about her?”
“Halo, we have a group chat that includes Gwen, queen of all gossip. Of course we all know about her. The best thing you can do for her is to get her to talk to people. Police first—get that face of hers documented before the bruising is gone. A good therapist. Someone who has the skills to help her process all the complex emotions she’ll be feeling. Friends. She needs other women to lean on.”
“I already introduced her to Briar and Iris. I felt like they might have something in common with her. And she met Gwen at the store the other day.”
Rae nods. “A good start. What about Lola’s first birthday? If you host a party at the clubhouse, you could introduce her to the rest of us.”
“Shit,” I mutter. “Haven’t organized anything yet.”
“Want me to do it for you? I have a bit of time, could make a few calls.”
I’m ready to hug my president’s old lady. “Could you? I think Arianne already has enough to adjust to.”
“What about you, Halo?”
I shake my head. “If I’m gonna flip Dad’s house so I can sell it, I need to be there, not organizing a party.”
Rae touches my arm gently. “I’m not talking about the party. I’m talking about you. Your father was just murdered in his own home by someone you believe is related to you. That must be a lot to handle.”
My jaw goes slack for a second. “King telling you club business now, Rae?”
“He’s worried about you. So am I.”
“I’m solid.”
“There’s a difference between being solid and processing loss.”
Something wavers in me. I suddenly feel unsteady. “Honestly, Rae. I’m good. Just getting on with things.”
“You’ve racked up loss, Jackson. Your mom. Your dad. Friends you served with. Friends you rode hard with. Loss comes at a cost. You can’t just swallow that. It becomes a powder keg.”
“Appreciate you watching out for me, but I’m fine.” I run a hand over my face. My palms are sweating. “I gotta go. Got some errands to run. Thanks for the advice.”
“Understood. But I’m here for Arianne if she needs me. And I’m here for you too, Halo. You’ve been the solid one for the club through everything that’s happened. The reliable one. It’s okay to not be occasionally.”