Thirty-Nine
I heard his bike before I even realised what it was I was actually hearing. I think it was the first time I’d even seen him on it, because the first time we met, he’d been in an accident, and left in a van, and the second time, well, he was recovering from being stabbed, so no bike.
I guessed his bike had been repaired, and he was fit for riding it again, but the most important thing was how hot he looked astride the big beast, with his helmet on and his eyes… oh shit… firmly on me. Busted .
I pulled the door closed behind me, and stepped down the front steps towards him. He didn’t get off the bike, merely waiting me out to see if I’d approach him, and I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see him properly, to smell him, and feel him holding me. I didn’t deserve it, but I wanted it so badly.
“If you just wanna look at me, take a picture, and you can go to bed and rub one out, while you look at it.” His voice was low and rough, and I’m not ashamed to say it made me wet almost immediately.
Everything about the man made me think about sex, because he was like sex on legs, and I know people always say that, and think they mean it, but I really really do.
“I’d rather take you to bed.” Oh my god , did I really just say that?
Torch lifted off his helmet and stared me down, and I swallowed hard. He was pissed off, and didn’t he have a right to be?
“I’m not quite that easy, but if you’re willing to talk to me at last , I could come in for a coffee?”
I nodded, because being away from him, for days now, had made me realise the stupidity of my actions. I’d run from him to avoid rejection, to avoid him pushing me away, or discarding me, because I’d let him down. So I was basically depriving myself of him, just so he couldn’t do the same damn thing to me.
Okay, there was the very real fear that I’d end up tied to a chair in their basement, but Lissa and Ally had both sowed seeds in my heart that made me think maybe that wouldn’t happen, because the club wasn’t made of men like Micro. It was made of men like Torch, and I couldn’t see him ever willingly harming a woman, least of all me.
“Please. I do need to be honest with you about why I left, but you’re going to be angry, and maybe even hate me. I guess maybe you already do after I left like that. I’m so sorry, Torch. I panicked.”
“Yeah? Sounds like how I felt when I got back and realised you were gone,” he said in a gruff voice, as he angled his motorbike on the metal piece that flipped out to rest it on. He stood beside it for a moment and jerked his chin at my house.
“I’m sorry. Please, come on in, and we can talk.” I was so grateful that he’d turned up like this, and that he was willing to talk to me at least. That he cared enough to reach out to me, when I’d run like a coward.
I locked up after we were inside, and I headed straight for the kettle, while Torch set his helmet neatly on the long wooden shelf by the door, and kicked off his boots, lining them up neatly. Even angry with me, even hurting because of what I’d done, he was doing his best to keep tidy, and not stress me out.
“Thank you,” I whispered as he joined me in the kitchen, and leaned against the counter with his arms folded. He shrugged lightly, but didn’t answer.
His eyes were fixed on me, like he was trying to figure me out without words, or maybe even just reminding himself of what I looked like, before he dumped me for real. I swallowed hard, lowering my eyes, because somehow I was worried he’d figure it out, before I could tell him, and then he’d walk way.
“Look at me.”
I couldn’t find the courage to do it, instead focusing on the mugs I’d already prepared, and wishing there was something I could pretend to be doing, while he scrutinised me like that.
“Jesus, Grace, am I such a monster that you can’t even look at me? Is that why you left? Because Micro was a psycho, and somehow you think that means I am too? Haven’t I proven who I am to you by now?” My eyes flew up to meet his, and my stomach clenched at the pain I saw in his expression, at the way he was taking my disappearance as some kind of fear of him.
“What? God no. How could you think that?” I almost reached for him, but maybe he wasn’t mine to touch anymore.
“What am I supposed to think, Grace? I was in hell, with so much crazy shit going on, and I thought you were my safe place, but you were just gone. Why else would you leave, if not because you’re afraid of me or something? The only alternative I can think of is that you’re done with me, is that what’s happening here?”
“No! Oh god, I’ve made such a mess of things, Torch.”
“No arguments here, babe.” He walked away from me, out into the living room, but it felt like a chasm had opened up between us, and that dismissal hurt so much that I abandoned the drinks, and followed him, needing to close that distance before it swallowed us up.
“I’m so sorry, Torch, what can I do to make this up to you?”
He dropped heavily into one of the armchairs, and rested his hands on his thighs.
“You could try being honest with me, Grace. Was it something I did? Was I being too, I don’t know, needy or distracted? Was I too rough? Are you scared I’m like Micro? Are you scared the club is full of assholes like that? What, Grace?! Just fucking tell me!”
I dropped to my knees in front of him, resting my hands over his. Already I felt better, more settled inside, like I could speak to him easier from down here, where he could see I was being honest, and not hiding anything from him.
“You’ll hate me,” I whispered miserably, wishing his posture would soften a little, or he’d cover my hands with his, instead of the other way around.
Torch
S eeing her again was so much more intense than I’d expected. We’d only been apart a few days, but it felt like weeks. It felt like we were almost strangers again, and I fucking hated that. I just wanted to reclaim her, to remind her that she fucking belonged to me, but I was still struggling to understand if she even was anymore.
“I’m not feeling hatred for you, Grace, but I’m fucking hurting, and I need to understand why you left me, especially at that moment, when we came back from seeing Micro die. I fucking needed you so much, and you were gone.”
Grace’s head shot up fully, and her mouth dropped open.
“He’s dead? What happened? When Ally and Lissa said he was gone, I thought they meant he’d been arrested. My god, Torch, I’m so sorry.”
Fucking hell. That wasn’t the issue right now, and I didn’t want her focusing on it.
“Forget that right now, and explain, Grace. I need to fucking know.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“But now it’s worse. I thought he’d just be arrested. I thought he had been, that he was gone, and you could move on, but he died? My god, this is all my fault!”
“Grace,” I growled, beyond fucking frustrated because seeing her cry was eating away at my anger, and making me want to comfort her instead. I needed those damn answers before I could give in, and she needed to start talking. I pulled my hands from beneath hers and placed them over hers instead, sandwiching them between my thighs and my hands. Don’t give in and fucking hold her yet.
“I was trying to protect you, Torch, you need to know that,” she said with difficulty, because she was practically fucking gasping and hiccupping from crying already. She also looked so fucking distressed that it was eroding even more of my rage.
“Stop stalling,” I gritted out, wrapping my fingers around her hands and squeezing them gently, trying to soothe her enough to get her fucking words out.
“I made the call, Torch! I wanted to make sure you didn’t have to kill him, but he died anyway! I betrayed you, and it didn’t even help you!”
She pulled her hands away from me and covered her face as she sobbed, and for a moment my mind was whirling so much that I stayed frozen in place. She made what call? No, that couldn’t be right, could it? She had to mean something else.
“Babe, what the hell are you talking about? You made what call?”
Her hands lowered and she rubbed at her eyes, probably hating how messy she felt right now, but I couldn’t let her retreat into that shit right now either.
“What fucking call, Grace?”
She swallowed hard and clenched her fists, as she lowered them to her lap.
“I called the police about Micro. I wanted him gone, and you safe, but I was wrong to do it. Please just know that I had the best intentions. I wanted-”
“Jesus, woman. Will you quit it? You didn’t make the call, because we know who did, and it’s all fine. Will you stop messing around and tell me what’s really going on?”
Her forehead creased as she gazed up at me.
“I made the call, Torch.”
“No, Lissa did. Micro was a sick fuck, but she felt she had to do something, because he was her half-brother, and she was conflicted. She’s a good person, babe, just like you, but she owned up. It’s all good.” More tears rolled down her cheeks, which made no fucking sense, because I was telling her this shit was settled.
“No. Oh god, Ally wasn’t making that up then. She… she’s in the basement now? It should be me, Torch. I’m the one who did it, and I don’t know why she’s covering for me. She must have figured it out after we talked the other day,” she murmured, barely speaking loud enough for me to hear now, because she was thinking out loud at this point.
“What the fuck are you on about? Lissa owned up, but she’s not in the fucking basement, babe. Why would we put her in there? I keep telling you we’re not fucking monsters.”
I gave in then, leaning down and grabbing Grace’s arms, dragging her up into my lap and holding her against my chest, and fucking hell, this is where she should always be. Her warmth seeped into me through our clothes, and melted the ice around my heart, helping me breathe deeply again. I didn’t even realise how fucked up I’d been over her leaving.
“So let me get this straight; you called the cops to shop Micro, because you thought it’d protect me, and then you ran, because you thought we’d torture and kill you in the basement for it?”
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she nodded slowly, maybe finally realising how fucking stupid she’d been.
“And why the fuck did you think we’d do that? Micro betrayed the club, and raped and murdered people, and that’s why he was getting that treatment. Making a call doesn’t get someone down there, babe, least of all a fucking old lady. We treat our women with respect, and yeah, okay, maybe in the bedroom things get nasty, but that’s the only place it happens.”
“But I thought… I thought anyone who betrayed the club would get punished like that.”
“I’m kinda thinking of punishing you in a completely different way, but only because we’ll both enjoy it, doc. You made a lot of assumptions, and you hurt us both in the process. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just fucking talk to me about this?”
“But Lissa said…”
“She said what?”
“Ally was in the basement, and she’s the President’s old lady, Torch! If she can end up there, then surely any one of us can!”
Jesus fuck. Could Lissa have at least fucking explained that shit to her?
“Ally was in there when we first met her, for something else she did to the club, but Reacher fell for her, and she went from there to his fucking bedroom.”
“What did she do?”
“Long story, and now’s not the time. We’ll talk about you calling the cops, but first just fucking stay in my lap for a while, because I thought I’d never have this again.”