Chapter Two
Macy
Drew didn’t say anything. He didn’t blink. He didn’t even fucking breathe. His chiseled jaw flexed, the muscles ticking hard, and all that anger rolling off him made my stomach drop. I just knew he would send me away.
This was what happened when I asked for too much.
When I needed too much. This was what I got for forgetting my place in other people’s lives.
I was the only person I could rely on now.
Drew had always had my back, and it was instinct to hop on a bus to Nevada to find him.
Instinct and six months of running that had stripped me of some of the armor I wore to keep myself safe.
But I should’ve remembered that time changes shit.
I straightened my spine and pushed off the plastic chair, determined to stand even though my knees trembled. I wasn’t going to fall apart in front of him. Not after everything I’d survived. Not anymore.
I forced myself to meet his angry stare.
“Sorry,” I said, forcing the word past the tightness in my throat.
“Shit, that was a big ask. And, well, we don’t know each other anymore, do we?
” I reached into my back pocket for my phone, pretending my hands weren’t shaking.
“It was worth a shot, right? I’ll find a ride back to town. Don’t worry about me.”
I turned away before my emotions had a chance to overflow. Tears threatened but I forced them back because I didn’t cry anymore. Tears didn’t help shit and they never had. They didn’t stop beatings or kidnappings. Didn’t stop bad shit from happening.
Tears were useless.
“Macy.” His voice, deep and restrained, hit my back with the force of a wrecking ball.
It was so low it was almost a growl, which should have scared the shit out of me, but it didn’t.
Didn’t even come close. It was something else altogether, something which I’d felt so sparingly in my life, I wasn’t sure that it was actually lust.
I shook my head, refusing to turn. I couldn’t face him.
“Macy,” he said again, deeper this time. It was that low urging tone he always used when I wouldn’t let him see me cry.
A short breath stuttered out of me, but I still didn’t turn. I stood taller and squared my shoulders before speaking. “It’s okay, Drew. It was a long shot, but it was one I had to take.”
“Mace,” he flat out growled this time. “Look at me.” It wasn’t a request but a demand.
Slowly, I turned and lifted my chin until my gaze slammed into his.
Yeah, that’s attraction. It knocked me back a step because it was so unexpected.
So unwanted and honestly? Unnecessary. If anything, it was hard not to look at him.
Drew had always been attractive, but now he was hot as fuck and bigger than ever with long, reddish-brown hair that brushed his shoulders, thick arms covered in ink and a fiery beard that served as a reminder that he was no longer the little boy I’d known and loved.
The only thing that was the same were those stormy gray eyes that promised me the world.
“Yeah,” I finally squeaked out in a soft, low voice I barely recognized.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, stepping towards me with a certainty and a confidence he’d always possessed. “So let’s get that out of the way right fucking now.”
My brows lifted. “What?” My head was spinning.
“You don’t go anywhere without me,” he continued, tone so firm it pinned me right where I stood. “Not until this dirty fucking cop is buried somewhere in the desert. Got it?”
I blinked, trying to process his words. Was he offering to kill him? I shook my head too quickly. “I’m not asking—”
“That’s right,” he cut in, sounding angry again.
“You’re not. I’m telling you that I’ll keep you safe and do whatever it takes.
” He moved close enough that I could smell the faint scent of him, leather and earth.
It was similar to the scent I buried my face in when I sought refuge from hell in his small bedroom when we were too old to do so and too young to know why.
“Wherever I go, you go. You stay with me. You come with me to the shop. To the clubhouse. Anywhere the MC needs me.”
My head spun until I was dizzy. “What are you saying?” The question came out on a soft whisper.
His smile grew slow and warm, and achingly familiar, like he’d peeled back ten years, and I was staring at the boy who used to make me laugh even on the worst days. “I’m saying that once again I’m riding in to save your ass.”
A laugh burst out, surprising me. “You always were good at being my White Knight.”
His smile softened into something serious, something older.
“This cartel shit is deadly, Mace. You have to listen to me.” His gray gaze locked onto mine, deadly serious.
“Don’t go off half-cocked. Don’t assume you have to do this alone, and for fuck’s sake if you see or hear from that fucking pig again, you tell me immediately. Yeah?”
I swallowed hard, fighting harder with the tears that kept trying to surface.
The gravity of what Drew was offering me, the protection and the fight against the cartel.
He was taking it on for me and the weight of that pressed down hard on my chest. “Yeah,” I finally breathed.
“I got it, Drew.” My gaze flicked to the bold white letters on his vest which read ‘Vandal’. “Should I call you Vandal now?”
That crooked, boyish grin returned, lighting up his whole face. “You pick. Maybe call me Drew for a while, makes it feel like old times.” His gaze softened. “Only better.”
“Well,” I smirked. “It couldn’t possibly be worse, right?”
He let out a masculine laugh, low and a little rough around the edges.
It was a sound that wrapped around me like a warm jacket.
His arm slung around my shoulders just like he used to, except now he was bigger and heavier and radiated the heat of a man who could break someone in half if he needed to. Or chose to.
I didn’t flinch or tense at his words, and that realization hit me deeply and a shaky breath escaped.
“Famous last words,” he joked. “But at least we’re together, which already makes it better. Come on.”
For the first time in six months, maybe longer, I let myself breathe.
Let myself lean on someone else.
I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone anymore.