Chapter Six
Macy
I woke up before the sun had fully committed to the day. The room was washed in soft light that wasn’t quite bright yet, but I was wide awake after the best sleep I’d had in months. Maybe even in years. I couldn’t even remember. It was nice, that feeling of not being braced for impact all night.
Even with the nightmares that never seemed to stop, I’d fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep after that.
No shadows lurking in corners, no hands grabbing me.
No boogeyman, monsters, or gangsters waiting to attack.
Just sweet, silent darkness and Drew. His arms and his warmth.
The peace that came with being in his presence.
Peace that always came.
I laid there for a minute longer than I needed to staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing behind me.
Drew’s solid presence at my back felt surreal, like my brain still needed a moment to catch up to reality.
I still wasn’t sure that this wasn’t some psychosis-induced hallucination but if it was, I’d rather be here than wherever I really was.
After six straight months of nightmares, light sleeps and jumping at every sound, a solid night of sleep felt like winning the fucking lottery. Cocooned in the safest place I’d ever been—in Drew’s arms—was the best gift I could’ve asked for.
For however long it lasts.
The thought was intrusive, but true. Nothing good ever lasted. My past always caught up with me.
Carefully, I slid out of bed, moving slowly so I wouldn’t wake him.
After that nightmare that probably shocked the shit out of him, he deserved more sleep, so I moved quietly around the room, proud when I didn’t flinch at the sound of a car door slamming in the distance.
Maybe it was having a good night’s sleep or maybe it was just being back with Drew that had me feeling not quite relaxed, but not tense as fuck.
I pulled on jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt that had been washed too many times from my bag.
I’d only brought a few changes of clothes with me because it was all I could reasonably take with me without drawing the attention of anyone who might’ve been watching me.
I made a mental note to hit a thrift store later.
I hated feeling unprepared and not having my own shit.
It fucked with my sense of control, something my therapist said came from the uncertainty of my childhood and my time in foster care.
I didn’t panic or spiral, I just made the mental note and moved on.
I needed to do something.
Downstairs, Drew’s house was still wrapped in early morning quiet.
Last night’s kitchen had been cleaned and put back to rights, making me smile.
Drew had always been messy, I guess the Army had changed him in some ways.
In others, he was the same old Drew. I grinned, shaking my head as I put on a full pot of coffee, strong as hell the way we both liked it.
Or used to, I reminded myself. I had to stop thinking of him like the boy I knew because he was no longer that.
Even if my heart and head still thought he was.
While the coffee brewed, I pulled out ingredients for breakfast after I found a fresh carton of eggs, a can of biscuits, and even a roll of sausage patties. It was our struggle meals, only upgraded.
Cooking grounded me. It had since those days in Drew’s family kitchen when we worked together silently.
It gave me something to do, something predictable to focus on while I processed my emotions and let my wounds start to heal.
The crack of the eggs stopped my spiral of fear.
The sound of the whisk hitting the bowl kept my heart rate calm while the sizzle of butter in the skillet quieted the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears.
It was warm and familiar, and for the first time in a long fucking time, I didn’t feel like I was waiting for something bad to happen.
Drew groaned from the doorway, his voice rough with sleep. “You made breakfast. And coffee.”
I turned to see him padding into the kitchen, barefoot and rumpled, wearing nothing but worn sweatpants slung low on his hips.
His hair was loose around his shoulders, the red catching the early light, his beard scruffy in a way that made my stomach do a stupid little flip.
“You didn’t have to,” he continued, making a beeline for the coffee pot. “But fuck am I glad you did.”
I smiled before I could stop myself.
He caught me staring. “What?” He took a sip while he waited for an answer.
I shook my head, my smile growing bigger with every second my gaze rested on his chest. And arms. And abs, good god, those fucking abs! “Just taking in all the changes,” I answered honestly. “It’s surreal seeing you like this. All grown up.”
He snorted softly, taking another sip with his eyes closed.
A low groan escaped before his gaze met mine again.
“I know what you mean. When I woke up alone, I was sure I’d gotten hit on the head and dreamed the whole fucking thing.
” He took another sip, bigger this time.
“But then I realized I never would’ve dreamed about this particular scenario. ”
Yeah, it wasn’t a scenario even the most pessimistic corners of my brain would’ve conjured up.
“Did you sleep okay?” The humor left his tone, replaced by concern.
“After the nightmare,” I sighed. “Yeah. Better than in a long damn time.”
Drew leaned back against the counter, his legs crossed at the ankle while he studied me. “Do they happen often?”
I thought about lying but what was the point? He’d find out the truth soon enough. “Often enough,” I admitted. “Probably will happen more often now with everything going on. Usually there’s no one else around to bother with it so… sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said immediately. “I’m asking because I want to know.”
My chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. The way he always looked like he meant it when he said things like that. I nodded because I couldn’t find any words.
“I should’ve looked harder,” he added quietly and I could tell he’d been beating himself up about it.
I shook my head to shut that shit down. “You wouldn’t have found me.
The first six months after I was taken from my folks, I was in a group home near the Alabama border and then a foster home in Savannah.
” I swallowed as the truth of our past efforts were reframed by facts. “You weren’t going to find me.”
His jaw clenched. “I looked for you.”
I looked away and blinked away tears that stung my eyes. “Sometimes I could’ve sworn they placed me so far away just to keep me away from you.” That thought had broken me on more than one occasion. “If I’d been closer, I would’ve found you.”
His lips pulled into a lopsided grin. “Same.”
I put the food on the table, and we both made our way there with fresh mugs of hot coffee.
Drew stabbed at his food like it personally offended him, each bite more punishment than nourishment. “I spiraled when you disappeared and I couldn’t find you.” He shoved more food into his mouth, chewing angrily. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here now.”
“Me too.”
We ate in comfortable silence. It wasn’t awkward or forced, just peaceful. It was the kind that came from years of shared space and shared history. When I finally spoke again, it was because curiosity had gotten the better of me. “So,” I began between bites. “What do you actually do as a biker?”
He laughed. “Depends on the day. I’m at the tattoo shop most of the time.
We have a garage and restoration business, so I do custom work and basic maintenance and repairs.
Security at our nightclub or filling in at the gun range.
I go where I’m needed.” He shrugged like that wasn’t a lot of responsibility.
I blinked. “That’s a lot.” I opened my mouth to ask about the illegal shit, but I snapped it shut.
“It is,” he agreed. “I’m either inking or have my arms shoved deep into an engine.” His boyish grin was contagious as hell.
My heart swelled at that smile. “Sounds like a dream come true.” I smiled thinking of our history. “You were always drawing, or reading and trying to figure out how shit works.”
Drew paused and then smiled as if it hadn’t occurred to him until this moment. “I guess it is. I get to do what I love with my friends. What’s not to love?”
“I’m happy for you, Drew.” Of all the people I met in my life, he deserved to have shit turn out well for him.
“I’m happy too,” he replied with a twinkle in his eyes. “I got my best friend back when I didn’t even know it was a possibility.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading slow and steady. Dangerous, maybe, but also real. Drew had always said the sweetest things to me. “More coffee?” I stood as I drained my cup, heading for the coffee pot before he responded.
His deep, amused laughter followed me across the kitchen. “Still can’t take a compliment, I see.”
“I can take a compliment,” I insisted. “Believing it is another story,” I laughed.
“Mace,” he groaned.
I filled my mug and brought the pot to the table to top him up. “It is what it is, Drew. I spent a lot of time in my life with people who were determined to tear me down. You were probably the only person in my life who didn’t.”
His eyes clouded with anger and sadness and his jaw clenched, but just as quickly it vanished, replaced by an arrogant smile. “Yeah, I am pretty fuckin’ great.”
“Modest too,” I joked, rolling my eyes.
“Modesty is overrated,” he answered around a grin before stealing the last biscuit. He held it up as if to ask if I wanted it.
I shook my head, watching his full mouth as he bit into the biscuit, smiling as he chewed. “So, which of your many jobs will you be doing today?”