Chapter Eight
Macy
“Mind if I shower first?” I inhaled the bare skin on my forearm and frowned.
“The smell of ink is a lot thicker than expected.” The truth was, I needed a few minutes alone to reset.
The shop had been busier than I expected with back-to-back appointments, plenty of walk-ins and the constant hum of conversation and machinery.
It was a nice and welcome distraction, but by the end of the day I was just exhausted.
I wasn’t used to being surrounded by people all day.
Okay. That wasn’t exactly true.
I wasn’t used to being surrounded by people who gave a damn about me all day.
Drew and Dagger had checked on me at least once an hour, subtle enough that the clients wouldn’t think they had a fucking basket case working the register. A water bottle I didn’t ask for slid my way. A casual, “You good?” murmured as one of them passed.
They made sure that everything looked—and mostly felt—normal to anyone on the other side of those giant windows at the front of the shop.
Those fucking windows. They took up the entire front of the shop, letting all the gorgeous late afternoon sun filter in and bathe the place in a soft golden hue.
As beautiful as it was, it also made me feel like I was inside a fucking fishbowl.
Anyone who walked past could see straight in. They could watch.
I told myself I was being paranoid, but I knew the truth; I’d be a sitting duck if anyone was actually out there watching. Waiting.
“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” Drew’s deep voice pushed through my thoughts, and I forced my gaze to his. “You good?”
I nodded and he didn’t call me out on the lie.
“Thanks.” My legs shook as I made my way to the bathroom, my mind still fixed on that point in the afternoon when I was wiping down the countertop.
I’d looked up and saw a man across the street.
He stood half in shadow and half in sun, and there was something familiar about his stance. Detective Halloran.
Not gonna lie, it had rattled me. I let myself spin, wondering how he’d found me and what he would do next. What damage Ruiz would visit upon the Steel Demons MC.
And then reality set in and I realized my worst fears didn’t make sense.
There was nothing to link me and Drew, which was one of the main reasons I’d come to him.
There were no old social media ties, and I’d changed my last name so a background check wouldn’t even show we’d ever been in each other’s life.
Unless someone went hunting in old southern high school yearbooks, there was no way to connect us.
So, I took a breath, blinked and forced myself to look again.
There was no Halloran, just a man in jeans and a ratty old t-shirt on his phone, looking up at the street signs. Another man walked past in brown slacks, probably a middle manager on his lunch break.
I went back to answering phones and filling out the appointment calendar.
I convinced myself that it couldn’t possibly be him.
That’s the lie I told myself, but I was still unsettled for the rest of the afternoon.
Jumpy as hell when Dagger came out to ask me about a cancellation.
“Uh, yeah, I told them about the cancellation fee and they asked to reschedule instead. For a full day session.”
Dagger flashed a wide grin. “Thanks.” His smile dimmed and he stepped closer. “You okay?”
I nodded and then shrugged because I wasn’t sure. “Working on it.” It was true, I was working on it. But that feeling wouldn’t go away.
That unsettled feeling had stuck with me and even now, as I undressed and stepped inside the shower I kept seeing Halloran when I closed my eyes.
The hot water and the steam was exactly what I needed, curling around me and loosening muscles I hadn’t realized were clenched tight.
I braced my hands against the tile and let the water pound down my back until my thoughts slowed, until the day fell away.
I was safe.
Mostly.
I finished the shower and took my time toweling off, only exiting the bathroom when all the steam had dissipated.
Inside the bedroom, I moisturized my skin before dressing in freshly washed leggings and a tank top because I didn’t have to hide my scars from Drew.
He’d seen the worst of them when they were still fresh and he didn’t shy away from the newer ones.
And even if he did, what the hell could I do about it?
Drew found me staring at my half-empty backpack. “What’s up?”
I turned with a half-smile. “I need to hit up a thrift shop soon or I’ll have to do laundry every three days.”
He blinked as if he didn’t understand. “I can take you to the mall, there are a few in the area. I think.”
My brows shot up. “And pay those ridiculous retail prices for trendy clothes?” I shook my head. “A thrift shop will be just fine, thank you very much.” I needed to preserve my savings until I could work again but I kept that part to myself.
“We’ll talk about it,” he said, removing his leather vest and hanging it on the back of a chair.
“I’m gonna hit the shower and then I think we should celebrate.
” His boyish grin hit me in the chest. I admired his ability to find a reason to smile even when there didn’t seem to be any reason to smile.
“Celebrate what?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Being together again. Surviving another day. You pick.”
I smiled, watching his sculpted back until he disappeared on the other side of the bathroom door at the end of the hall. I pulled my gaze from the door and headed to the kitchen where I decided to make drinks to celebrate.
Drew was right, there were things to be grateful for and I was. It was time to remember it.
His place was so warm and so lived-in, it immediately felt like a safe space. Honestly, it already felt like home. The place didn’t scream for attention, it simply welcomed you inside with a friendly smile.
I smiled to myself while I grabbed the cocktail shaker and ice tray, but it faded when I turned and looked through the large living room window that overlooked the residential neighborhood.
That window was nowhere near as big as the one at the shop, but it felt just as invasive.
My heart sped up and my palms grew sweaty, and of course that was when Drew reappeared.
“Hey.”
I gasped and put a hand to my chest, happy he couldn’t see the anxiety and fear written on my face. “Yeah, I’m good,” I managed, waving over my shoulder to the front window. “Can you, um, close that?”
“Yeah.” He answered with no hesitation, crossing the room and pulling the blinds down, one by one, until the outside disappeared and it was just us again. “What are you making?” he asked as if he sensed I needed to focus on something else.
“Drinks,” I said and spun around. My mouth promptly went as dry as the Nevada desert.
Drew had always been good looking, even fully dressed.
But now, wearing nothing but a pair of forest green cotton pants that hung low on his hips and hugged his powerful thighs?
He was a goddamn sight to behold. He was all thick, corded muscles and tattoos.
Every detail turned on another part of me.
My nipples went hard beneath the tank top. My core pulsed.
My mind flashed to images of those powerful, slightly calloused hands doing things to me.
“Mace?”
Even the sound of his voice woke up a part of me I thought, or maybe I feared, had died in that room with Diego Ruiz. There was this awareness that zipped down my spine and wrapped around my limbs. It was tight and electric, like my body was waking up after a long, dark winter.
Relief, hot and visceral, pulsed through me. I thought Ruiz had killed that part of me. It had been dead, not dormant, since I made my escape and now it was starting to wake up.
“Mace?” he repeated, now standing even closer. I took in the way his abs flexed with every breath he took. The round pink disks of his nipples. The dusting of hair on his chest and down the center of his belly.
There it is again. Lust smacked into me and with it came mortification at the way I’d been ogling him.
And on the heels of that came relief that I was able to feel anything sexual at all.
Feeling didn’t mean acting on it, but it was a start.
To feeling normal again.
To being me again.