Chapter Twenty-Eight
Macy
I leaned back in my seat, full and warm and stupidly content, rubbing my hands over my stomach as we stepped out into the cool night air. “Best burger I’ve ever had,” I said, grinning at Drew. “Or maybe it was the bacon.”
He laughed, the sound was easy and unguarded. “Bacon does make everything better.”
I felt good. Better than good, actually.
It was the kind of lightness that snuck up on you when you weren’t looking for it.
The afternoon at the gun range with Drew had given me more than basic gun knowledge.
I knew how to shoot a gun, sure, but it had given me something I hadn’t realized I was starving for.
Confidence.
It wasn’t bravado or just pretending to be confidence. It was real confidence, in myself and my ability to be something other than a burden, or someone to be protected. I stood a little taller when we left Demon Head Guns, and when we stepped inside the restaurant.
Dinner with Drew had helped too, the same way it always did.
Sitting across from him, laughing with him as our knees touched under the table like giddy teenagers, felt normal.
It was still a total trip to be here like this with Drew, even more so because we laughed and we ate as if the walls weren’t closing in around us.
“We should’ve gotten a burger to go,” I mused as we crossed the lot.
He took my hand in his, our palms pressed together. “We’re not too far to turn back.”
I burst out laughing. “No, I’m okay. But thanks.”
He shrugged, flashing that smile that reminded me so much of the boy he used to be. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Our gazes locked for so long that I almost missed the change in the air.
Drew’s gaze sharpened and his hand released mine. “Get behind me,” he ordered in a low voice.
Three men stepped out from between two parked cars, blocking our path. They moved with undeniable purpose, too coordinated to be random, and too confident to be drunk assholes looking for trouble.
My stomach dropped.
One of them smiled and it wasn’t friendly, either. It was assessing. “Evening,” he drawled. “We’ve been looking all over for you, Macy.”
I froze. The world around me narrowed to the tiniest fucking pinpoint as fear took hold of me. Their next words hit my ears low and muffled, like someone had stuffed cotton in them.
Drew shifted instantly and took a step forward, standing between me and danger.
Again.
“Keep walking,” Drew demanded in a voice so calm, it was scary. “You’re in the wrong fucking lot.”
The man laughed. “Nah. Pretty sure we’re exactly where we need to be.” His gaze slid over Drew’s vest. “Steel Demons, huh? Boss won’t like that.”
Another one cracked his knuckles. “You should’ve stayed hidden, sweetheart.”
My heart slammed against my ribs, and my fucking feet wouldn’t move. My mouth wouldn’t work.
The first punch came fast. The man closest to Drew swung first, wild and clumsy but there was weight behind it. Drew ducked it easily and came back with a punch that knocked that asshole on his knees.
“Stay down,” Drew snarled, kicking him twice in the stomach. “If you know what’s good for you, stay the fuck down.”
I watched it all with wide eyes, fear pulsing through my veins and unable to move. It was just like when I was young and I was too frozen to help myself. I could only watch as the bad shit unfolded in front of me.
The man stayed down but the other two rushed Drew at the same time, hitting him from both sides.
“Drew!” The sound of his name tore out of me, scraping my throat until it hit the air.
They circled him, confident now. I realized with sick clarity that they weren’t afraid because I wasn’t doing shit. I stood there, useless, exactly the way I always did.
One lunged again and Drew pivoted hard, driving his forehead into the guy’s face. The crack of bone made my stomach flip. The man reeled backward, clutching his nose and swearing, stumbling into the side of a parked car before sliding down to the pavement.
For a split second, it was one-on-one.
The third man didn’t hesitate. He slammed into Drew from the side, and they went down hard.
“Drew,” I whispered so softly that nobody else heard me.
But that horror and fear that pooled like acid in my belly morphed into something else, something dark and hot.
The man on the ground wasn’t getting back up.
The other one had Drew pinned, raining blows down while Drew tried to shield his head.
Rage.
It was hot and burning. It was goddamn blinding.
How dare they touch him! My Drew!
How fucking dare they put their hands on him like that!
The anger rose up and with each subsequent blow that landed, the anger and the rage built and built.
It was a fiery tornado inside of me over all the hits I’d taken in my life and never hit back.
Never fought back. I took it. Every single fucking time, I took it.
But this was different. This was Drew and I couldn’t fail him, not now when he needed me. Not after he spent the entire day giving me everything I needed to protect myself.
I couldn’t fail him.
Not again.
I didn’t owe him.
I wanted to protect him.
He needed me to do something.
Before I could think, before I could freeze again, I reached inside my pocket and pulled out the switchblade Raven had pressed into my hand days ago. “A girl’s gotta be able to protect herself,” she’d said as she pressed the shimmery red metal into my palm.
I threw myself forward and wrapped my legs around the man with his back to me, squeezing as hard as I could to make sure I wouldn’t fall. He shouted, staggering all over the place as he tried to shake me off.
“No!” I screamed, over and over, each time it was punctuated by plunging the blade into the side of his face and neck. It didn’t matter to me where the blade stuck, as long as it did. Cheek. Jaw. Neck. I didn’t think and I didn’t hesitate, I just kept moving.
The man dropped to his knees and I went down with him, still stabbing him.
Still screaming until my throat was raw.
Years of rage poured out of me, the helplessness, the fear, the nights I’d stayed silent while pain was done to me at my parents’ house.
In foster care. Every man I’d ever attempted to give my heart to.
Inside that fucking room with Diego.
It all rushed out of me with his blood. Thick and red and oozing.
“Macy, baby.” Drew’s voice cut through it, soft but urgent. “Come on. Stop it.”
I heard him, but I couldn’t stop.
“Macy,” he said louder. “He’s gone, sweetheart. Dead.”
That did it.
I froze and then I looked down.
What had been a face, was now barely recognizable, just a pile of bloody flesh with eyeballs staring back at me. Not staring because they were lifeless, but still. “Oh shit.” My body began trembling.
Drew’s arms wrapped around me, strong and sure as he lifted me away from the body. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let’s get out of here.”
I nodded numbly as he guided me to the bike, hands shaking as he slid the helmet onto my head. I climbed on behind him, clinging tight.
Inside that helmet, I broke. I cried hard, ugly sobs that wracked my body but after a few miles I realized I wasn’t crying for that man, but for the years it had taken me to—finally—fight back.
I should have done that shit sooner.
I clicked the button on the side to activate the headset. “I’m sorry, Drew.”
“Don’t be,” he shot back right away. “Asshole deserved it.”
“No,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m sorry you got hurt while I just stood there doing nothing. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t. I was frozen. Like always.”
There was a long silence between us before I heard his gruff words. “It’s all right,” he said. “You came through when I needed you. And I wasn’t all that hurt, those guys hit like grannies.”
A wet laugh escaped me. “Still. I’m sorry.”
***
When we pulled into the clubhouse lot, he shut off the engine and waited for me to get off the bike. He removed my helmet and forced my gaze to meet his. “You’re fucking amazing, babe,” he said softly. “Thank you for helping me.”
I managed a small smile at those words. “I like helping you, Drew.”
He kissed me and it was soft and wet and heart melting. I leaned into his touch and savored his taste, moaning as he deepened the kiss. “Fuck,” he groaned when our lips separated. “Come on, let’s get that fucker’s blood off you.”
I smiled and took his hand, letting him guide me inside where, for the first time, I didn’t feel helpless.
I felt powerful.
Dangerous.
I felt useful.