Polly
After leaving Legends MC, my horrible car had died right in my aunt’s driveway, and I’d had to manually push it into her spacious garage.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? I was a perimenopausal mom mooching off my aunt.
But there had been no question of staying with the Club. I had been deluding myself all along that Abraham was maybe possibly developing feelings for me.
He wasn’t.
And the thought of all the Christmas trees and decorations depressed me.
Abraham probably had thrown them directly in the dumpster and might even have another freeuse club bunny already.
The thought of him pleasuring someone else just made me depressed.
Aunt Bonnie was philosophical.
When I told her I was sorry I wasn’t going to be able to facilitate her relationship with Fizz anymore, because he neither had or was barely aware of the concept of cellphones, and I was never going anywhere near the Legends MC clubhouse again, she shrugged.
“Probably for the best, my dear. At my age it could be dangerous trying to relive the passions of my youth.”
When I asked her what that meant, because after all she was in amazing shape and only 67, she changed the subject.
“Fizz said something about you reminding him of someone he used to know? What did he mean by that?”
She only shrugged. “Probably just a mistake. Maybe a trick of the light.”
Well, there was a lot I didn’t know about my aunt but she would have to tell me in her own time.
We had a quiet Christmas together. Laurie went with his French immersion program to Paris over the holiday, but would spend all of Spring Break here. He’d FaceTimed frequently, and I’d avoided every question about how the Club was doing.
I’d have to tell him sometime, but god, I didn’t want to.
Even though I tried very hard not to think about Abraham, I couldn’t help it.
Did he care I was gone?
Had he already gotten a new woman?
I cried more than I wanted to, but one January day I woke up determined to forget all about him, even though I still felt the gray fog of depression.
I applied to 3-4 jobs online and bought a few new outfits for myself, noticing that, instead of stopping my wages, Abraham had doubled them. Or was that tripled? Quadrupled?
Irritating man.
While I was waiting to hear back from the jobs, I decided to go to the library and check out some books to improve myself. Men were assholes, books were better.
I debated between Discovering The Goddess Within or Erotic Crocheting For Beginners in the quiet hum of the library.
This was going to be the new me. Self-improvement, start lifting weights, maybe become a powerful corporate woman.
The kind of powerful corporate woman who could buy all Abraham’s land and grind his face under my heel.
Wait, what was that noise?
I was like a Pavlov’s dog with motorcycles now, but I had to stop getting all hot and bothered just because I heard a damn engine!
Just then a bike streaked by and I instantly felt myself go weak in the knees.
Because that was absolutely Abraham O’Sullivan, and it couldn’t be anybody else.
Massive size, dark beard, the harsh cold lines of his face.
What was he even doing in this part of town? This was hardly 1%er core territory, was it?
Maybe it was a coincidence. It had to be, right?
But no, Abraham was pulling over, looking around.
Like he knew I was here.
I put my books down in a rush at the front desk.
“I’ll come back for these,” I gasped.
Damn, he couldn’t be coming inside, could he?
Why would he do that?
I edged toward the back exit just as I saw him enter by the front.
The tattoos on his powerful arms edged out from under his T-shirt, but he wasn’t even wearing his cut.
For a moment I had to clutch the shelf, because he looked visibly different.
It had only been a few weeks, but he looked shockingly gaunt. Although he was still massively broad-shouldered and powerful, there were dark circles under his eyes and he had lost so much weight in his face that his cheekbones above the beard looked sunken in.
He bent down to talk to the librarian at the front desk, and I had a sudden, horrifying thought.
Was he looking for me?
I turned and got the hell out of there.
What would I even say to him?
What did you say to a man you’d poured so much love into but he thought of you as a “wet hole”?
I began to walk home, wishing I had a hat to hide my hair under, or at least some back way or maybe a hedge I could crawl under.
“Polly!” I heard a voice call from behind me. “Pollyanna!”
The voice tingled down my spine, but I ignored him, clenching my fists tighter and trying to walk faster.
“Polly, wait!”
I veered off into the bushes.
“Go away!”
His engine revved behind me, and with one big arm, Abraham swept me onto the front of his motorcycle between his thighs.
Instinctively, I grabbed for his other arm to hold on and he popped a helmet over my head.
‘’What do you think you’re doing?” I sputtered.
“Tell me to stop if you really want,” Abraham growled in my ear as he spun the hog around and gravel spattered under the tires.
“You can’t even hear me!” I tried to shriek, but my curly hair was all stuffed in my mouth.
And that was probably what he was expecting, I seethed, as we blazed through the dark streets heading back to Legends Clubhouse.
I tried not to touch him, but it was impossible when I was basically in his lap.
When we got back to Legends, Abraham pulled off my helmet, his eyes boring into mine, deep dark circles under them.
“Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“I thought you said you were mostly law-abiding! You basically kidnapped me,” I said sourly.
“I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “You can take me back now.”
Up close, the change in him was even more pronounced. The lines in his face seemed deeper, his weight loss more pronounced. But it was none of my business. It was no longer my ministry to give him homemade bone broth.
His hollow eyes were still searching my face. Like he was looking for something that wasn’t there anymore.
“I’m not taking you back.”
“Why did you even kidnap me in the first place?”
“How did you think I fucking felt not knowing where you were? I didn’t know if something had happened to you. Why the hell would you ever leave without letting me know you’re safe?”
“Why would you care if a wet hole is safe or not?” I shot back. “Since apparently that’s all you care about.”
Abraham’s face seemed to crater in on itself.
“Polly, I didn’t mean that. Please let me make it right.”
“Why should I?”
“Please, Polly. Please.”
I said nothing.
He looked like hell.
“In fact, I have some feelings to tell you.”
I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. “You have some feelings to share, Bonemangler? Let’s hear them.”