Chapter 14 Bree
Aday later, I sat on the sofa in the living room of the safehouse, staring at Raven. We left The Roost in the middle of the night, and I texted my sister once we were already on our way. I didn’t need her talking me out of it.
This was my way of protecting her, and I knew Crow would watch over her. It made it much harder to hunt us down if we both weren’t staying at the clubhouse.
Raven stood in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. “I know what you need.”
Shit. I had no idea what he was going to say. “Oh, what’s that?”
“Music.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Real music. None of that modern shit that raps or talks through the songs instead of singing.”
Ok-ay. Not what I thought he’d say. “What’s real music?”
“C’mere. Close your eyes and listen.”
I stood from the couch, walking in front of him as he asked.
“Don’t focus on anything but the music. Feel it. Let it roll through your body, and if you want, if it makes you feel something, do what feels natural.”
“This sounds suspiciously like a wacky therapy session.”
His head tilted back, and he laughed. One of those full-bodied, deeply seductive male sounds that turned me into mush. “Do it anyway. If you hate it, I won’t ever ask again.”
Narrowing my eyes, I doubted that. Still, Raven had never lied or failed me before now. “Okay.”
“Close your eyes,” he repeated.
“Fine.” I obeyed, focusing on the breath coming in and slowly leaving my lungs, repeating several more times.
Rock music slowly began filtering through the speakers, a steady drum beat and an electric guitar . . . and then a male voice.
He spoke about being in different worlds. Hearts that had been broken. Sleepless nights and reaching out for the one person you couldn’t stop dreaming about.
My heart hammered at the beautiful, haunting lyrics and the crooning tenor voice. It touched a place deep inside me that I thought could never be reached again.
I thought love would never find me after all I went through. But as the man belted out lyrics about chains being broken and how love would always find a way, I felt the constriction on my lungs begin to ease.
I gasped, hardly noticing the tears that leaked from my eyes as I began to sway to the music. When he described the pain and confusion, promises that were shattered, and never truly walking alone, I broke down in sobs but never stopped dancing.
My body moved to the music, caught up in the beat as I spun and moved my hips, finding something to soothe the aching places inside. Maybe it was silly, but I felt those lyrics in my heart and soul. Breaking chains.
When the song ended, my eyes slowly opened, taking in the room, the tattooed biker and his hypnotic gaze, and the pounding thrum of my heart. My chest rose and fell as I stared into blue eyes that understood I needed to feel again.
“Again,” I whispered.
He nodded, replaying the song.
This next time, I couldn’t stop my body from reacting to the instruments and their melody. I never took dance classes and wondered if this is what dancers felt like, when every muscle responded to the notes, and your body reacted with its own set of independent movements.
When it ended a second time, I rushed to Raven, who seemed amused, in a playful way, by my reaction. “Who was that?”
He seemed a little surprised that I didn’t know. “Journey. The lead singer is Steve Perry, one of the best male vocalists ever born.”
“What’s the name of the song?”
“Separate Ways, Worlds Apart.”
“Wow,” I whispered, tucking my hands in close to my heart. “He must have loved that woman so much.”
“I believe so. He wrote the song with another band member when he was on the road and going through a painful divorce. Too much temptation with life and fame.”
“That’s sad.”
“It is,” he agreed. “You’ve never listened to Journey before?”
I shook my head. “No. Is that bad?”
“Not at all. I get the pleasure of introducing you to one of the most influential and talented artists in his genre.” He flashed a lopsided grin, his dimple appearing in his cheek.
“Play another Journey song for me.”
Excitement brightened his blue eyes. “This next one is fun. It’s called Don’t Stop Believin’.”
Nodding, I closed my eyes again, waiting for the music to start.
The song began differently this time, but no less hypnotic, pulling me in as I smiled at the lyrics.
A small-town girl and city boy finding love in a lonely world.
How poetic. And the train they met on, fate bringing them together. A collision meant to be.
Like me and Raven.
The music picked up tempo, swirling in the air as I felt swept up in the current.
Lyrics about strangers as they gathered on the city streets. Of their shadows, searching for emotion and belonging. I could relate on so many levels.
Dancing. I was dancing...so unencumbered. My body moved, finding a few stolen moments of freedom. I spun in circles, lifted my arms, and let the music pulse through me.
Don’t stop believing.
Hold onto everything. Feel it.
And I did. I embraced it, hugged it, and allowed my soul to let a little bit of light and happiness in.
The result was profound.
I laughed. I cried. I laughed and cried at the same time, belting out the chorus of Don’t Stop Believin’. When the song ended, I threw my arms around Raven’s waist, embracing the unhindered emotion that flowed through my chest.
His arms wrapped around me, and we swayed as another song began to play. The slower music drifted through our bodies. He intertwined our fingers with one hand, and the other gripped my waist.
I lifted my head, surprised he wanted to dance with me.
He arched a brow, asking for permission.
Nodding, I didn’t verbally reply, not wanting to break the spell between us. He began to lead me around the room, pausing to spin me out and back in, grinning when I laughed.
The song kept playing.
Being apart from the one you craved. Moving on. Learning to let go and fall in love again even when the risk felt all-consuming. Oh, but later, when the risk became the reward, indulging in the joy of rediscovering the full gamut of love and pleasure.
Oh, wow. Those lyrics.
The promise. To always stay by the side of the one you loved. To belong to them as completely as they belonged to you. Faithfully and forever giving your heart.
Just wow.
Who knew a silver-bearded, muscled, tattooed biker twice my age could be so romantic?
My heart could hardly contain all the emotion lingering within the withered, half-dead chambers, the whisperings and echoes of a love I’d never known but secretly desired since I was a young girl of sixteen, staring into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
“That was called Faithfully. I’ve got a playlist of my favorites. You want to keep listening?”
“Yes,” I replied without hesitation, perhaps too eager.
My answer pleased him. I swear I saw a twinkle of sapphires gleaming in his eyes.
After that, I stopped paying attention, letting the music guide us. We circled the room as Raven occasionally sang lyrics, as lost in the moment as I had become.
It took at least half a minute for me to realize we’d stopped. His hand pressed against my lower back, tucking me in closer to his body. His head dipped, bringing our faces closer together.
For some reason, the movie Dirty Dancing flashed through my mind, specifically the scene where Baby visits Johnny in his room, and they dance together, leading to a night of awakening for them both, blossoming a love that would defy social class and income division.
“How you feeling, babygirl?”
The truth? What did I have to lose?
“Like my heart is learning to beat again.”
BEAUTIFUL. FREE. HAPPY.
Those were the words that stuck out in my mind, watching this gorgeous creature spin around the room, her entire heart visible on the pretty face men found alluring and wanted to exploit for their gratification, pushing the darkness away.
When I held her in my arms, every memory of Sarah faded. I didn’t see a replacement for someone I lost. And I didn’t see a broken girl.
I stared into the emerald gaze of a young woman with the courage to fight for her recovery—a survivor.
I saw an intelligent, caring woman whose beauty was more than skin deep.
Everything I learned about her only increased my curiosity and desire to be in her presence.
She experienced the world so differently than I did.
Brianna intrigued me for more reasons than my cock, and for an old biker like me, that was serious.
Somewhere along this train of thought, I’d stopped moving, clutching her body against mine as desire and attraction warred with logic and the need for patience.
I’d never felt anything like I did for this woman.
An overwhelming urge to maim and kill those who harmed her and stole her peace.
To make any man who ruined her smile pay with hours of suffering.
My head lowered as I wondered what her lips would taste like, how they would feel when I pressed my mouth to hers. Soft and sweet? Exotic and intoxicating?
Would she moan? Kiss me back? Or was I a fool to misread the attraction she couldn’t hide?
Take this slow. She needs more than one night.
“How you feel, babygirl?”
“Like my heart is learning to beat again.”
My breath stuttered, and I honestly couldn’t say how many beats my heart skipped, but it was at least one.
You’re too old for her. She’ll never want a relationship with a biker. You’ll just remind her of bad memories.
All the reasons we were a bad idea floated around in my head.
“So, I have a serious question.”
Fuck. She was talking, and I let my thoughts wander again. “Okay. Go for it.”
“You’re a biker,” she began.
“That’s not a question, sugar. That’s a fact.”
She snorted. “Aren’t you supposed to listen to hard rock and metal and thrash your head?”
“I don’t have any hair,” I deadpanned. “For the thrashing.”
She stared at me, her jaw popping open a little like she couldn’t make sense of this conversation. Maybe she was embarrassed since her cheeks turned a little pink. Looked fucking cute, and I couldn’t help a chuckle. This was too easy.
“You’ve got to learn to laugh at yourself, babygirl. It’s one of the secrets to lifelong happiness.”
Her lips turned upward. “You’re teasing me.”
“A little,” I admitted, “but it’s sexy as fuck that you can handle it.”
Why. The. Fuck. Did I just say that?
No goddamn filter at all. When I was around Bree, sometimes I lost complete track of what I was thinkin’, and my mind drifted, making me act like a total ass.
“You’re so bad,” she laughed.
Good. I earned a laugh.
“Maybe I’m just too old to know better,” I joked.
“Or just the opposite.”
“Hell, sugar, you got me figured out fast.”
She smiled, a genuine smile that transformed her features from pretty to beautiful, stunning me into silence. That wasn’t an easy feat and didn’t happen often. I had to swallow down the lump in my throat and force myself to respond before I spooked her because I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth.
I was so fucked.
Silence spun out between us, and I cleared my throat, changing the subject to something I could handle. “You hungry?” My voice sounded rough and scratchy, and I almost tripped over the words. What the fuck?
“Sure, Raven.”
Raven. My road name. I’d always loved it.
Today, I sort of hated it. I wanted to hear Bree call me by my real name—the one my mama loved, surprising everyone in the family when she chose it.
When the moment felt right, I’d ask her to say it.
“I’ve got a local lady I hired to do the cleaning once a week and stock this place up with groceries and necessities. Gave her a text before we arrived. The fridge and cabinets are stocked. We could have anything you want.”
She gave me a timid smile. “Breakfast?”
“Pancakes? Sausage or bacon? Eggs?”
A sweet smile lit up her face. She looked almost . . . happy. Damn. That landed right in my chest, all the feels. I could get used to seeing her like this.
That was the precise moment I realized Bree’s happiness meant as much as my own.
That I couldn’t fathom the idea of not being around her every single fucking day.
I wanted to share every part of my life with her, at least the parts I could.
MC life would never be shit she needed to know or worry about, especially after all she’d suffered.
“All of it.”
“You got it, babygirl.”
When I said her nickname, it was the first time I noticed how it rolled off my tongue like a caress.
Fucked. That’s what I was, in every way possible.
Somehow, I’d fallen hard for this fragile beauty, and it didn’t stop there. I kept falling, digging in deeper, building a fucking mote around us that would protect her from the outside world. I wanted to be her knight in shining armor. The kind of man she’d be proud to have by her side.
I wanted to be her old man. The guy she fucked, went through life with, and grew old next to because I wasn’t getting any younger. The age difference would always be there. I could use it as a crutch or stop worrying about it. If it wasn’t an issue for her, then it wouldn’t be for me.
That only left one barrier to us moving to the next level, and it was up to Brianna if and when that veil between us would be ripped away. Did I want her? Hell yeah. Would I ever force the issue or make her uncomfortable? Never.
But I sure hoped she found a way to fight and beat those demons holding her down for good because my heart was invested, and there was no going back now.