Chapter Five
Bella
I can’t even begin to explain what made me reach out to Clay last night. I was stood on the bridge for the second time in recent weeks, contemplating my life.
I’d felt so inferior yesterday when Imogen arrived at my workplace with my own children.
No one at work knows about my current situation, and I’m sure she secretly knew that I wouldn’t divulge my personal life to everyone.
Knowing how conniving the bitch could be, I knew she was trying to provoke a reaction from me so that she could run back to Liam and say I was harassing her.
Liam had chosen to believe everything she had told him, even before I’d met the bitch.
As I stood there watching the cars pass below me, I’d remembered what Lizzy had said to me, I needed to find a new normal.
I couldn’t let Imogen and Liam rule my life any longer, they may have my children, but I had to fight to live.
I needed to work at getting my kids back, showing them that I would stop at nothing to see them again.
Clay was the first person in months to reach me when I was at my lowest point, so I knew deep down that he would understand.
That he wouldn’t judge me. Don’t ask me how I knew.
I have no idea and let’s face it, when it comes to men, I’m clearly not the best judge of character.
However, that night, he dragged my tired body over the side of the bridge I knew.
I knew that he was the most genuine soul I had ever met in my life, including my family.
He didn’t have to stop and save me, and he certainly didn’t have to chase me down to make sure I was okay.
I look at myself in the mirror, and it seems like the first time in forever I’ve truly looked. Of course, I’ve got up most mornings and pasted my make-up on, but today I see myself.
I straighten my shoulders. “I’ve got this,” I say to my reflection. “Today is going to be a new day, a fresh start.”
There’s a small knock at my door. He’s on time for our coffee date and it makes me smile. I take a quick glance around my room, realising how much of a pigsty it is. Felicity was right—I really did need to get my shit together.
There was no way I could invite Clay in here.
“One minute,” I shout, grabbing my handbag and keys off the kitchen counter.
I slip through the narrowest gap in the door, hoping to hide the chaos behind it, and find Clay leaning against the wall opposite.
One boot braced behind him, phone in hand, he glances up and smiles, his sharp jawline catching the light.
As he pushes off the wall, the movement is effortless, practiced.
He looks like he’s stepped straight out of one of those glossy biker magazines.
“What’s my beauty hiding?” he jokes as I lock the door quickly.
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Now, that would be telling. You don’t get to see my bed on the first date.” I wink, and he grins from ear to ear.
“Oh, so this is a date?”
“Er . . . I . . . erm,” I stutter suddenly, losing all confidence.
He grabs my hand, and I feel an automatic connection. “Belle, I’m joking. Relax.” I let out a nervous laugh. Fuck, Bella, what the hell are you doing?
He lifts me by the waist, his large hands delicately grabbing my hips, placing me on the pillion. The same sensation runs through my core as it did moments ago from him simply holding my hand. I let out a shriek, and his grin widens.
“Well, at least I know where your soft spot is,” he laughs, that playfulness in his eyes automatically putting me at ease. He places a helmet over my head, knocking down the visor before placing his own on.
“Safety first,” he says, it makes me jump as I hear him louder through the helmet. He lets out a gravelly laugh at my startle as he straddles the bike, kicking down the stand and pulling my hands around his waist.
“Hold tight.”
The engine roars to life, a sudden bubble of excitement courses through my veins, replacing any anxiety I had. The rumble of the engine vibrates through me, adding to the anticipation. I was so overwhelmed the other week that I didn’t truly get to enjoy the ride.
He weaves in and out of the traffic, and I close my eyes, submerging myself completely.
I never understood the fascination with motorbikes.
I was always told of the dangers of them, but all of a sudden, I understood.
I understood the need for speed, and it wasn’t just about going fast, shit, that was more than exhilarating, it was about the whole experience.
Feeling the frame beneath you, knowing that one wrong move could be the end of everything, and yet here I was on the back of a motorbike with a man I barely even knew, yet I felt I could trust with everything.
I felt the throb of the engine beneath my legs, the movement of Clay’s stomach with every turn and pull of the throttle.
I open my eyes and watch as the world zooms by around me, fully immersed and starkly aware of every centimetre of my journey. This is peace.
Clay pulls up outside a coffee shop and turns off the engine.
I unwrap my arms from around him, almost instantly feeling the loss of connection.
I lean back, holding on to the bars behind the pillion as he climbs off his bike and removes his helmet, observing me tentatively as he helps me remove mine.
I feel myself grinning as I take a deep breath.
“Alright?” he asks, leaning in and brushing the hair that’s now stuck to my face.
“Fuck yes,” I say, a little more loudly than I’d anticipated, the thrum of the engine making me deaf to my own volume. I rub my face, embarrassed by my little display of excitement. He raises an eyebrow at me, and that gorgeous smirk is back.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, feeling my cheeks redden.
“Never apologise. I love a woman who has a mouth to match my own.” He winks, making me blush further.
My mother hated my foul language. It always resulted in her washing my mouth out with soap.
“I see why you like it,” I say quickly, changing the subject as I nod to the bike.
“She’s kept me sane on many occasions.”
He runs his hands over the chrome, and he looks lost in thought for a few moments before looking back up to me.
“Anyway, I thought you’d want to try out a different coffee place, somewhere a little less—”
“Local,” I interrupt.
“Yeah. I didn’t want to risk you running into her, this was a coffee ‘date’.” He uses air quotes, giving me a wink. “I wanted you to be able to relax, away from your drama for a while.”
I nod, words failing me that he’d actually think about that and consider my feelings. No one has ever put me first. It almost feels alien to me.
He takes my hand, leading me into this quaint little coffee shop. It’s not modern like the ones nearer home that I’m used to, but old fashioned with tablecloths and sugar cubes.
“I’ll grab a table,” I say, making my way over to a little reading corner.
There’s a fire crackling away nearby, giving off a cosy vibe.
I sit down in the plush leather seats as I look over the book collection.
I slide out one of the MC romance novels—Grizz by Nicola Jane—and smile to myself.
I flip it over, taking a look at the blurb as Clay makes his way over to me.
“I got you a flat white. That okay?” He places the coffee on the table, lowering into the seat opposite me.
“Sure.” I bring the coffee to my lips and blow on it gently.
“What’s that?” He nods to the book in my hand. I feel my cheeks flush again and rush to pop it back on the shelf.
“Oh, nothing. I was just taking a look,” I rush out, wrapping my hands around the mug. “So, tell me a little about my knight in leathers then.”
“Not much to tell.”
“Well, you have to give me something. You seem to know a lot about my disastrous life.” I take a sip of my coffee, savouring the taste.
“My name’s Clay,” he laughs, sarcastically. I roll my eyes. “No, seriously, what do you want to know?”
“How long have you been part of The Broken Iron Demons MC?”
“A couple years. I joined after I left the Marines.” That definitely explains the muscular physique.
“How come you left the Marines?” I ask and automatically kick myself when his expression changes to one of turmoil. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” I blurt out.
He takes a sip of his coffee, leaning back into the chair. “It’s a long story, but we saw a lot of shit out there. It was time to leave before I lost myself.” He runs his hands through his jet-black hair.
“I get that.” I stare into my coffee, realising I know exactly how it feels to lose yourself.
“You’ll get there,” he says, reaching over the table and placing his hand over mine. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“You realise how stalkerish that makes you sound, right?” I laugh nervously.
He holds his hands up. “I want to help. My life did a complete three-sixty when I left the Marines, and without my brothers, I don’t know where I’d be today.”
“Probably not saving my arse from being pothole filler.” I try to make light of the situation, but he suddenly looks serious.
“Belle, listen, I don’t ever want you to joke about that again. And I never want you to feel your life is useless or not worth living, because it is. It doesn’t matter how dark the world might be, you have to search for those stars to light your path.”
“Like you,” I whisper, more to myself than him.
“Huh?”
“You were there then, and here you are now. You’re one of those stars, holding the light for me.” I swallow hard, not trusting myself to say anything else. I don’t want tears today. Today is about taking back my power bit by bit.
Clay