Chapter Thirteen
Bella
I sit outside the club with Rochelle and Red.
I find comfort in their company, and they keep my mind off Clay and everything else going on in my life.
I haven’t spoken to him for a couple of days.
I mean, he’s tried more than once, but the girls were right, I needed time to figure things out in my own head without him clouding my judgement.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t found it impossible when he’s been near, although he’s spent a lot of time on his bike.
Red explained that’s how Clay deals with things. He may have his brothers, but a lot of his time thinking is spent out.
Apparently, before he joined the MC, he was a lone rider. He still spends a lot of time on the road alone when something’s bothering him. Speaking to the ladies has helped me understand a lot about the ways of the club, and I’ve learned more about Clay from them than he has divulged himself.
The longer I spend here, the more I realise how much I like it.
It’s the first time in forever that I’ve felt like I belong.
Growing up, I felt out of place in my own home, so sitting here on a sunny afternoon with people I’ve come to know as friends, shows me what life should be about.
I thought I was happy with Liam, but little did I know back then, it was just comfort.
He showed me love and affection, but it always came at a cost. I grew up knowing I wasn’t loved, so the minute he showed me the smallest ounce of affection, I thought that was what true love was.
What I hadn’t realised was that he was as toxic as my mother—he was just better at hiding the fact.
Red laughs at something Rochelle says, and it brings my attention back to the here and now.
“You okay there, Bella?” Rochelle asks with a look of concern etched across her features.
“Mmhmm.” I smile, looking out across the courtyard. “Was just thinking.”
“About?” Red interjects.
“Everything, really.” She looks concerned, and I laugh. “I’m okay. I’m not going to fall apart on you again.”
There’s a low rumble of a motorbike in the distance, and I look up to see Clay pulling up.
“Well, maybe I spoke too soon,” I grumble as they follow my line of sight.
Rochelle leans forward. “Don’t give in. Remember what we said. You start giving in now, he’ll think he runs the show,” she whispers before leaning back into her chair.
I watch as he climbs off his bike, his kutte clinging to him.
He strides the steps, and before I know it, he’s stood beside me.
The smell of his cologne fills my senses, and I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
A sense of ease washes over me but Rochelle’s words ring through my mind. He leans in closer. Stay strong, Bella.
“Can we talk?” he murmurs.
“No—” Rochelle replies before I can respond. I wink in her direction, letting her know I’ve got this. I have to start somewhere.
I turn to face him, noticing he looks tired, like he hasn’t slept for days. His hair is more dishevelled than usual, and his stubble shows he hasn’t shaved recently. My heart tugs at the sight of him, but Rochelle is right.
“Clay,” I clear my throat, “I’m not ready to talk to you yet. You broke my trust, and that may seem trivial to most, but to me, that’s important.” He nods and opens his mouth to protest, but I place my hand up to stop him.
“Let me finish. My life has been chaotic since I can remember. Trust is the one thing over everything I want, and right now, you can’t give that to me. I need time.”
His head drops, and it tugs at my heart. I sigh, feeling every emotion like a train hitting me. He sighs heavily and heads inside the clubhouse. I take a shaky breath, picking up my bottle of beer and taking a long swig.
“You did good,” Red says reassuringly.
“So, why do I feel like a complete bitch?” I ask, taking another long swig of the bottle.
"No one ever said being open and truthful is easy,” Rochelle adds, smiling at me. “See this as setting the foundations for your entire relationship.”
“He’ll get over it.” Red laughs before taking a swig of her own beer.
The doors swings open, and Drifter strides out. He leans down, giving Rochelle a tender kiss on the head as he sits on the arm of the chair beside her. She looks up at him longingly, complete admiration in her eyes.
“I’ve spoken to Gears. Misty will be here to help get you access to your kids.”
Rochelle claps her hands together gleefully.
“And who’s Misty?” I ask, confused.
“Gears’ sister. She’s a solicitor, and she’ll know how to tackle this,” Drifter replies, draping his arm round Rochelle.
“Thanks, baby,” Rochelle says, tilting her head to kiss him.
He smiles down at her. “As much as I love you, Hell, this was for Clay.” She pouts, and he grabs her hair, pulling her head back and taking her lip between his teeth. She pulls away breathless.
“Of course, it fucking was.”
“He’s my VP, and she’s his ol’ lady.” He winks and gets up to leave.
I down the rest of my beer, suddenly riddled with anxiety.
“It’ll be okay,” Red vows, but all I can do is nod.
I make my way up to Clay’s bedroom, swaying side to side from the effects of the alcohol. I shouldn’t have spent the day drinking with the girls. I was never going to be able to keep up with them.
I stagger along the corridor, feeling along the wall. I open the door, but the space feels cold and lonely. It really isn’t the same without him.
I fumble around for the light switch. I’m sure it was here. I chuckle to myself. If only Liam could see me now, he’d be fuming.
“Well, fuck you, Liam,” I shout into the darkness, sticking my finger into the empty space.
“Yeah, you prick, look at me now.” Then I trip on something and land on my arse, laughing as I lie back on the carpet.
The light comes on, and I immediately cover my face, the brightness like pokers to my eyes.
“I’m melting,” I screech in a fit of laughter.
Clay kneels beside me before placing my arm around his shoulder and lifting me off the floor.
“Hey,” I shout, “I’m still angry with you.”
“Let’s just get you into bed. You can be angry with me again tomorrow.”
He pulls back the duvet and places me in the bed.
“Hmm, well, as long as you know you’re not taking advantage of my drunken slumber,” I slur.
He removes my shoes one at a time, placing them on the chair in the corner of the room.
“I can’t leave my ol’ lady asleep on the floor now, can I?” he asks, pulling the duvet over me.
“Don’t be kind to me. I’ve been a bitch to you,” I say, closing my eyes.
“You could never be a bitch to me,” he whispers, brushing my hair away from my face. “Now, get some rest. I love you.” He kisses me on my head tenderly before turning off the light and leaving. His words ring out as I drift off into a drunken sleep.
Clay
I’ve never seen Belle in a state like that before.
She looked so carefree dancing with Red and Rochelle, I’d watched as she grinded her hips like she had no worries in the world.
I initially thought it would be the perfect opportunity to speak with her, so I followed her upstairs.
I’m glad I did, because I heard her fall over.
Red’s words played on repeat in my head—I can’t be like Liam.
I can’t take advantage of her drunken state to get what I need in that moment.
She was shouting to him in the dark, and it made me realise that she needs to talk to me on her own terms. I can’t be selfish, but I also can’t let the woman I’ve come to love sleep on the bedroom floor.
I knock gently on the bedroom door. It’s lunchtime, and she hasn’t risen yet, and I can’t deny I’m a little worried. The door creaks open as I peer around the small opening.
“Belle,” I call out.
“Go away,” she groans, throwing a cushion towards the door. It lands short of her target, me.
“I’ve brought you coffee,” I offer in the hope she’ll accept my gesture as a peace offering.
“Leave the coffee and go,” she snaps, pulling the duvet up over her head. I push the door open fully. Making my way over to the bed, I place the cup on the nightstand and take a seat on the edge.
“I said go,” she grunts, turning her back to me, her head still firmly hidden.
Well, at least she’s talking to me. I’d say that is an improvement.
I take two paracetamols out of my pocket and leave them next to her coffee.
I rest my hand on the duvet over her back, and she pulls away as if my touch burns her.
“I’m downstairs if you need me.” I sigh, getting up and leaving. Closing the door, I stand outside like some crazed stalker, struggling with that inner voice telling me to just tell her how this shit is, and that she’s mine whether she likes it or not.
I hear her shuffling and then moan in satisfaction as she takes that first sip of coffee like she always does, I rest my head against the door. Fuck.
“I can still hear you,” she shouts through the closed door.
I’ve given her a couple hours, but she still hasn’t appeared. And she hasn’t eaten. Eventually, I cave and take her a sandwich. This time, I don’t bother knocking. I just walk in and set the tray on the bed beside her.
She sits up slowly, watching me with wary eyes, as if she’s weighing every possible reaction before she makes a move. Her stomach betrays her with a loud rumble, the smell of bacon curling through the room and closing the distance between us better than words ever could.
“I thought you might be hungry,” I mutter, taking the plate off the tray and handing it to her. She takes it.
“You need to stay hydrated too,” I add, passing her a bottle of water.
She shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she says, eyeing the sandwich. “Thank you.” She takes a bite and groans in satisfaction, covering her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.”
“Make sure you drink that water.” I nod towards the bottle.
“Clay, I’m not a child. I’ve had a hangover before,” she mutters, rolling her eyes as she takes another bite.
A drip of ketchup slides down her chin, and without thinking, I grab a napkin and wipe it away.
She jolts, rushing to snatch the napkin from my hand.
Her fingers brush mine, just a fraction of a touch, and the spark is instant.
Sharp. Familiar. Her eyes lift to mine, and I know she felt it too.
Slowly, I let my hand fall back to my side. She clenches the napkin in her fist, her jaw tight, frustration radiating off her. She’s annoyed, not at me, but at the fact I still get under her skin.
“It’s my duty to care for you now.”
“Should’ve thought about that before you announced it to the club instead of me,” she spits, putting the sandwich back on the plate. She scrunches the napkin and places it on top of the half-eaten sandwich.
“Drink,” I order, and she frowns. Placing the plate back on the tray. “I’m not leaving this room till you’ve had a drink.”
She lets out a frustrated sigh but opens the bottle and takes a swig. “Happy?” she asks, arching a sassy brow as she fastens the cap back in place. I nod, making my way back to the door.
She leans her head back against the headboard, gripping the bridge of her nose.
“Did you take those paracetamols I left for you?” I ask, my hand resting on the door handle.
“You can leave now,” she replies.
“Do you need some more?” I open the door, not wanting to leave and trying to get those few extra moments of her finally talking to me.
“Clay,” she growls, “please.”
I swirl the ice around the bottom of my glass, staring aimlessly at it.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here, but she still hasn’t left the confines of my room.
Although she hasn’t been speaking to me, at least I’ve been able to watch her from a distance and know she’s okay.
But today has been a complete mindfuck. I don’t even know what’s going on behind those blue eyes.
“For fuck’s sake, Clay,” Drifter grumbles as he takes a seat beside me at the bar. “You’re like a love-sick puppy, and your moping around is pissing me off.”
I continue to stare into the glass.
“Clay,” he snaps, and I look up. “Grab your shit. You can go do a security shift at the strip club.” I frown. “Brandy’s not working tonight, really think I’d be sending your arse if she was.”
“I need to be here.”
“No, you don’t. Nothing’s going to happen to her whilst she’s here.”
“Can’t Slayer do it?” I nod towards Slayer playing pool with Kitten.
He arches a brow at me. “I don’t think you’re in a position to call the shots.”
I grab my keys off the table and make my way for the exit.
“And Clay,” I turn back around to look at him, “come back in a better fucking mood. I’m not sure how long I can take this pining.”
I pull out of the compound. The sun’s beginning to set, and I shouldn’t be heading out. I should be back there with her, trying whatever I can to make this shit right, but I can’t defy Drifter again with everything he’s done for me over the years. I owe him my life.