Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Danika
My head is being used as a base drum with every movement I make.
Even the slightest twitch of muscle and my temples start pulsating.
The headache—no migraine is unreal. This is worse than any hangover I’ve ever experienced.
Way worse and the light is really challenging me.
But here I am, at Tank’s gym and I’m doing this today.
Or so I believe because as soon as I start throwing punches, my body screams for me to stop.
I love to punish myself.
When I woke this morning, Hush was gone. I’m not surprised, maybe disappointed, but not surprised. I figured he wouldn’t have stayed. I mean, why would he?
With a squint, because the snow is making everything brighter, I leave the gym disappointed in my shit workout.
But when a light and a shadowy movement catch my eye from inside the shop, I can’t help but peer inside.
It’s not even eight am yet, but Hush’s motorcycle is out front.
I try my luck with the door and when it opens, I get a rush of something.
Excitement maybe. I’m not sure, but whatever force pulls me inside, I don’t fight it.
It smells of paint, metal, and grease, but also a subtle hint of citrus. There must be an air freshener around somewhere. My hair falls over my shoulder when I tilt my head, scanning the motorcycles lined up. Some obviously being worked on, and others look finished.
I jolt from a noise stemming from the back and Hush steps out of a square room and closes the translucent door behind him.
His broad back and muscles are visible even under his hoodie.
He’s not wearing his club’s cut, but I’m assuming that’s because he didn’t want to get paint all over it. That part is obvious.
He removes the black gloves, tossing them aside, and takes off his respirator mask, placing it on the metal work bench.
It’s like my body freezes in time, watching him in tenderness.
This man fascinates me in the worst conceivable way.
Maybe it’s his natural kindness, his mystery, or simply because I like his aura when he is around.
Welcoming the quiet he presents. It’s a peace and calmness.
When he turns, our gazes finally meet, but his body visibly tenses from where I stand.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I saw the light on and became nosey.”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a thing as I progress toward him slowly. “I didn’t know you paint.” There isn’t a way to have known considering I don’t know much about Hush.
He clears his throat, tossing his used gloves that sit on the ground into the trash, then closing the gap on us. My head tilts up to be able to still meet his eyes, and he shrugs. “Just something to do I guess.”
I cast a glance inside the spray booth hoping to steal a peek at whatever it is he’s working on. And good doesn’t begin to describe what I see. A floral landscape with intricate detail lines the body of a motorcycle. A mix of different shades of purple makes it so elegant and beautiful.
“You’re really talented. Did you always like to paint?” When I turn back, he’s still staring at me. It’s the same way he always looks at me. It’s honest, sincere, safe, yet debilitating all the same.
“It was something I…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I picked up.” His voice is a lullaby, a tune any person can get captured in. I say that because when he speaks of something that seems deep and hardening to him, his voice changes. It becomes less lethal and more sorrowful.
“That’s one hell of a talent to discover,” I say, watching as the lids to his eyes flicker. Like whatever thought or memory he was recently diving into diminishes.
“Thanks.” He shyly breaks our profound eye lock, stalking past me and to the front of the shop.
Something I notice about Hush, he doesn’t like small talk and that’s fine, honestly, nowadays, I don’t either.
But it makes him visibly uncomfortable, like the thought of anyone knowing anything about him turns him off completely.
On a table near the front of the shop sat a coffee maker with the pot full. I thought I smelled evidence of a past brew mixed with citrus as I walked in.
“Coffee?” He holds up the small plastic cup, and I try to lessen my reaction on how fantastic that truly sounds.
“You’re my hero.” Again. “I haven’t been able to shake this head pounding since I woke up.”
The carafe makes a clinking sound when he places it back into its rightful place, after pouring each of us a cup. The smell alone is enough to cure my hangover, which I hadn’t asked for in the first place.
The cup warms my fingers and palms and when I go to sip it, a moan involuntarily escapes.
Who knew such a liquid could satisfy every part of me like this.
I open my eyes to find Hush watching me and the heat rises on my face.
But there must have been a quick of unfamiliarity or uncomfortableness because he quickly averts his attention back to his own cup.
“It’s a nasty side effect from the drug.” He picks up a sugar packet.
I shake my head. “Plain coffee is my go-to.” I do love it without anything added, Lydia always calls me crazy weird for drinking it that way, but it’s an unpopular personal preference I suppose.
Lydia… I need to check on her.
Hush doesn’t add anything to his either and we both stand in comfortable silence before he asks, “Did you sleep okay?”
“Woke up at three am. Worst hangover ever. But honestly over the last few months, my sleep has been a pile of shit.” I don’t need to explain why because his knowing glance tells me he knows. I take another sip then ask, “What about you? You seem to be an early riser.”
His gaze drops to his cup. “I don’t sleep well either.” Taking his focus back over me, goosebumps rise on my arms. For eyes so dark, they hold so much emotion.
He glances outside, the morning sun peering in through the windows. “How did you get here?”
“I took the first scheduled bus.” I sucked up my loathing for public transportation. However, the pepper spray was tightly held in my grip the whole time. Living in fear is something I’m getting used to.
His eyes darken. “Danika, anytime you want to come to the gym, I’ll pick you up.”
My heart quickens at his offer. “I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t like being a burden.”
“You didn’t ask me. I’m offering.” He shakes his head. “Fuck that, I’m not offering. I’m telling you to call me.”
My heart jumps from the boldness. The dominating command. “And freeze to death on your motorcycle? No thanks,” I joke, adding a smirk, but my heart still beats uncontrollably.
A subtleness of amusement passes over him before it quickly vanishes. “The guys let me borrow their rides.”
Do I have any plans to ask him for one? Not really. But… “Give me your phone.”
With a harsh swallow, he takes out his cell from his jeans pocket, handing it over. Our fingers lightly brush, sending a bolt of electricity through me. I pretend to ignore the powerful feeling and type my number in, handing it back.
“There. Now you’ll always have it. And if you want me to have yours, I’ll expect a text from you because how will I ever ask for that ride?” I smile. “You’ve saved me multiple times now, so I assume we’re friends at this point.” I hold my breath waiting for a reply.
“Danika…”
I can’t help it, my eyes flutter closed at his feathering tone, but I hurry and open them before it seems weird. “What? You don’t have room for another friend?”
His gaze darts away from mine. “I don’t really have friends.”
Confusion strikes me. “You have your whole club.” I don’t know the details of being part of an MC but there’s no denying the closeness that radiates off every one of them when they are together.
“They’re my brothers. It’s… different.”
I’m not entirely sure what he means, but a beep sounds.
I glance outside and Tequila waves to me from the driver side of her car.
“I should go. I told Tequila I’d meet her for breakfast. And before you ask, no, I don’t need a ride.
She’s right outside.” I smirk with a wink, both of us sharing a look of surprise.
It’s a friendly, innocent move but a flirty one, nonetheless.
The shock alone is because I haven’t been cutesy in so long.
I used to flirt and was good at it. I loved being playful, fun, and confident. It gave me a sense of power. Like, I was the one in charge. But the thought of being that way now, that silly confident me I once knew, sends an uneasy feeling inside.
“Good.” He holds my stare captive and my body warms.
“Thanks for the coffee.” My hand reaches for his arm, softly touching the firmness of his muscles. Even under his thick sweatshirt I could feel them. There’s no obvious repulsion in his reaction this time. Still, I don’t keep my hand there long, not wanting to overstep the welcome.
But as I leave the shop, without even a glance back, I can feel his eyes on me.
On the drive to the café, Tequila made me spill what happened last night. Showing my vulnerable side is difficult, but with her, I don’t find it weird or awkward. It’s comforting being able to lean on someone.
A friend.
Speaking of, I do shoot Lydia a text checking in and immediate relief floods over me when she tells me she’s okay. Only left with a serious head drumming like me. She promises to be done with clubs and bars, but we’ll see. Lydia, in ways, was the me before it all happened.
At least my mind can rest a bit knowing she’s safe, and Bullet and Hush being there could not have been better timing. Why were they there last night? What type of business leads them to be at a nightclub?
A twinge of jealousy rolls my stomach. No. No way is Hush out at clubs picking up women.
The waiter brings us a giant mug of coffee. It tastes devine, but somehow, I prefer the one Hush poured me at the shop.
Tequila’s stare practically burns a hole through me.
“Tequila. I love that you’re worried about me, but I am fine.”
There’s pity in her eyes and I can’t stand pity. I’d take disappointment, anger, but not pity.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah. I mean, what are the odds, right?” I scoff out a laugh, letting the mug warm my hands. She sends me another emphatic look. “And I know how sorry you are because you kept telling me the entire way here. But you have no reason to be.”
“Shouldn’t you get checked out though? I mean, they freakin’ drugged you.”
“No way am I going to the hospital. I was still fully conscious. A little loopy but awake. The only side effect is this massive pain in the ass headache, which this coffee is helping cure. So, thanks by the way.”
“Ugh. Screw the coffee. You deserve so much more than this, Danika. I promise you do.” There’s strong passion behind her words.
I force a smile, letting her believe those same words touch me somehow.
“You need to believe it, too.”
Clearly, I’m not very convincing and even for being a new friend, she can read me so well.
I gnaw on my upper lip, staring down at my latte. “I wish I did. But when bad things keep happening to you, you start to accept it. Start to believe it’s your life.”
“But that’s bullshit. You’re stronger than that.”
I huff out laughter. “I used to be. Now I’m just the girl who’s meant to be used then tossed out like trash.
” My eyes start to burn because I don’t want to give up.
But there’s a part of me that was tired of it all.
Sure, Tequila could sympathize with parts of my haunting memories, but she can’t possibly understand it all. And I wouldn’t expect her to.
“Danika—”
“How are things with you and Throttle?” I cut her off, taking a sip of coffee that fake heals the pain.
Her mouth tilts up with a sad smile. “We’re good. Well, great actually.” Her face lights up when she talks about him. “He is acting a little secretive lately, so I think he might propose soon.”
“Oh my God! Wait that’s amazing.” I sit forward in my seat anxiously waiting for more details.
“I am hoping if he does, he at least waits until after Jules’s wedding.”
“You both seem so happy together.”
“We are. I mean, we better be after being in love with each other for so many years.” Her cheeks turn pink over her olive skin.
She grins, setting aside her mug so she can lean closer.
“So… you and Hush have been hanging around each other a bit.” She doesn’t smile or smirk, hiding the hint of glee the best she can. But I see where this is going.
“If you call him having to save my pathetic ass at least once a week, then sure, we’re hanging out.”
With a roll of her eyes, she snorts. “I’m not talking about last night. Though, I will say it’s like a guardian angel of the universe sent him. I’m talking about this morning. And Tank might have mentioned he saw you two working out together.”
“First of all, this morning we weren’t purposely hanging out. I saw a light on and invited myself into the shop because my morbid curiosity is a bitch and two, that was coincidence since we both can’t seem to sleep.”
Some of Tequila’s excitement vanishes. “Whatever the reason, I’m hoping you can break through Hush’s walls because the poor guy walks around like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
” There’s so much truth to that, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just as curious.
“But there is a side of Hush that is so unknown and kind of intimidating. I’m not sure if scary is the right word but… ”
My brows furrow because that man is anything but scary. “Really? He’s always been so nice to me.” My voice softens and Tequila smiles.
“He is the club’s enforcer for a reason,” she says. “But I won’t be mad if you and him became friends. I think he needs someone like you right now. Throttle said he’s becoming more distant if that’s even possible.”
“You’re worried about him.”
Her face turns to sadness. “We all are.”
“Then I’ll do my best.”
With a twinkle in her eye she says, “He’s important to the guys. To all of us. Someone that pretty shouldn’t be so… sad.”
Is it sadness that holds Hush down so much or is it something else?
Tequila’s unsettling breaths has me waiting in anticipation. “I’m not sure I ever said this to you, but… I’m glad you gave me, well, us a chance. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad we met. Obviously, I wish it was in better terms.” She snorts. “But I’m glad we had each other in that awful place.”
My mind wavers to the warehouse, imagining the dark, cold, prison all over again. “Me too.”
We’ll never be able to turn back time but maybe having each other moving forward isn’t such a bad thing.