Chapter 21 #2
She glances at the door and back to me, probably wondering if she has any other options. She has no idea I already banned anyone else from touching her. “Okay. The second one is here.” She points to her bicep. “The other is here.” Her hand moves to her inner thigh, and her cheeks blush.
Her reaction is adorable, and I feel my lips twitch with a smile, until I realize that another man put his hands on her there.
My jaw clenches, and I keep my eyes lowered, hoping she can’t see the battle of emotions raging inside me.
“Why did he need so many trackers? All it screams to me is that he wasn’t confident enough to keep you safe. ”
Win’s eyes narrow. “In case I was stolen by his enemies. They might find one, but not all of them.”
“Got it,” I reply, thankful when my voice doesn’t shake or waver. My plan to kill Bianchi just keeps sounding better and better.
Reeling in my anger at her captor, my hand moves over her arm softly, and I repeat the same removal process as I did on her back. This time, the tweezers pull out a long, rod-looking item, and I place it on the towel right as Hope comes back in, Lyric following this time.
“That looks like a birth control rod, not a tracker,” Lyric mutters and reaches for Winnie’s free hand.
My whole body locks up. Tension radiates along every muscle inside me, until it almost hurts to breathe.
Winnie was on birth control when we dated, the pill.
She had been reluctant to have an implant, shot, or a ring because she had been scared and was wary of the complications.
I glance at her, but she won’t look at me.
“Just another thing I was forced to do,” Winnie says while squeezing Lyric’s hand.
Rage slams into me, clouding my vision and stealing my air. When I get my hands on Bianchi, he’ll never get the chance to hurt her again. This information only solidifies the decision I’m making to keep her safe. Carefully, I place a Band-Aid on her arm.
“Ready for the last one?” My voice is gruff, but it finally earns me her attention. Winnie’s head turns, and I catch her gaze, holding it, and silently giving her my dark promise to end the man who hurt her.
Sensing that my eyes on her means more than just waiting for an answer, she bites her lip, her cheeks pinkening as she shifts on the bed, her thighs spread. “Yup. Almost done.”
My knees bend down in front of her, bringing my face so close to her delicious pussy that my mouth waters and my heart races.
This feels so familiar, and at the same time, it seems like a past life.
If I thought I was nervous to touch her back or her arm, it's nothing compared to the way my blood pulses in my veins knowing I’ll be touching the inside of her thigh.
Having her spread out in front of me is an intimate scene, one I’ve dreamed about for the past five years.
Except, she isn’t lying here waiting for my mouth to feast on her.
She’s waiting for me to take out the last piece of control that the man who took her hostage put inside her body without her consent.
Feeling more determined to protect Winnie, my hand touches the inside of her thigh, clinically, despite the warmth of her skin on mine.
With my other hand, I gently cut where the last tracker is located.
It takes little effort to extract it, and I swear she sighs in relief once I place it on the towel.
“Are you sure that's the last one?” I ask her, gazing up from where I’m sitting.
Winnie’s eyes meet mine, and she nods slowly. “Yes. Thank you.”
I nod at her, hesitating for a moment before getting back to my feet. She moves to close her legs and sits further back on the bed. The room seems quiet while Hope and Lyric watch us. The last thing I want is to make her more uncomfortable, but we have things to discuss.
“Hope, can you take these last few things to Inspector?” I turn to her. Hope reaches for the towel and takes it from me.
“What is he doing with the trackers?” Winnie asks, her gaze following Hope as she leaves the room.
“First, he’s going to test them to make sure they aren’t going to explode.
If not, then the plan is to have someone here carrying them around.
I’m not sure how in-depth the signal is that they send to Bianchi, but it will at least look like you’re here and that you’re moving around the clubhouse.
If they stayed stationary, we worried it might raise a red flag,” I explain.
Winnie dips her head and makes a humming noise in agreement. “Makes sense.”
My eyes flick to Lyric, finding her already studying me, waiting for me to break the news on the next part of the plan. I straighten and roll my shoulders back. Having this conversation seems more difficult than going to war, but it needs to be done.
“Win, we need to talk about the next steps to ensure your safety.”
Her deep brown eyes lift, colliding with my own. I can read the hesitancy in her features and notice the hint of irritation underlying her calm facade. She’s already made up her mind that she won’t like what I’m going to say. “Do I actually have a choice?”
Lyric snickers, and I narrow my gaze on her. I sometimes forget, though, that she’s married to Karma, so all she does is shrug her shoulders.
Sighing, I run my hand down over my face. “You have options, Win. We can release you back to Bianchi, you can use Lyric’s connections and disappear forever, or you can stop running and let us help you.”
Her head snaps up, her eyes blazing. “You think I’m running from my problems?”
Lyric sucks in a deep breath. “And that's my cue to leave.” She skips to the door, calling over her shoulder, “Talk later, Win!”
Winnie and I are at a standoff, neither of us blinking.
“I don’t think you’re running from your problems. But I do think you’ve been starting over and starting over again.
You shouldn’t have to run from this, Win.
You shouldn’t have to hide because you did nothing wrong.
You deserve the life you want to live without looking over your shoulder, waiting for Bianchi to swoop in. ”
She blinks then blinks again before dropping her eyes to her lap.
Her fingers twine together. I study her, taking in every deep breath, cataloging the way she bites her bottom lip and then how it quivers when she releases it.
I used to know this woman inside and out.
Every dream and every fear. She may have been absent from my life for the past five years, but I still recognize when she’s fighting a battle within herself.
This time, I’m determined to be better, to listen and not react.
So I wait. Silence settles around us for seconds, or maybe minutes as they pass by, but I wait.
I let her think and make her own decisions.
“I don’t want to run. I want my life back.” Her voice is quiet but steady. “So what do I need to do?”
“I offered my place as a sanctuary. It's off the compound, off the grid, and well hidden in the woods. No one except the brothers knows where it is. Karma and Squirrel helped me set up each and every camera and security point. You’ll be safe there,” I quickly explain to her.
Winnie’s eyes get big and her cheeks flame red. “I am not going to your house.”
My hackles rise. “Why not?”
“You think that will make me safe?” She scoffs and jumps off the bed.
Her arms wrap around her middle, and my gut clenches at the way she holds herself.
“I won’t be safe with you, Dodger. I don’t trust you.
There’s too much history and hurt feelings between us.
I want to heal, to be free. And at the end of this, I plan to leave the club behind. ”
“Leave me behind, you mean,” I say as her gaze whips to mine. Not only can I see her pain, but I can feel it deep in my bones where it resonates with mine. “At least this time, before you decide to walk out, let's make sure you have a plan first.”
“Screw you, Dodger,” she grits out, anger snapping in every word. For the first time since she arrived here, she looks alive. She might be hella mad right now, but there's color in her cheeks and a spark in her eye. She’s looking and acting like the woman I remember.
My lips lift in a smirk as I run my eyes over every inch of her. “Anytime, baby.”
Winnie throws her hands up in the air. “And this is why I can’t stay with you. It will never work because I’ll end up killing you before I’m truly safe.”
“Death by your hand would be a blessing. I haven’t been truly alive since you left and took my heart with you anyway.” I shrug, baring my truth and hoping she hears it.
“Don’t do that.” Winnie shakes her head, pacing the floor before glaring at me. Only this time, I see them, the tears she’s holding in. “Don’t make it out that I hurt you, when we both know you destroyed my soul way before you broke my heart.”
“I know, Win. I know it was my fault, that I fucked up. Only when I went to sleep that night, I thought I had a chance to fix it. You left before I even had a chance,” I fire back.
“You had a million chances, Dodger. You kept hurting me instead.” Her shoulders lift and fall before her hand wipes away the tears that landed on her cheek.
I want to hold her. I want to pull her into my arms and rock her body against mine so she can feel the way my heart beats only for her.
As much as I want to hash out our past, right now I can’t make this about her and me.
Winnie’s safety needs to come first. The threats against her need to be eliminated.
Plus, if I keep pissing her off, I’m never going to get her to my cabin.
My girl has always been a spitfire, never afraid to call me out on my bullshit.
I miss that about her. I missed the way it was absent from her at the end before she left.
My hands clench at my sides, and I release them slowly before opening my mouth again.
“Look, we can’t go back and change the past. Right now, my priority is making sure you’re safe, and as much as you may hate it, my place is the best option.
When you see it, it will make more sense.
I know you don’t trust me right now, Win, but at least let me make sure you’re safe from Bianchi. ”
“I don’t trust you, Dodger. And I sure as hell haven’t forgiven you.” She glances away from me. And yeah, that fucking hurt. Her words are another reminder of the hill I have to climb to fix my wrongs.
“That’s fine, Win. I’m still going to protect you anyway,” I respond, feeling a real smile tilt my lips this time. I’ve waited one thousand, four hundred and sixty days for her to set foot in the home I built. I’d say my patience is top tier.
She glances at me quickly, then looks away. “Isn’t your old lady going to be upset that you’re bringing your ex to your house?”
Her words make me freeze. Something like elation spreads through my chest, thinking that she’s jealous.
Until I stare at her long enough and see the naked pain on her face rather than anger, and it hits me.
In our past, I was constantly turning down building us a house.
First, because I wanted to have time to afford it, to prove to her that I could provide for her.
Then later, because of fear that she would eventually realize I wasn’t good enough for her, and then I’d have this house all by myself when she eventually left.
And I used every excuse I could to not take that step out of fear and self-hatred.
We weren’t married. She wasn’t my old lady.
Only married couples could build a house on the compound.
I rented us an apartment under the guise of it being closer to her school just to avoid the discussion.
I force myself to hold her gaze, even as I can feel my emotions clawing at my throat. “I don’t have an old lady, Winnie.”
I want to tell her that there's never been anyone for me but her. I want to tell her I built the cabin, hoping that when I found her, she’d want to live there and make it ours, like we always talked about. But now is not the time, and I haven’t earned the right to apologize yet.
She clears her throat and looks away, giving me her back. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I would just want to be respectful coming into another woman’s home.”
Her words hurt, and I fight the urge to rub my chest with my hand. “There isn’t another woman.”
She falls silent, and I can only watch as she breathes in and out, deeply as if she’s using her calming meditation shit.
I smile, picturing her eyes closed, and her lips pursed like she used to before taking a big test or preparing for a long night of studying.
Still, I don’t want to be the cause of her stress right now.
Especially when we’re only at the tip of the iceberg of problems we’re about to face.
“I’d like to leave today for the cabin so we can start the next part of the plan to keep you safe.
Take your time. I’ll be outside when you’re ready.
” Without waiting for her response, I walk out of the room and gently close the door behind me.
I’ve spent so many years avoiding this room and all the memories that it holds.
Leaving this time, knowing she’ll be following me, wakes up something that’s been dormant for years.
Something I thought I let go of when I realized she wasn’t coming back. Something I’m terrified to name. Hope.