Man or mouse, this time was too close. She was out of control and I’m lucky she didn’t kill me. What would I do if it happens again? I don’t have it in me to retaliate. Everything inside me screams that I can’t hurt a woman, that she needs my protection and support rather than violence. She might pack a hard punch, but mine would be far worse. No, I can’t lay a hand on her, I can’t risk losing control of my temper.
I’ll move back to the clubhouse. Set the divorce in motion again. Get a good lawyer.
I raise my fist, but put it down gently, not wanting to add any additional pain.To hell with any problems it might cause with her parole officer. She’s broken us, not me.
I don’t want to be around Britney anymore. For the sake of my sanity, I can’t be around her. Yes. Moving back and leaving her to fend for herself will be my best bet.
She might follow me to the clubhouse. She might out me to my brothers. She might…
It takes me a moment in my pain-filled haze to recognise the vibrating buzz of my phone. Taking it out, I glance down, wondering whether it’s her calling to apologise for her over-the-top reaction. It’s what I used to expect in the old days—her to hurt me, then offer some form of reparation.
But it’s not her. It’s my prez.
“Red.” I clear my throat to try to strengthen my voice.
“Need you at the clubhouse now.”
Grimacing, not feeling up to riding my bike, I wonder whether I can put him off. “Is it urgent, Prez?”
“What part ofnowdon’t you fuckin’ understand?”
Christ, he sounds pissed off.So pissed, there’s only one answer I can give him. “I’m on my way.”
Has something happened to RoseLyn?She’s safe, isn’t she? God forbid there was a remaining snake in her house. Feeling guilty at the way I just left her, I check my phone but there are no other calls or texts that I missed. Fuck, I hope nothing’s happened to her. Could she have made a complaint about me? Nah, RoseLyn’s not like that.
Red’s known for his redheaded temper, and once roused you don’t want to be in the vicinity. Is he annoyed in general, or is it specifically me?
RoseLyn might have betrayed my secrets to him.But while I feel vulnerable having put the truth out there, I still don’t think she’d out me.
But she might…
Fuck, women. Why don’t I learn I can’t trust them? I should have put my foot down and refused to go to Texas at all, then Britney would have had no reason to hurt me.
She doesn’t need a reason,I remind myself.And RoseLyn’s not her.I can’t see any reason that RoseLyn would have betrayed me.
Fuck, I can’t even think straight through this pain. Putting my hands to the small of my back and using them to help me straighten, I realise my kidneys have taken some blows, and I suspect I’ll be pissing blood for a while. My balls feel tender though the pain no longer makes me want to throw up. Limping a couple of steps, feeling a sharp stabbing which has me wondering whether she stomped on my knee while I was unconscious, I face the mirror.
Britney hasn’t lost any of her skills over the years. Apart from the paleness of my face, my red-drawn eyes, watery from that kick to my groin, my skin is unmarked. Fuck it, but I thought I was done with this seven years ago. Seems though, yet again, I’ve got to call on my strength, hide the hurts that she’s done, and walk into the clubhouse and face my prez as if I’m the very picture of good health.
No one can know.If I feel like I’ve gone ten rounds with the world heavy-weight record holder, I’ll have to keep that to myself.
It’s not that I’m a stranger to injury. I was a soldier for fuck’s sake, hurt in the line of duty. And you don’t live the biker lifestyle without picking up a few scars. Apart from those who pick battles with us just because they don’t like our faces, I often spar with my brothers and take part in our regular bouts in the ring. Only a couple of months ago I was out of line and said some painful things about Red’s kid—my excuse that was before I got to know them. Prez rightfully took me down in the ring, and I can tell you, that man hits hard. And then I got into a car crash when I was supposed to be protecting Zeke. They left me bleeding with a broken nose, cracked ribs, and a bump on the head coincidentally in about the same place that Britney had hit me.
So yeah, I’m no stranger to pain or having to deal with it. And like most men, I’ve got my brave face perfected. But this is the first time in seven years that I’ve had to actively hide anything’s happened to me.I thought I was done with that shit.
I’d rather curl up in bed and groan my way through my pain, but while I might not know what’s got my prez riled, whatever it is, I’m not fool enough to make it worse by refusing his instruction. I can’t tell him the truth. No fucking way. I’d die before I let him know how weak I am.
Eyeing the painkillers, I take another dose. Not what a doctor would order, but I need some help. I toss my bike key in my hand, take a deep breath, then exhale sharply as I regret it, and make my way out the door.
“You okay?”
Glancing down as I’ve descended the first step painfully and stiffly, I notice one of the hairdressers who works in the salon downstairs, putting out some trash. Breathing more carefully, I make every effort to stand straight.
“Fuckin’ ace, woman,” I growl.
Used to me and my rudeness, she shakes her head and that’s the end of her sympathy. I wait until she’s disappeared inside to complete my torturous journey down the stairs.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.I force myself over to my bike, my head spinning, and my whole body in agony.Am I safe to ride?Doesn’t matter whether I feel it or not, I’ll have to be. But even when I sit my ass on the seat gingerly, my tender balls make me suck in air.
