It takes a lot of trust to show someone your weak spot, to lay yourself out there naked for all to see, and pray they won’t take advantage of you. That’s what she’s doing. She may not realize it, but I just became her anchor. I’ll give her this one moment to pull herself back together then give her hell again when she’s ready. I won’t kick a man down when his back is turned, unable to fight back, and it’s the same thing right now. On the other side of the door, I can hear the shuffle of feet and laughter, but the loudest sound is her breathing that hasn’t calmed down.
“Hey,” I whisper softly in a raspy voice, feeling her jump in my arms as her gaze connects with mine, as if she forgot I was here. “You need to breathe. Think of something that makes you happy, a time where you couldn’t stop laughing,” I suggest, letting her know that it’s just the two of us here sitting in the dark where no one can see her breaking.
Her brow wrinkles as she stares up at me, her deep brown eyes look a little lost as if she can’t think of one. I watch her mouth open and close a few times but she doesn’t say anything.
“That’s kind of sad, you know? I don’t have many moments but I can pick out a few that come to mind.” I tilt my head, staring at her for a long minute, wondering what kind of life she’s had if she can’t find a moment where she felt like she could laugh.
“Like what?” she asks on a shuddering breath, her eyes closing as she tries to calm her racing pulse.
“There was this one time I got kidnapped. One of my best memories actually,” I smile, remembering it like it was just yesterday, even though it was a couple of years ago.
“You're crazy.” She snorts in disbelief, her eyelids fluttering open to stare at me as if I’m well…crazy.
I shift her in my arms to hold her closer against my chest and lean back against the wall to get comfortable because I’m in no hurry to leave. Plus, this gives me a chance to get some answers out of her, if I share a little about myself.
“Only the best kind. Now shut the fuck up so I can tell my story.” I glare down at her to see her biting her bottom lip and I don’t like the way my chest squeezes at the way she’s looking at me.
As if I’m her only hope of a small escape in her dark world. Ever since she’s shown up, this lost look hasn’t left her eyes. It’s the kind of look you get when you think there isn’t a way out, you're stuck in one place and don’t know what to do. I don’t want her looking at me like that. I’m not a hero and never will be.
“I come from a home filled with violence. Raised in a world of crime that just seems like any other normal day to me. I’ve been following in my old man’s footsteps since I was a kid, being groomed to take over for him when he’s ready to step down or die on his bike. Either one. Being the next to take over comes with a price… there’s always someone who wants your crown instead. A traitor, snitch, a spy in the midst of the club. I learned a lesson the day I was kidnapped.” I pause, staring hard into her eyes and curling my arms harder around her to the point I know it’s painful but she doesn’t glance away, only curls her lip at me in annoyance.
There she is.
“What did you learn?” She glares back at me, knowing where I’m going with this, and she’s gripping my shirt with both fists now as if she’s going to shake me.
This is more like her. Fire brimming in her eyes, her gaze looks like she’s wishing that I’d burn to ashes so she can dance in my remains. I can see her doing that.
“Never trust anyone, even those who say they are loyal to you. I learned my lesson after being buried alive for three days with only a small pipe sticking out of the ground to keep me breathing.” I smile widely and that causes her to draw back from me like I’m sick in the head or something.
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asks warily.
“Because it wasn’t my club brothers that found me. It was Logan, Tey, and Nicky. I didn’t waste time killing those who betrayed my club. I became stronger physically and mentally because I showed them all that no one can mess with me. Revenge is best served cold and now their bodies are buried in the place they tried to keep me, to forever be frozen in the dirt.” I shake my head, reliving that memory and when my eyes focus back on her, she’s staring up at me in wonder, her face closer to mine.
“How? Where does that strength come from, to face something that can leave scars?” She lets go of my shirt and grasps my face between her palms, squishing my cheeks until my lips pucker and brings me closer as she begs me to answer her.
“It’s either ride or die, baby. You should know that already. Now, stop being pathetic and weak. It’s not like they got very far, only a busted lip and a flash of panties. Maybe don’t wear a red thong to school.” I shove her hands away, hating how good they feel on my skin, soft and warm.
I need space from her to clear my head. The slap comes out of nowhere, whipping my head to the side. I slowly turn back to her, rubbing my jaw as I shift the tender spot back and forth at the sting.
“I’m going to kill you.” She actually growls at me, so much venom in her gaze that it’s turning me the fuck on, but then again she can breathe and it makes my cock rise to the occasion.
“You can try. I do love a good fight.” I stare down at my scabbed knuckles, remembering the guy I knocked out flat on his ass just a few days ago.
“You guys are unbelievable. Not everything needs to be violent or controlled. Where is that freedom of knowing peace? Aren’t you tired of fighting all the time?” She grabs my hand, sliding her delicate fingers over my cuts with her brow wrinkled, like she doesn’t understand why I need to fight.
I think deep down she does know. If my hunch is right about the scars decorating her skin that she tries to cover up with tattoos, she’s had to fight her way through enough battles that most people never see in their lifetime. Why does she fight herself on fully living when she can be fighting her way through those that have hurt her? I’ve already hurt her and when she finds a way to bring me down, I don’t think I’ll want to get off my knees. While she’s trapped under our wings, I’m going to teach her it’s okay to fight your way through people with fists.
“Fight me, little bitch. Show me what you got.” I grab her wrists with one hand and slam them against the mats over her head, leaning my upper body over hers before she can blink.
“Get off of me. I mean it, Dalton. I’m tired of all this bullshit.” She blinks rapidly and glances away from me to stare somewhere over my shoulder.
“Where’s the fire, Tillie? Why aren’t you fighting your way to the freedom that you crave so much huh?” She ignores my question and that just won’t do.
I want her undivided attention centered right on me.
I quickly roll, bringing her with me as I grasp her waist with my other hand until she’s sprawled out on my chest. I let go of her hands and watch as she leans up with her palms braced on my pecs, her long hair falling forward to give the illusion that it’s just us and no one else on the other side of the doors.
“Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you, just this once. Fight me.” I grin at her as she cocks her head in confusion to the side.
