CHAPTER TWELVE
Axe
I tried to keep calm, I really did, but by the time she was done my body was visibly shaking with anger.
As she looked at me, her eyes held a hollowness that told me she wasn’t completely there. I had no idea if she could tell how I was feeling. I couldn’t even speak. Whatever she might have needed from me right then, she wasn’t going to get. Not because I didn’t want to give it to her. I was just too blinded by the fury I felt running through my veins to be able to reach out to her.
Her story only reminded me of my own and I couldn’t help but become enraged at the thought that the both had to go through that.
Images of my past danced like little demons around the outer rim of my mind.
I felt sick and for a long moment, I hated myself. I was downright disgusted at the man I’d become.
She had been through some of the sickest shit I could ever imagine. And that was saying something coming from me.
Yet, she had somehow made her way out.
And there I was, treating her just the same.
I had put my hands on her and in my mind, I wanted to do more than that. Hell, it wasn’t even a few hours ago I imagined marking her—having my fucked up way with her, all while I got off to it.
I was a monster, just like her fucking husband.
Thinking that she was married made my head dizzy with rage. But that was only the tip of it. She’d been forced to do things no one should ever have to do. And while I could tell there was more to her story, I couldn’t even bring myself to push for the rest. I couldn’t imagine reliving that was easy. It was clear that she’d figured out how to deal a long time ago. That vacant look in her eyes and the emotionless tone she had when she spoke about it was a dead giveaway. My heart ached for her and the boy.
Never in a million years would I have imagined that we were so alike. I had my ways that I adapted to get through each day as a kid. Some of those things still carried on in my life even though the threat was no longer there. Like the weird tone thing and my inability to have a normal life. My father had robbed me of so many things, just the way her captor had done to her.
There were a few things I wanted to do at that moment and all of them pretty much contradicted each other.
One, I wanted to touch her. I wanted to comfort her even if she seemed like she didn’t need or want it. I wanted to take away her pain, though I knew I never would be able to.
Two, I wanted to stand up and fight for her. I wanted to show her that she was worth standing at the front lines of the war for. I had this need to not only want to protect her but help her rise up and become the strong woman she could be. And I knew she had it in her, I saw it every time she didn’t back down to me when I had tried my hardest to intimidate her. Every time she looked at me with eyes that could cut a man dead.
Three, and this one is the real twisted one, I wanted to hold her down and claim her. I wanted to mark her. I wanted to know how she felt under me. I had a strong urge to let her know she was mine.
And that last one was the thing that had me getting to my feet with a lightning speed jump. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t breathe and I knew that the longer I was around her, the harder it would be to control myself.
To me, it didn’t matter if she seemed like she wanted it—and I could tell she wanted it. She could try and hold her own all she wanted, but when I got near her, really crowded her space, her body reacted in the most responsive way. That was what was fucked up.
While I didn’t actually know in detail what he did to her, I had a pretty good idea. So, it wasn’t even a little bit okay that I treated her the same way that he had.
I mumbled something unintelligible and walked to the door. I didn’t look at her as I waved Calvin over and told him to stay in the house. I couldn’t put enough space between us fast enough.
I rode my bike around for over an hour. Her words replayed over and over in my head. Hearing those things had been hard as fuck. I couldn’t imagine anyone having to go through that. It was beyond sick and I wanted to hunt the guy down and gut him. He would have a slow, painful death if I had anything to do with it.
That was it, I was determined to take care of this myself. Only I knew I would need to give her a few days before I asked for more. I feared that if she stayed too long in the memories that she would truly break. I got that she thought she already had, but what she didn’t realize, was that finding her ways to cope showed more strength and determination to survive.
No, she wasn’t broken, maybe a little cracked and messed up, but she was nowhere near done with life.
Frustrated, tired, and unable to sort through all the things in my head, I made my way to the bar. The only one in town and it was a sad sight. It was owned by our VP, Loch and mostly ran by his old lady Reagan. She’d managed to turn the place around a bit and now the inside didn’t seem as much of a dump as it looked from the outside.
I knew a few brothers would be there. It was where we all went when we wanted to hang out but were tired of looking at the walls of the clubhouse.
I went inside and plopped my ass on one of the stools at the bar top. I sent a few chin lift greetings to some of my brothers but didn’t give any indication that I wanted company. Chris walked over and set a bottle down in front of me and I gave him a nod.
I didn’t drink a lot and I had a limit. Two max, ever, and I didn’t drink every day or even every other day. The last thing I wanted to do was turn into my father. That was just one of my many ways I had of keeping myself in check.
“Everything alright?” Chris asked after I tossed the last swallow down.
“As good as it can get, man,” I replied and he let out a small chuckle.
“Not to be an asshole, but you look like shit.” I huffed out a laugh and I could only imagine how bad I did look. “Known you for years, dude. I’ve seen you mad, pissed the fuck off, happy…well…happy for you, and I’ve even been witness to you when you’re horny. But I’ve never seen this.” He waved his hand in my face.
“You ever felt like you have to hide part of yourself, like a big part?” I asked, my attention not really on who I was talking to.
A few seconds of silence ticked on and I blinked my focus to him. His brow was raised and his face was screaming ‘really?’ at me so loud that I could almost hear the sarcasm. I chuckled, realizing who I was actually asking that question to.
Chris was very much comfortable in his bisexuality, though I knew it hadn’t always been that way. Truth was, I usually forgot about it. The whole label—preference, whatever the hell you want to call it—didn’t really matter to me. He was Chris, and that was that.
“You have to be who you are or else you’ll never truly be happy. As long as you aren’t raping, stealing, kidnapping, torturing, or murdering,” he paused and I raised a brow at him. With the exception of raping, I was pretty sure most of the brothers could check most of those boxes, if not all. And it wasn’t like Chris had blinders on when it came to club business. He rolled his eyes and continued, “people that don’t deserve it…then I don’t see the what the big deal is. Sure there are people out there that won’t understand you and may judge you but that is why I surround myself with people that are comfortable with it or simply don’t care.” He shrugged like the answer should have been that simple to see.
I had no reply to that, at least not one that I felt I could voice out loud. It seemed so simple yet, didn’t really help me feel any better about my situation.
I gave him a confused thanks and then headed off.
It was late and by the time I got back to the house, Allison and Neiryn were upstairs and I assumed asleep. I settled down on the couch and tried my best to rest. My mind must have exhausted itself, because I drifted off not long after.
The next day, Allison gave me the cold shoulder. I figured it was because she felt the need to shield herself now that she’d opened up to me. I gave her the day. I let her think that she could put space between us and that I wasn’t going to push her for more information.
It also helped that Cal called church. It was basically a welcome back meeting for Tank and to catch him up to speed.
I went to the clubhouse a little early because I needed to talk to Bocca. He was already on the Allison thing, trying to dig up any information he could find about her. Her name had been a bust, no one matching her popped up under it, and that told me right there that she’d lied to me about that. I wondered what else she lied about or was hiding.
I filled him and Cal in at the same time so I wouldn’t have to repeat that shit. Bocca clearly had a hard time keeping his cool the more I told him. To imagine that anyone would do that to an innocent girl was beyond all of us. Bocca walked away with an urgency to find something right the fuck now. He was good with that computer shit, so I knew it was only a matter of time before he picked up something.
It was obvious that the Savage thing had him irritated. He was having a hard time finding anything on the man and his club. For Bocca, not being able to help the club at a time like this made him feel like a failure and that shit was written in his eyes. I couldn’t be mad at him though, it wasn’t like he wasn’t trying. The guy was losing sleep over the damn thing, had been for months.
Church seemed to drag on. I had to be honest, my mind drifted a few times. I really did try to hold it together, but I just couldn’t. The last twenty-four hours had gotten to me—Allison had gotten to me. And not to mention, how shitty I’d treated her—that really fucking got to me.
I wanted to find a way to make up for that but I didn’t even have the first clue on what to do. Was there even a way to make up for treating someone the exact same way they had by their captor and abuser. No…no, there was not. Asshole wasn’t a strong enough word for me.
After the meeting, I tried to scoot my way out unnoticed. Contradictory as it sounded, I needed fresh air and a damn cigarette.
All I’d ever had to worry about was myself and the club. That was a very different thing from having to worry about a child. And while Neiryn was in no way mine, I knew that being around him I’d have to watch myself. Like I knew I couldn’t cuss, and I tried my hardest not to, I did. Also, I wasn’t an idiot, I knew smoking was bad and I also was aware of the second-hand smoke shit. I knew that stuff clung to my skin and clothes. I knew that it lingered on me long after I was done with my smoke. So, I tried to keep that shit away from them as much as I could.
I was here, and I figured I might as well. I didn’t need to snap because I wanted a smoke. I mean, I had enough control over myself that I knew I wouldn’t, but right then, I just needed one.
Tank followed me outside. I started to ramble about Allison and her son. Then I stopped, feeling like shit because Tank’s boy was gone.
Then he blew my damn mind.
He told me that his boy was alive on a whisper, and I almost wasn’t sure that I’d heard him right. The look on his face told me I did. There was a happiness shining in his eyes, but I could tell it was dulled a little. While he may have had his son, or at least would soon, he’d somehow found himself in love with a woman he couldn’t really have.
Now Killer…she scared the fuck out of me. She had a freaky look in her eye and once I’d found out she was a motherfuckin’ contract killer, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to run or shake her hand. There was no denying the way she felt about my massive friend. As much as she tried to hide her emotions, inside and out, she melted for the guy. When I’d been in Gray Fort, pissed that Tank was knocked out with a gunshot wound, I’d wanted to rip her throat out thinking she had something to do with it. But, then I saw them together and, damn, I almost ached to have the same thing.
I hated that the newfound information about his son was dampened by the fact that he’d lost the girl. It seemed like nothing could ever go right for Tank.
I decided then, that I wouldn’t burden him with my problems. Inhaling a deep breath of smoke, loving the way it burned as it filled my lungs, I wrapped up the conversation as quickly as possible without seeming rude. Then I headed out and back to where I longed to be, even if being there sent me into a tailspin of emotions.