Michelle
I felt sort of cold all over. It was strange. I knew I should feel warm, but I couldn’t get there. No matter how hot I made the water in the shower, there was still a coolness in me that the water couldn’t reach. Even when my skin turned bright red, it wasn’t enough to warm me up. Then again, I wasn’t sure if the redness was from the heat or from the way I scrubbed myself raw. Maybe a mixture of the two.
I wondered if that was what shock was like, feeling cold even though there was no reason to. Another thing I’d heard about on TV and was suddenly experiencing for real. Going into shock after a great trauma. It had been a big day for me.
Never in my life had I ever been so relieved as I was when that door opened and I saw Eric standing outside. I didn’t think I’d feel that much relief if my mother suddenly went into remission—that’s how tangible it was. I could hardly believe it was real, and for a second, I thought I had to be dreaming. No way he saved me like that. But he had.
I thought about what Mac and I joked over in the kitchen at Mom’s. A knight in shining armor. That was all I could think about as he seated me on his bike and whisked me off into the sunset, as it were. Only it wasn’t sunset. That was about the only thing that didn’t fit. Otherwise, all the pieces fell into place. He rode in, saved me, and rode away with me behind him. With my arms wrapped around his waist and the side of my face against his shoulder.
I wondered what sort of person he really was, deep inside. It took real bravery and courage to do what he did, to stop that van and rescue me. I imagined he’d chased it down for a while, too. He must have ridden hard to catch up with us. All to save me. It didn’t seem real.
But he was real. And he was waiting for me in bed when I finished showering.
When I crawled in beside him and felt his arm wrap around me, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It felt right. I felt safe. He was what I needed. I slid an arm around his waist and held onto him.
“Tell me something good about you,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
I felt the rumble of laughter in his chest a split second before I heard it. “Something good about me? I don’t know that there’s such a thing.”
“Bullshit.” I glanced up at him, his blond hair glowing in the light from the lamp by the bed. Like a halo. A fallen angel, I thought. Wasn’t Lucifer the most beautiful of all the angels? Eric definitely qualified. “There’s gotta be something good you can tell me.”
“Let me think.”
I settled back in while he thought it over. He smelled so good and felt so good. Heavenly, really. Another tie-in. I laughed at myself for being corny, and knew he would laugh at me if he had any idea what was going through my head.
“I like animals,” he said. “Dogs, mostly. I’m a dog person.”
“Why don’t you have one, then? Oh, right, you were away.” I could have slapped my forehead, I felt so dumb for asking. Talk about awkward.
He didn’t make a big deal about it, though. “Right.”
“But you’ve been back for a while. Why not adopt one?”
He took a deep breath. “The sort of life I live…I don’t know that I wanna bring anything into it. Or anybody.”
He must have felt me stiffen against him. “I’m sorry if that sounds morbid or whatever, but it’s how I feel. Like, what if something happened to me and I never came home again? That wouldn’t be fair to the poor dog.”
“I guess.” How sad, limiting himself like that because of the club.
“That didn’t turn out to be such a nice thing about me, did it?”
I had to giggle. “No, it didn’t.”
“Maybe it would be easier for you to tell me something good about you. You probably have more good things in your life than I do. I’m not trying to get sympathy. It’s just true.”
I thought about it. “My best friend’s name is Mackenzie. She’s been my friend since we were kids. She’s like a sister to me. I never had any brothers or sisters.”
“Me neither. Slash is my best friend.”
“Slash?”
He snorted. “Stephen. But he goes by Slash. I don’t know why.”
I snorted, too. “So you were an only child, like me.”
“Yeah. It kinda sucked sometimes.”
“I know what you mean. I always wished I had a brother or sister to play with. Even though my friends always complained about theirs.”
“I know, right? They didn’t get it.”
“Where are your parents? Did you grow up around here?” He flinched. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, but his voice was tight. He was holding back some sort of emotion. “They, uh, they died a long time ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” I hugged him a little tighter. He knew the pain I felt, then.
“Yeah. A drunk driver hit them. I was at school.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
“Jeez. That’s terrible.”
“So I joined the club as soon as I was old enough to get through the door. Or, not joined. I told you about it.”
“Yeah. They sorta let you hang around.”
“I guess you could say they raised me, for the most part. Spike’s like a father to me.”
“I’m glad you had something, at least.” Even if it was a bunch of criminals who made you a criminal, too.
“Yeah, it could have been a lot worse.” I wondered how, exactly, but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.
“My dad died a while back. It was very sudden. I know how it feels to have somebody you love with you one day, and then all of a sudden, they’re gone. And you wish you had known when you woke up that morning that it was going to be the last time you woke up when your life was normal.”
“Whoa. That’s exactly how I used to feel.” His arm tightened a little.
“It’s so hard to move forward, even when people tell you that you should.”
“I know what you mean. People either expected me to keep breaking down or cheer up. It was either one or the other, all the time. They wouldn’t just leave me the hell alone and let me figure it out for myself.”
“I get it.” I thought about my mother again. I would have to go through that with her after she died. Nobody would know how to act around me. Everybody would either try to cheer me up or want to weep and wail on my shoulder—Mom had lots of friends. They would bring food, and they would want to share stories of her life. They would think it was helping me somehow, when I would just want to be alone with my thoughts and my memories. I had already gone through it once. I knew how my grieving process went.
I didn’t want to talk about that out loud, though, because I didn’t want to bring up the subject of the money again. We walked such a thin line together, Eric and I, and I didn’t want to disturb the delicate balance we had going on. The last thing I needed was for him to get angry with me and tell me to get the hell out of his bed.
He wouldn’t do it, though. I had a feeling about him. The man who saved me wouldn’t kick me out of bed. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me when I’d already come so close to being hurt. He only wanted to protect me and make me feel good and safe. He didn’t have to say it. I could feel it with every beat of his heart just next to my ear.
The rhythm of his heartbeat must have lulled me to sleep. Before I knew it, I was dreaming. In the dream, I was a princess, trapped in the uppermost tower of a castle. I wore a short dress and dangerously high heels, and I waited by the window for a prince to save me. I knew he was out there somewhere. The land stretched on for miles all around me.
Suddenly, a door burst open behind me. I turned around with a small scream, and my eyes widened when I saw the man from the van. He had long, greasy hair, and he carried a gun. He grinned at me like he wanted to tear me into pieces.
“The boss wants to see you,” he snarled, and he advanced toward me. I considered for one brief, horrified moment throwing myself from the tower rather than facing the boss he spoke of. I was desperate, and I screamed for help.
A figure filled the doorway. It was my prince, only he wasn’t wearing a suit of armor or princely epaulets. He wore a white t-shirt and black leather vest, jeans and work boots. His shoulder-length blond hair was swept back off his forehead. I swooned.
“Leave her alone,” he growled, and before the other man could react, Eric lunged at him.
I jumped up, scampering over to the bed to watch them from a safe distance. They tussled over the gun, Eric throwing punch after punch to get control of the weapon.
Finally, he did, and he pushed the villain from the window. I heard him hit the ground with a satisfying splat. I turned to Eric, my heart bursting with gratitude.
“How can I ever repay you?” I asked.
He didn’t reply in words. Instead, he walked over to the bed, pulling off his clothes as he did. My stomach fluttered in anticipation, and I leaned back against the pillows while he climbed on top of me.
I must have moaned in my sleep or something, because the next thing I knew, Eric was shaking me. “Michelle? You okay?”
I opened my eyes, blinking against the light from the lamp. “Oh. Sorry. I was dreaming.”
“I know. It sounded like a hell of a dream, too. You kept saying something about jumping out of the window.”
“Was that all I said?” I would die if I had said his name.
“No.” The way he said it left me wondering, though. I had a feeling I might have moaned something.
I made a decision. There was only one thing he could do for me, one thing I wanted more than anything. I needed it. I needed to feel him on top of me, inside me.
“Will you do me a favor?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
I looked him in the eye. “Make love to me?”