2014 – Santana
I fall asleep as soon as Maddox leaves, and remain that way until a hand touches my shoulder. I flutter my eyes open and look up to see Mack, standing over me. A small croak leaves my throat as a big smile appears on my lips. He leans down, brushing his scratchy lips over my forehead. “How you doin’, chante?”
I smile at his nickname for me, which means ‘heart’ and reach out, touching his cheek. “Chief,” I whisper. “You haven’t called me.”
He grins. He hates being called Chief, and I’m the only one he allows to get away with it without a fight. Mack is Native American, and one of the most breathtaking men I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, aside from Maddox.
He’s got these deep, dark brown eyes set in the most defined, chiseled face I’ve ever seen on a man. He has a square jaw, full lips, and dark olive skin that’s so silky, it’s hard not to reach out and touch it. His long, thick, dark brown hair flows halfway down his back.
He’s tall, lean but beautifully muscled, and doesn’t have one tattoo on his perfect skin. He’s a bad boy, though. More temperamental and aggressive than half the bikers in the club. Mack had a hard life, and was adopted out to Maddox’s family when he was only five. No one really knows his history.
Mack runs a hand over his jaw. “I’ve been busy.”
I pout at him, and he grins again, leaning down to kiss my lips. Mack and I have always had a good relationship. He was the solid rock when I was coming out of my drug haze. Maddox stayed by my side, night and day, but it was Mack who kicked my ass when I didn’t want to go on. He never showed me any sympathy; he just pulled me out and made me start again.
“Well,” I say when he pulls away. “I should announce to the world that I’ve been kissed by the maddest biker around.”
He snorts. “That wasn’t a kiss, chante, it was a fuckin’ peck.”
“Am I not good enough to get a real kiss from you, Chief?”
He laughs throatily. “Course you are, but my brother would cut my cock off and feed it to me in pieces.”
I laugh. “He would not.”
“Oh, he would.”
I reach out and take his hand. His rough fingers are covered with a whole lot of scars. “How have you been?”
He sits down beside me, letting me hang on to his hand. This is a surprise, because Mack doesn’t like to be touched a whole lot.
“Good. Decided to come back and hang around for a while. Sick of ridin’, and it seems like my little bro needs me here.”
“He’s a big boy.” I smirk. “He can take care of himself.”
Mack laughs. “No doubt. I need a break, all the same.”
“Are you staying with us?”
He nods. “For a while. Got my own place lined up.”
He lets go of my hand and takes me by the back of my head, bringing me close. He kisses my head, lingering for a long moment before standing. “But enough of that. There’s someone outside hangin’ to see you. Goin’ to be out there; you yell out if you need me.”
“Okay,” I say, watching him retreat.
A moment later, Ash enters. She stands at the door for a long time, her hands fumbling with each other, her eyes puffy and red. I watch her, knowing that it isn’t entirely her fault what happened between her, Krypt and Maddox. She takes a hesitant step forward.
“You can come in,” I say softly.
She walks over and sits on the seat beside my bed. We stare at each other for a long, long time.
“I’m so sorry, Santana” she says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t . . . I thought . . .”
I shake my head. “I made it clear I wasn’t interested in Maddox. I over-reacted, it hurt me, shocked me, and I’ve still got to come to terms with how I feel, but it wasn’t your fault. I told you I was seeing someone else. I told you Maddox meant nothing to me.”
She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I knew he cared about you, and I did it anyway.”
I smile sadly. “If he cared about me, Ash, he wouldn’t have done it in the first place. This . . . it isn’t on you—it’s on him. He’s the one holding back, and he’s the one dancing around whatever the hell is going on between us.”
“He’s dancing because he’s scared,” she says softly. “He’s scared to hurt you.”
I shrug. “Maybe, but he’s making his own choices. So am I. Us being apart, it’s for the best.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I nod. “Yes.”
She sighs and leans in, wrapping her fingers around mine. “You scared me, Santana. I thought . . .”
“I’m okay,” I assure her. “It’ll all be fine.”
~*~*~*~
Later that night, my phone buzzes beside me just as my eyes flutter closed. With a groan, I roll, and flip it open. I see a message from Alec. He is so sweet, so kind and real. He’s what most girls dream about, because of course, we don’t dream of falling in love with a bad boy. No, we dream of white picket fences, big houses and three children.
I wish I were most girls.
I dream of two things. A tall, dark man who I know is bad for me, and a man who can give me a white picket fence. There is a true battle between good and evil, and evil is so tempting. Maddox is my evil—he’s my dark place, yet I can’t seem to push myself away from him. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
Then there’s Alec.
Sweet, charming, and so damned perfect. He’s almost too perfect. I’ve tried to find flaws, but it would appear he has none. He’s just a genuine good guy. His message has a big smile breaking out across my face, so much so that it begins to hurt. He always knows how to make me feel better, and that’s something to hold onto.
A – Roses are red, violets are blue, but nothing is as beautiful or as sweet as you.
I want to roll my eyes, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face long enough to do that. Instead, I respond.
S – Are you always this charming to the girls you date?
A – Only the pretty ones.
S – What else do the pretty girls get?
A – You’ll just have to find out. How are you, sweetheart?
S – My leg is sore, but I’m fine. Just a few stitches.
A – Are you still getting out tomorrow? I am busting to see you.
S – Yep, tomorrow morning.
A – You up for lunch then?
I frown.
S – I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maddox won’t like if I go out as soon as I get home.
He takes a moment to respond. Alec knows about Maddox, about my past, and even though he agrees that Maddox was a good man for saving me, he doesn’t like him. He’s never met him, of course; I just don’t think he likes the idea that Maddox is the President of a massive MC club.
A – Dinner Saturday?
S – That sounds perfect. I need a break. Where shall we meet?
A – I think it’s about time I came and picked you up, don’t you?
I sigh, but he’s right. I can’t hide him from Maddox forever.
S – I think you’re right.
A – I’ll be at your house around 6.30.
S – See you then.
A – Goodnight, sweetheart.
I smile, and tuck my phone away. I think about how Maddox will react to Alec showing up. I can only pray he’s at the clubhouse, so I don’t have to put up with his wrath. Because there will be wrath. Maddox is protective of me in a way that comes across as obsessive to some. I’m used to it now.
I rub my eyes and decide to text Maddox, too.
S – Hey . . .
M – Really? Hey?
I sigh. God, I wish I could say all the things I want to say to Maddox. But I can’t. I just can’t. We’re a time bomb, slowly ticking together.
S – I just wanted to see how you were.
M – I’m fine. Goin’ to be there in ten.
S – You’re coming to see me?
M – Don’t act like that shocks you. Mack said you wanted to shower.
S – You might not be allowed in. It’s getting late.
M – I’ll get in.
I sigh, and put the phone on the table beside the bed. He’ll get in, all right. I lie back against the pillows and close my eyes, waiting. I must drift off, because I feel a hand against my cheek what seems like only seconds later. I open my eyes, and Maddox is staring down at me.
“Just droppin’ your clothes off.”
“I . . . ah . . . thanks.”
He tilts his head to the side. God, he’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I hate that any man would look this good. His long, dark hair falls down over his shoulders, so thick and beautiful. He’s built like a statue. His muscles are big and hard. His chest, which I’ve had the pleasure of seeing many times, is defined, and runs perfectly down to his eight-pack.
Yeah, the man has the full eight-pack of love bumps. Then there’s that V . . . oh boy. He’s got a chest full of tattoos, even some running down his belly. The one I hate is across his back. I hate it because it’s my name, Santana in big, black, angry letters.
“Maddox,” I whisper.
He leans in closer. “Mmmm.”
“I’m safe . . . right?”
He nods. “Never let anything happen to you, Tana. You know that.”
“So, I can . . . go out once I get home?”
He tilts his head to the side, studying me. “Depends.”
“On?”
“You can go out, with the protection of the guys or me.”
I close my eyes. “Maddox-” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Ain’t givin’ you a choice. I can’t keep you housebound, but I sure as shit ain’t lettin’ you out alone. You can argue, but it’ll do you no fuckin’ good.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “Fine.”
“You wanna tell me why you’re askin’ that question?”
“I, ah, I want to go out with a friend Saturday night. That’s all.”
“You’re a bad fuckin’ liar. Now tell me the damn truth.”
I sigh and turn to him, our eyes meeting. “I’m . . . I’m seeing someone, Maddox.”
I’ve never seen a man change from relaxed to stiff so quickly in my life. His entire body jerks, and his shoulders straighten. His face hardens, and I watch in shock as his mouth forms a hard line. Oh shit.
“It’s nothing serious,” I say quickly. I don’t know why I need to justify my actions, but his look . . . it’s hurting me. “I just wanted you to know, considering all that’s happened.”
He proceeds to hurt me more when he turns without another word and disappears out of the room. I call out for him, but he doesn’t come back in. I wait. I wait, and I wait. But I know he’s gone.
Well shit.