Chapter Twenty-Three
Cuss woke with a throbbing headache. Parting his eyes, his gaze landed on the white walls of his bedroom at the compound. Slowly, flashbacks bombarded him.
He drank a lot. Though that, he didn’t need to remember. The pounding migraine and the smell of alcohol drifting out of his pores was clue enough.
Cuss remembered, remembered Tiffany in his room, remembered her crying, shaking, and pale. He remembered why, too. He said horrible things to her, and the things he accused her of, worse.
Is he mine?
Did you fuck him?
He remembered what she said when she pleaded with him. Had he been sober then, he would’ve believed her, believed every word because of the emotion in her voice, but especially because she was right. She could’ve left, could’ve refused to have his kid. Instead, she stayed. He should’ve believed her because he knew her, knew she was good, sweet, and kind. She’d never betray anyone, least of all him. Still, he doubted her, convinced himself she’d double-crossed him without even asking her.
Bile rising with the knowledge of what a complete asshole he’d been, he swallowed the urge to puke. The throbbing in his head strengthened with the memories then compounded with a final one. He’d handcuffed her to his bed. He tried to remember past that but couldn’t. Probably blacked out.
He shifted his head. Empty bed. The handcuffs and keys lay on his nightstand. Of course, she found the key, uncuffed herself, and got the hell out of there. After the fucked shit he said and did, why wouldn’t she?
He released a heavy breath, ran his hands through his hair then fisted his palms, pulling the strands in frustration.
Would he ever win her back? Did he even deserve the chance? Why was he such an asshole? Not the first time. It happened every time he thought he was losing her because he was terrified of even the thought—his life without her, but the reason didn’t matter. It didn’t make it right. She deserved the best. He sure as hell wasn’t that, not even close. Knowing it, he had to try to win her back. She had his kid inside her. He wanted his kid to have both parents, but most importantly, he loved her more than life itself and needed to do everything in his power to show her that.
A knock sounded on his door. He cursed, sat up, and strode to it. Parting it, he met Blaze’s gaze.
“Shower, dress, you and me got somewhere to be.”
Firm shake of his head made the headache blinding. “Not today.”
Blaze’s gaze hardened. “Trust me when I say you’re gonna wanna come.”
Through gritted teeth, he reiterated, “Not today—”
“Found out where the ex is staying. You want the truth? Gotta talk to him.”
Shit. Blaze, his brother, was an amazing friend going through all that trouble for him. Heart racing, he grabbed his cut draped over the armoire intent on heading out the door.
Blaze put a hand on his chest. “Brother, we got time, not much, but enough. You need to shower. You smell like you look, and I know you don’t want the ex seeing you like that.”
Valid point. Cuss rushed into his bathroom, taking his clothes off en route, and hopped into the shower. Showered and dressed, he headed downstairs. Though he needed a shave bad, he skipped it. Ten minutes later, he knocked on the ex’s hotel suite.
The ex parted the door a minute later, expressionless. “Say what you came to say, quick. I have a flight to catch.”
The ex then turned and strode further into the room, leaving the door parted for Cuss and Blaze, proving once again, Tiff’s former man wasn’t afraid of much. Anyone else would’ve been scared shitless to get a visit from two Hell Ryders bikers. Anyone else would’ve been afraid to turn their backs on them but not the ex. He had balls.
Cuss knew this for some time, yet in that instant, all it did—infuriate him. The ex could’ve protected Tiff just fine. She didn’t need him.
Cuss waited for the ex to face him. “She’s carrying my kid.” For some reason, it was the first thing he said.
A shadow of a smile crossed the ex’s face. “Congrats.”
“Don’t look surprised.”
“She told me.”
Shit. When? Last night or before? Had they kept in touch? He shouldn’t show how much hearing that affected him, but he couldn’t help it. He fisted his hands tightly. Before he could ask what he wanted to know, the ex spoke.
“She told me last night. I knew the moment I saw her something was off.” The ex looked away and shook his head. “No, not off. Just not what I thought I’d find.”
His jaw went hard. “Care to explain.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, the ex elaborated. “The day before yesterday, I got a call from her parents. They told me she was single and implied she regretted ending our relationship. I booked a flight for the next day and flew out to see her, thinking we’d…”
He shrugged. “I could tell from the look on her face that wasn’t the case. She gave me that look once before, the night she ended things between us, so she didn’t have to say a word for me to know her parents lied.”
The ex uncrossed his arms. “She wasn’t rude because it’s not in her nature.”
This, Cuss knew. And still, it hadn’t stopped him from jumping to conclusions, from thinking the worst.
“She hugged me hello, sat, and enjoyed a meal. Then I walked her to her car. I asked her if she was happy. She said she was then told me she’d been seeing you for a while and was pregnant. I congratulated her and wished her the best then I left.”
“I’ve always loved her.” He didn’t know why he said that either. True, but not the ex’s business.
“Not something you hid. Thought on that a lot, and I figured you were the reason why it never worked out between her and me.”
Was the ex lying? How could he tell when Cuss barely knew it himself then?
“Shouldn’t be surprised. Not a person that day didn’t see it. She fell for you before me, and she never let go. I never stood a chance.”
Chest tightening, his stomach turned. Her ex could tell how much she loved him while he hadn’t been able to. Instead, he doubted her and said and done fucked shit.
Maybe Cuss should stand aside, let the ex have her. The man loved her, had always loved her. He could protect and care for her. He was the better man. She deserved the best, and the best for her was a man like her ex.
Cuss thought it for a spilt second, fooling himself into thinking he could let her go. Then he realized if Tiff wanted him, there was no way he’d push her away. Just like there was no doubt, he’d fight to get her back.
“Are we done?”
Cuss nodded. The ex grabbed a carry on then strode out of the room.
At the threshold, the ex stopped and looked at him over his shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Too late.
****
Tiffany checked her phone for the hundredth time that day. No reason to, it hadn’t rung or vibrated. Looking at the screen, she confirmed no calls, no texts.
Since before they’d become an item, Thomas called her in the mornings and texted her throughout the day. He never went more than a few hours without. Today, he had. As the hours drifted without hearing from him, she knew her prayer hadn’t been answered. He hadn’t forgotten he broke up with her.
She went into her text messages, pulled up Thomas’s thread, and reread the last text.
You need me, I’m there.
Always.
Love you, baby girl.
He’d sent it yesterday moments after she’d left to meet her parents. He hadn’t had the need to say it. She knew he wanted more than anything to be there, knew he hadn’t wanted her to face her parents alone. They fought about it just last week. Hormonal, she’d cried a lot. He relented but only because he wanted her to stop crying. Now, how she wished he hadn’t relented. Everything would’ve turned out so different.
In a gloom after work, she drove to her parents’ house.
She strolled inside and didn’t have to look far for them. Both of them were in the formal living room, her father on the couch by the fire reading a newspaper, her mother on the chaise reading a book. The moment she walked in, they gave her their full attention.
Without taking a seat herself, she said, “I’m fourteen weeks pregnant. It’s Thomas’s, and I’m keeping the baby.” Needing to get to Thomas, she meant to blurt it. She wanted to get it over with, no, needed to.
When neither parent spoke, she repeated it.
Then the screaming began, screaming on her father’s part. Her mother got pale, so pale she looked about ready to pass out. She didn’t pass out. She also didn’t say a word. Among the things her father screamed—an ultimatum. She either left Thomas, or she lost her trust fund.
She chose Thomas, knowing technically they weren’t together, knowing there was a chance he wouldn’t want her back.
Choosing Thomas only made her mother paler and her father louder. Face beet red, a vein in his neck pulsing, he told her she needed to find a place to live since he’d been paying half her rent without her knowledge. When she’d moved to Wadden after college, she insisted on renting an apartment she could afford. Her father had gone behind her back and arranged to pay what she couldn’t afford in advance every month. He signed a lease with the correct rent then gave her a fake. He also mentioned she should leave her leased BMW. She couldn’t afford it and a new place on her salary.
Having no choice, Tiffany called Allie and asked for a favor, pick her up and drop her off at the compound. Allie obliged and didn’t ask questions. Though Tiffany was sure Allie knew something was up and must’ve sensed Tiffany wasn’t ready to talk since Allie did tell her, she was there for her if she needed her or when she needed her.
Once at the compound, she searched for Thomas. When she bumped into Blaze, she asked where he was, and he informed her Thomas had been gone all day.
She nodded. With her heart lodged in her throat, she did the only thing she could do—wait.
****
For hours, Cuss waited outside Tiffany’s apartment. He had a key, could easily wait inside, but he wanted to know the minute she arrived, and he’d only know that if he waited outside.
While paying the ex a visit, for a spilt moment, he thought about standing aside, letting her ex have her. He was an idiot to think it. Now more than ever, especially after what he did to her last night, he knew he wasn’t the better man, but he was the man who couldn’t live without her, so he had to win her back.
To win her, he needed to talk to her. He thought about showing up at her work but didn’t know how she’d react seeing him there, and he didn’t want to create a scene. Instead, he opted for waiting outside her apartment.
He hadn’t called or texted her all day, giving her time and knowing what he had to say couldn’t be said via call or text. She hadn’t called or texted him either. It meant he hadn’t heard from her for close to a day. He hadn’t gone so long since that week he’d shut her out. Not hearing from her, not knowing whether she was okay made him feel sick to his stomach. Worse, the hollow ache in the center of his chest, an ache he knew he’d have to live with for the rest of his life if she didn’t forgive him.
Rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans, he went over in his mind again the many places she could be. She should’ve been home by now. No, she should’ve been home two hours ago. It only meant one thing. She was avoiding him. He couldn’t blame her. All the fucked shit he said and did, he deserved much worse. It didn’t bode well for him and would make it that much harder to win her back.
His phone rang. He picked it up immediately without sparing a glance at the caller ID. “Cuss.”
“Your girl’s here.” Blaze.
His gaze flew to the gauges on his bike. “Where?”
“At the garage. Probably been here for a bit. She asked me where you were.”
All this time, she’d been waiting for him? He couldn’t believe it.
“Don’t tell her you talked to me. Be there in a few.”
Cuss hung up, revved his bike, and rode off. In minutes, he drove up to the front lot at the garage. Tiffany, brows drawn, hands pressed against her stomach, stood just outside the door leading into the office. Wearing a pair of jeans that fit her like a glove, a loose, emerald green blouse, and matching flats, her chocolate colored hair spilled around her beautiful face.
When her pained stare met his, the ache in his chest compounded. He held her gaze, closed the distance between them, running the words through his mind, hoping he picked the right ones.
She shook her head. “Don’t say it, Thomas. If you’re going to repeat what you did last night, don’t. I can’t hear it again.”
“I—”
“No,” she snapped, her voice rising. “No, you’re not letting me go because I’m not letting you let me go.” She shut her eyes for a brief moment then parted them and met his. “I love you, and I want to be with you.”
His chance to beg for forgiveness like she deserved, and it seemed she didn’t want or need an apology, but he owed it to her. Still, he couldn’t form the words.
She took his silence as the need for an explanation. “I’m sorry about Mark being there last night. You have to believe I didn’t know he would be. My parents invited him. I know I should’ve left… I know I should’ve told my parents, but Mark was there. He’s always been good to me, and he cares about me, and yes, I care about him too, not the way he cares about me, not even close.”
She expelled a breath. “I’ve hurt him, and I didn’t want to hurt him again… I know you don’t like him, but honestly, Thomas, if I loved him, if I wanted to be with him, why wouldn’t I be? I’m with you because I want to be. I love you because I’ve always loved you.”
Her eyes watered. “We are who we chose to be. I can be the rich girl who marries a rich guy she doesn’t love and never works a day in her life, or I can be with the man I love and work at a daycare because it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I chose you. I chose us.”
That feeling of utter fulfillment hit him square in the chest. He knew he didn’t deserve her, the girl who got more beautiful every day. She further proved it by choosing to stay when she had every reason to leave.
Cuss meant to tell her how much he loved her, but still, he couldn’t find his voice. Instead, he gripped her hand, tugged her toward him until her chest touched his. He then laced his fingers through her hair and slid his hand to cup the back of her head. Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled, and the smell of her perfume filled his lungs. Only then did he speak.
“I’m so sorry, baby girl, for…everything.”
Pulling away, she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “W-what?”
“I was an asshole, and I’m sorry, Tiff, for all the fucked shit I said and did. I’m sorry for screaming at you, not believing you, doubting you. I’m sorry for handcuffing you to the bed. I’m ashamed I thought for even a second you’d ever betray me, that the kid growing inside you ain’t mine.”
She released a breath and smiled softly. “You were drunk, and you didn’t keep me handcuffed for long, just a minute or two.”
A relief to hear. “Was shit-faced, but it doesn’t make it right. Everything I said and did was fucked. You don’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”
Shaking her head softly, she smiled wider. “Not everything you said was fucked.” The curse sounding forced.
His gaze pierced hers.
Hers softened. “You said some awful things and they hurt, but you also said that you love me so much, you couldn’t hate me and you said it thinking I’d cheated.” Her hand squeezed his. “You said you love me so much, you had to let me go, so I could be happy even if it wasn’t with you. You said you’ve loved me that much since the first day you saw me, and you said that day you made me yours, and that I’d always be yours even if I was with someone else…” As she spoke, the emotion clear in her tone filled her eyes.
He couldn’t remember saying it, but he didn’t doubt it. All of it was the truth. A rush of warmth clogged his throat.
He kissed her firmly on the lips then broke away and led her to his bike. As he did this, he buried his hand in his pocket and clutched a small box.
He had something to show her, and it couldn’t wait.
****
Holding Thomas close, the wind blowing her hair every which way, she watched the world fly by, thinking she needed to get all the riding she could get in before she’d be too big.
Before she knew it, the ride was over. Thomas drove up to a house, parked in the circular drive, and hopped off. Putting one hand at each of her hips, he helped her off. He then laced his fingers through hers and led her toward the home, a yellow, two-story house with a large front porch.
She tugged her arm, in doing so pulling his. “Thomas?”
He faced her, grinning.
“We’re not going to break in, are we?”
He chuckled, lifted his hand in her face flashing a set of keys. “Ain’t breaking in when I got the keys, baby girl.”
“Right.”
They climbed a series of steps. He unlocked the door, headed inside, and took her on a tour of the home.
The first floor was spacious and open-concept. White tile floors throughout, the living room sat toward the back end of the home, large windows on the back wall gave clear view of the deck and pool outside. The kitchen was a thing of beauty, large, white cabinets, new stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, and an island in the middle. Situated beside it, the dining room. A hallway led to a two-car garage, bathroom, and a room which could very well be used as an office. The second floor had two baths and three more bedrooms. The master bedroom had an en-suite bathroom, two walk-in closets, and a balcony facing the yard. It was the only room not completely empty. An inflatable mattress sat in the middle, sheets stacked on top. Last, he took her to the backyard. A wooden deck led to a large pool. The rest of the huge backyard shrouded in trees and shrubbery.
Thomas came up from behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and rested them on her lower abdomen. He did that more and more frequently since he found out she was pregnant. “Like it?”
Enjoying the feel of him, loving the way his hands now rubbed her belly, she nodded.
He grabbed her hand and spun her slowly until she faced him. “Glad you like it, baby girl, ’cause I bought it for us.”
Her lips parted. A house? He bought them a house? Renting it, she would’ve expected, but he bought it? “W-what?”
He grinned. “I bought it for us. Signed the papers yesterday.”
Oh, God. He bought it, a house, for them.
Before she could fully digest this, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black box. “It’s under my name, but once we get married, won’t matter. It’ll be ours.”
Her jaw dropped. Did he say “married?” When? Where? They’d never talked about marriage, not once. “M-married?”
He kneeled then opened the box, revealing a beautiful, round, solitary diamond ring. She gasped. Her hand went to her chest, over her heart, now pounding against her fingertips.
“Loved you for a long time, Tiff.”
Her wet gaze met his.
“Know I can be an asshole. I hope you know that’s only ’cause I’m terrified of losing you. It doesn’t make it right. I know, and I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to change, making it up to you, and making you happy. All you gotta do is say ‘yes.’”
She didn’t hesitate a split second. “Yes.”
Thomas smiled and stood. Her head snapped up. He grabbed her hand and slid the ring on her finger. He then cupped her cheeks and kissed her. As he did, she shut her eyes tightly and snaked her arms around his waist, savoring the feeling warming her soul.
“I’ll make you happy, baby girl. I promise,” he whispered against her lips.
“You already have.”
His gaze softened. He kissed her deep, carried her inside, up the stairs, and made love to her on the inflatable mattress in their bedroom.
It was perfect.