Chapter 18
Esme was in the process of reading about the five stages of grief when a blonde woman with evergreen colored eyes came breezing into the clubhouse.
“Excuse me, have you seen Rayna anywhere?,” She asked.
Esme took note of the scrubs she was wearing, and the worried expression on her face. She looked flustered.
Esme slowly moved to stand as she glanced around the clubhouse.
“No, is everything okay? Last I knew, her and Fury were catching lunch.”
The woman stuck her hand out.
“Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush. I’m Laura.”
She smiled as Esme shook her hand.
“Esmeralda Quinn, nice to meet you. You should check Fury’s room.”
Laura nodded before she sent Esme a nice wave over her shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, Esmeralda!”
“Nice to meet you, too!”
Esmeralda slowly sat back down in her chair, her fingers roaming over the screen of her cell phone.
Five stages of Grief…
Denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and finally…acceptance.
Esme’s head fell back against the chair she was curled up in as she thought about her own grieving process…she’d breezed through denial, anger, and depression with flying colors. Bargaining? She knew that not everyone experienced all five stages, she certainly had experienced most of them…but she was finally understanding that there was nothing left to bargain with. She had no aces up her sleeve, nothing she could bargain with…
Chris was dead.
There wasn’t any changing that.
The sun shone through the window, highlighting a hundred little flecks of dust, and for a second the warmth made her feel like Chris was right there with her, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. This time Esme didn't feel sadness at the thought, she felt happiness. He was in a better place no doubt, so why had she spent so long fighting the inevitable?
Acceptance.
It was high time for her to accept what was happening; it’d been two weeks since Prettyboy had laid his hands on her body, since he’d taken her and shown her that there was life after death. Every night they spent together, curled up in each other’s arms and talking about…everything. Esme hadn’t felt that free in a long time, and she owed it to Damon Michael. She owed him a lot, but she knew he'd never take anything from her that she wasn't willing to give him.
He’d proven that ten times over.
Most nights he would talk to her for as long as he could with that deep, raspy voice of his playing havoc on her heart and her body. Prettyboy never touched her unless he knew she wanted it, and hello, she wanted it! But, something was holding him back; something was stopping him from taking her body again and no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't figure out what that was.
As she scrolled through more information about grief and grieving, a large figure ambled towards her and sat down in the chair directly across from her. Esme noticed that Limit was wearing long sleeves even though it was nearly a hundred degrees outside, but he didn't even seem to be sweating.
His silver eyes had her pinned to her chair as he stared at her. It took three scrolls and a couple of long blinks before she finally worked up the courage to look up at him.
“Why are you…watching me?,” She asked.
Limit only smiled, something that made her pause. Limit could be one scary fucker, and it was obvious that he was well aware of that fact.
His gaze was intent as he watched her; he reminded Esme of a predator on the hunt, but she wasn't so sure he meant to hunt her.
“Prettyboy’s a good man.”
Here we go.
The protective brother speech…
“I’m aware,” She said warily.
Limit scratched the scruff growing on his chin, his fingers moving deftly before they disappeared under the table.
“Are you?”
Esme’s eyes narrowed before she slowly set her phone down onto the table separating them.
“Yeah, I’d like to think so. Why? Do you believe otherwise?,” She asked.
Limit smiled again, but this time it reached his eyes.
“You’re a real spit fire, ya know that? Wasn’t something I expected out of you, that's for sure.”
“And why’s that?”
“I may not be a great conversationalist, but I’m damn good at observation. You’re soft, Esmeralda Quinn.”
She wasn’t certain she should take that as a compliment- not when Limit, the grumpy ass giant, said it- but she didn't argue with him.
“What does that have to do with Prettyboy?”
He slapped his large palms onto the table top.
“Everything, sweetheart. He needs someone like you, and I know you need someone like him.”
Esme’s gaze fell to the his hands, surveyed his long, tanned fingers.
“Why do you say that?”
“I told you, I’m good at observing.”
Esme lifted her eyes to meet his and cleared her throat nervously, her small fingers tucking her hair back behind her ears as she tried to find the words to say.
“Will you just say what you came over here to say?,” She finally demanded.
Limit chuckled, a rough sound that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge.
He really was an attractive man, fuck all of the Seven Deadlies were. Yet, there was something about Limit that was downright lethal, something that made her instinctually avoid him.
His expression was alight with mirth when he finally nodded.
“Okay, Esmeralda Quinn. I couldn't help but notice that you've been sittin’ in here all morning by yourself when your man’s been outside all by his lonesome. Have you changed your mind already?”
Feeling like she’d been slapped, she angrily slid her phone across the table towards him.
Limit didn't say a word as he lifted the phone towards his face and unlocked the screen.
As soon as he saw what she’d been busy reading all morning his expression softened and he swore under his breath.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business, but I was in here trying to make sure I was ready to give your brother what he deserves.”
Limit’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he assessed her.
“What he deserves?”
“Oh, please. Don't play dumb with me, darlin’. The fact that you’re sitting across from me questioning my intentions tells me that you too think he deserves the fuckin’ world.”
Limit’s grin was back.
“And what do you deserve?”
Esme fingered the phone on the table.
“Happiness. And, he makes me happy, okay?”
Limit’s entire expression changed before he straightened in his chair, his curiosity obviously appeased.
“Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it?”
Limit stood, stretching his large arms over his head as he chuckled again. Esme wanted to punch him right in the peener, but she just barely managed to refrain from doing so. Limit glanced at her from his standing position and seemed to realize what was running through her mind, because he casually laid his hands over the apex of his thighs.
With a soft sigh, he approached her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I wasn’t questioning your loyalty, Esme. I know you’re a good woman.”
“Yeah? And how do you know that?,” She wondered.
Limit smiled at her again, but this time it was riddled with sadness, “Because you stayed loyal to Chris’s memory. Lots of women out there won’t stay loyal to a man like that, even if he’s livin’ and breathin’.”
“Then what did you want to know?”
Limit shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting easily.
“If you care about him as much as he cares about you,” He said truthfully.
Esme blinked.
“And do I?”
“I guess that’s something you should be askin’ your man now, isn’t it?”
Esme snorted, but Limit seemed to be completely serious.
He followed that response with a soft pat to her shoulder.
His words made Esme’s heart stall, because it was obvious he was speaking from experience.
Someone hurt Limit?
She supposed it was wrong to judge a book by it’s cover, but she hadn't really thought that anything could fell a man like Limit…
Except, maybe a woman.
A broken heart is the worst feeling in the world, at least in Esme’s eyes. It came in many forms, it lasted for what seemed like forever, and it could disappear as quickly as it arrived.
Much like love and life and death, heartbreak was impossible to avoid.
As her eyes traced Limit’s steps, the blonde from earlier came back into the room. Her eyes were puffy and red, an obvious sign that she’d been crying. Esme rose to her feet as Laura neared her.
“Are you okay?”
Laura waved her off, as if she were embarrassed at being seen with tears in her eyes.
Esme knew all about that, seeing as she’d been crying for the better half of six months by now.
“I’m okay I just- Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thanks for asking,” Laura said with a small smile.
Esme nodded, returning the gesture as she moved to sit down again- and then Rayna came into the room, her blue eyes wide and her cheeks wet. Fury wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but that didn't mean he wasn't around.
“Rayna? What’s going on, are you okay?”
Rayna avoided her curious gaze as Laura turned towards her.
“I have more patients tonight, I have to get going…”
Rayna nodded her head jerkily, her tears still falling.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll get in touch with you soon,” Rayna said. Laura hugged her, something that had Rayna flinching.
I wonder what that’s about…?
Laura rushed towards the exit, her blonde hair swinging.
Rayna buried her face in her hands then, her shoulders sagging.
Esme almost fell out of her chair in her rush to get to Rayna.
“Darlin’? Are you okay?”
Obviously she wasn't okay, but Esme didn't know what else to do.
Rayna shook her head.
“Here, come sit down. Tell me what’s got you cryin’,” Esme said softly.
Rayna didn't fight her as Esme eased her into the chair Limit had recently vacated. Her blonde hair fell into her eyes as Esme kneeled in front of her.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” She whispered.
Rayna’s shoulders heaved as her face fell, her tears sticky and bright as they glinted in the sunlight.
“Axel told you I was shot, right?”
Esme frowned as she began to understand the gravity of what Rayna was about to tell her.
“He did.”
“Well, there was a lot of damage done to my uterus when I was shot. Fury and I have been thinking about having a baby, but it turns out…we can’t,” Rayna cried.
Esme wrapped her arms around Rayna as she pulled her close.
“I’m so sorry,” Esme said.
Rayna shrugged, her skinny shoulders jarring Esme. To Esme’s surprise, Rayna cuddled closer to her. Esme wasn't used to physical affection, and she knew that Rayna wasn't either, but neither woman wanted to let go of one another.
“I just feel like I’ve failed him, ya know? It’s the one thing I’m supposed to be able to give him, and I can’t even do that!”
Esme tsked as she ran a hand through Rayna's hair.
“Don’t talk like that, darlin’. From what I was told, you took that slug savin’ your old man. I bet if you ask him, he’d tell you he’d rather have you, even if it means you can’t carry a baby.”
Rayna nodded, but Esme knew her words were only a small comfort to her.
She had no idea how to comfort someone going through what Rayna and Fury were going through.
“I’m really sorry, Rayna. Did she tell you if Fury is able to have children?”
Rayna sniffed as she nodded her head yes.
“His sperm count was great, and I can still produce viable eggs…I just can't physically carry the baby,” She said forlornly. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were mottled with red as Esme watched her.
“Well, maybe you can adopt? Or get a surrogate?”
Rayna nodded immediately.
“Fury told me we’ll do whatever it takes, I just…what if he comes to resent me one day?,” Rayna asked.
Esme shook her head even though Rayna couldn't see it.
“No, darlin’. Fury is with you ’til the end, Rayna. That man worships you.”
“He’s so good to me.”
Esme squeezed Rayna tightly.
“You deserve it,” She assured.
Rayna glanced up at her, her distress evident.
“Thank you for saying that, Esme. I really needed to hear it,” Rayna choked out.
“No trouble at all.”
Rayna closed her eyes and Esme did her best to calm her as she told her about her Fury’s appointment with Laura.
“She told us that she can help us move forward with whatever option we choose, but…it just doesn't feel real to me. I always thought I’d be able to have my own babies one day,” Rayna said.
“I know it seems kind of hopeless right now, but remember where you were six months ago, darlin’. Everything seemed hopeless then too, and you made it through it.”
Rayna was smiling as she sat up straight and looked Esme in her eyes.
“When did you become so wise?”
Esme chuckled and shrugged, her upturned palms rising.
“When my husband died and I had to start my entire life all over again. You have an entire clubhouse filled with people who love you and who will be there for you,” Esme told her kindly.
Rayna’s smile fell and she pushed some of Esme’s hair out of her eyes.
“You have a family here, too. I know you said your folks are dead and gone, and I know Axel will welcome you back to his clubhouse at any time…but if you wanted to stay here, Ox wouldn't mind having you around,” Rayna said.
“I certainly wouldn't mind havin’ her around. She’s food for the eyes,” Green said.
Both women jumped, scowling in his direction.
He was grinning like a mad man, Slayer standing right beside him. They were both sporting white t-shirts with elaborate depictions of sexual positions on them. Esme choked out a laugh when she realized what she was looking at.
“Is that a couple doing it doggy style?,” She gasped.
Green nodded proudly.
“Sure is. I figured I should let women know what they’re getting into, ya know? Plus, it weeds out the boring women from the exciting ones. Women who like wearing boring beige and eating only vanilla ice cream for instance,” Green said.
Esme’s mouth fell open as Slayer and Rayna began to laugh.
“I’ll have you know that my dress design was perfect for that color!”
Green rolled his eyes.
“I’m positive Prettyboy would prefer you in something just a tiny bit more lively, Esme.”
Before Esme could defend herself she felt someone’s mouth connect with the shell of her ear.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Prettyboy’s breathy words had her entire body coming alive beneath his touch.
Jesus, I’m so horny.
“Hi,” She squeaked.
“I like Esme in whatever she wears, thank you very much.”
Prettyboy sent a glare Green’s way.
“Okay, okay, jeez. I was just trying to help you out,” He pouted.
Slayer spoke up, his blonde hair wrapped around one of his fingers.
They’re like teenage girls.
Emotionally stunted teenage girls!
“You look pretty all the time, Esmeralda Quinn.”
Prettyboy scoffed.
“Whatever, we got church. Let’s get going.”
Green and Slayer both left the room, heading in the direction where they knew Ox would be waiting for them.
“Hey, a few of us were thinkin’ of hitting up a bar tonight, would you wanna come?”
Prettyboy’s question threw her off guard, so she looked to Rayna for guidance.
“Fury and I have plans, baby. You should go.”
“Come on, beautiful. Come out and have fun with me tonight,” He said.
Esme knew she couldn't resist him.
What’s the point of even pretending like I can?
“Sounds fun to me,” Esme said.
He grinned, the scarred part of his face making his smile slightly crooked. Esme nudged him under the chin as he came in close for a gentle kiss on the lips.
“See you later,” He said.
She waved him off, jumping when Rayna squealed.
“My God, you two are fuckin’ adorable.”
Esme started to laugh when Rayna stood, her small frame blocking the incoming sunlight from the window for a second.
“Thanks for sitting with me, Esme. I really needed it.”
Esme nodded fervently, her black hair swinging.
“Of course! I’m sorry this is happening to you…but if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
Rayna’s lips lifted as she saw a familiar figure moving towards the clubhouse.
“I love that man,” She said.
Esme wanted a love like Rayna and Fury.
She wanted to need someone, to be so close to someone that she couldn't tell where she ended and they began.
Prettyboy’s a good man.
I’m falling in love with him…
The truth was a sobering thought, a shocking testament to her true feelings for him; she was falling for him! How the hell that had happened, she didn't know.
One moment he was just there, and the next he was…everywhere. Everywhere she looked, she looked for him. He was the first thing she thought about in the morning. He was the last face she sought out before she closed her eyes at night. His voice, his touch, the way he handled her?
Shit, even though she knew Chris had loved her, what Prettyboy offered her was much different.
Chris had been all fun and games and laughter, and she’d loved him, yes…
But, Prettyboy?
If she let him, he could completely detonate her. He could destroy her. He could disassemble her completely, and if he did that, she'd never be the same.
All she had to do was convince herself that he wouldn't hurt her- that he couldn't hurt her- and she’d be okay.
Rayna was right.
Esme was finally, finally, okay.