Chapter Twenty
Gage
She looks at me, and there’s no smile of welcome, or even surprise that I’m there. A chill skates along my arms. She looks as though she hates me.
“Amelia.” My voice is rough. I step over Abbott, but instead of meeting me halfway, she backs up. Now I’m here I don’t have the first clue what to say. “You okay?”
Her lip curls, and her disdain is like a slap to the face. “Well, sure. I’m fine. How’re you?”
Abbott clutches my boot, and I kick him off. The gut wrenching fear that he might’ve attacked her combines with the flood of relief that she’s the one still standing, and anger boils to the surface. “Fuck it, Amelia. What’re you doing here? He could’ve hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
I suck in a harsh breath and flex my fists. She told me the night we met that she fought dirty, and I laughed at her, but she wasn’t pissing around. And even though I want to drag her into my arms and give her hell for putting herself in danger, I love how she put Abbott in his place without a second’s hesitation. My girl doesn’t take shit from anyone, and that’s the way it should be.
Fuck, did I just think the L word?
I let out a cracked groan. It’s only a fucking word.
“Let’s get out of here.” I hold out my hand and wait for her to come to me. She glances at my fingers as though she’s no idea what I’m doing. “Baby, come on.” I can’t help the thread of impatience, because why’s she holding back? We need to get out of this shithole. I can’t even think beyond that.
Instead of taking my hand, she folds her arms. “I’m not your baby.” There’s a hollow note in her voice that hits me right in the gut. “That’s over, remember?”
I don’t want to discuss it. Any of it. Definitely not here with Abbott as a witness. But she obviously wants more from me before she’s willing to move.
“It’s not over.” What happened ten years ago isn’t her fault or mine. We’ll deal with it. And so will my brothers.
“Why? Are you after payback now, so you can make me sorry for trying to cross you? Don’t bother. I already am.”
My head’s still pounding from last night, and it takes longer than it should before I get her meaning. For fuck’s sake. Is this any time to hold a grudge?
“Forget what I said. You didn’t know what you were doing. I get that now.”
Instead of accepting my word she looks as though I just slapped her face. Christ, what is it with chicks? How much clearer does she want me to be?
“Don’t treat me like an idiot, you patronizing jerk. You didn’t believe me yesterday. So what’s changed?”
For a second, I’m struck speechless. It’s not only because no one talks to a Bastard the way she does. Hell, it might be twisted, but I’ve always liked the way she says what she thinks, even if I’d crush anyone else who dared say anything like that to me.
It’s because of the venom behind her words. As though she’s not saying it for show or whatever, but she means it.
“Nothing’s changed.” That’s not true, since everything’s changed, but fuck if I know what she wants from me. Right now, I’d say anything to get us out of here.
“Sure.” She rakes her gaze over me, and not in a good way. “It doesn’t matter what a piece of pussy says, does it? But hear it from a brother, even one as pitiful as Rex Abbott, and you’re all over it, aren’t you?”
What the fuck is she talking about? I came here because I believed her and wanted to beat the truth from Abbott. And he isn’t, and has never been, my brother. Since I’ve no idea how to explain all that shit, I focus on the other stupid thing she said.
“You’re not a piece of pussy.” Even saying it out loud pisses me off, and I glare at her.
“No, that’s right. I’m Hank Crane’s daughter. Guilty as charged, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.”
This is crazy. I’m not discussing it anymore. I just need to get her out of here and back home. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” That should do it, right?
“Wow.” There’s a faint tremor in her voice that rips me open. Why’s she making such a big fucking deal of this? “Thanks. So, what’re you forgiving, exactly? That I’m Hank Crane’s daughter, or the fact I wanted revenge?”
My head’s killing me, and it’s not all due to my hangover anymore. “Whatever, I don’t care. Just drop it, okay?”
“Uh huh.” She nods like she agrees with me, but I’m not fooled. “It’d be so much easier if I was a guy, wouldn’t it? We could’ve just kicked each other to a pulp years ago, gotten our need for vengeance out of our systems. But because I’m a girl, you can’t hack it. Because when it really counts, you’ll always trust a brother’s word more than mine.”
Now she’s pissing me off. “You’re talking shit. I’ve had enough.” I go to grab her arm but she manages to evade me, which does nothing to improve my temper. “Don’t push it, Amelia.”
“Why, what’ll you do?” Her voice is oddly calm, which for some reason is a lot worse than if she’d yelled at me. “There’s nowhere to go from here. I won’t be your cheap lay because you still want me but can’t stand the sight of me. I’ve despised the Bastards for the past ten years, but I couldn’t hate you and the others I met at Odin’s, no matter how much I wanted to. It hurt, Gage, but I wanted to work through it, everything, so we could have a chance together.” She takes a deep breath. “Can’t expect you to do the same, or even want to. Your rep is everything. I know that.”
Without waiting for an answer, she walks off, head held high, and disappears down the stairs.
…
It’s late Christmas Eve when Kat strolls into the kitchen. I ignore her, same as I’ve ignored everyone for the last twenty-four hours, but unlike Tod, my sister isn’t intimidated by my silence.
Finally, I swing around and glare at her. She runs a critical glance over the wrecked kitchen, but at least it’s cleared up now. Just an empty shell, useless for its purpose.
Not that I care. “What do you want?” It’s a growl. Christ, I’d kill for a drink, but some perverse part of me hasn’t let me touch a beer all day.
“Did Amelia really think our dad killed hers?”
I don’t want to do this. Not now. Not ever. Definitely not with Kat. But despite all that, I can’t help answering. “Yeah.”
She’s silent for so long I think she’s dropped it. “That sucks,” she says at last, and she doesn’t sound as though she’s taking the piss. “Imagine finding out the truth after all this time.”
I can’t. It’s too big. “She was never Abbott’s chick.”
Kat gives me a strange look. “I never said she was.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. Christ, I need a shower. “She jacked in the job the first night here. There was never a real plan to bring the Bastards down.”
My sister doesn’t make any smart retort, which isn’t like her. The silence drags on, and it grates on my nerves. “She hates bikers. Told me right up front she only dates nice boys.” The words are like acid on my tongue.
Kat gives her familiar smirk. “No one ever accused you of being that.”
“I don’t know what the fuck she wants from me. I told her I forgave her.” Shit, I didn’t mean to tell Kat that. She’ll never let me forget it. Except right now I don’t care if she gives me hell or not. It won’t bring Amelia back.
“You’re really serious about her.” Kat sounds kind of amazed, and there’s no mockery in her voice anymore. I’m about to deny it when the fight drains from me. What’s the point? My whole fucking club knows it, why shouldn’t my sister?
“Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“Huh.” She frowns as though she’s trying to figure something out. “Does she know you’re serious?”
“Of course she fucking knows.” I stood there while Amelia threw everything back in my face. I stamp out of the kitchen, but the massive hole in the wall of the living room isn’t exactly welcoming, so I make my way to my bedroom. At least Kat won’t follow me in there.
But as I lean against the closed door, doubt eats through me. Truth is, I can’t remember what I said to Amelia yesterday. The only thing that’s clear is she talked a lot of shit about how I never believe a word she said, then she walked out on me.
I won’t be your cheap lay. The words thunder through my head and I tense. She wasn’t serious. Was she? Why would she think I can’t stand the sight of her?
Because I never told her what she means to me.
…
I park down Amelia’s street. The houses are small, but the area’s quiet, with no bars or chop shops in sight. The neighborhood’s definitely nicer than where Odin’s located. Christ, I hate that word.
This has got to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had, but I can’t think how else she’s gonna believe me. Christmas Day is usually spent getting hammered and hanging out with my brothers, apart from a couple of hours with Jett and his old lady. Even the thought of sitting through an evening with Zach and Grace is preferable to knocking on Amelia’s front door.
I square my shoulders and cross the street. For so many years, I wanted to get my own back on Crane. Maybe Amelia was right, and if he’d had sons, Zach and I would’ve fought it out with them. Who knows?
One thing’s for sure. Blood and broken bones are a hell of a lot easier to bear than the possibility of never holding Amelia again.
I grit my teeth to stop the disgusted groan from escaping. Not that it makes any difference. It’s the truth even if I try and deny it.
The door opens, and she’s standing there in a fluffy black sweater and bare feet, looking at me like she can’t believe her eyes. I offer her a grin that hurts my face. “Merry Christmas.”
“Gage?” At least she doesn’t slam the door in my face. “What’re you doing—I mean, I didn’t think I’d…” She hitches in a breath and appears to forget whatever it was she was saying.
“Amy, honey, who is it?” A woman’s voice calls from inside the house. Her mom, I guess, and despite my best intentions a hard knot forms in my chest. Can I really go through with this?
“Um.” Amelia stares at me. She obviously doesn’t have a clue what to tell her mom. “A friend,” she says at last, which isn’t what I want to hear but I guess it could be worse.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other and have the prickling sensation that her neighbors are at their windows, hiding behind their drapes, two seconds from calling the cops.
“Bring her in,” her mom says and comes into the hall. Her smile freezes as she takes in my colors, and for a second she looks as though she’s going to pass out. “What do you want?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and she clutches Amelia’s hand as though she thinks I’m going to carry her off or something.
Inside I’m sweating, but I won’t let anyone see how much this is killing me. “I want to straighten things out.”
Fuck, now more women are flooding into the hall, staring at me like I’m some kind of monster. I thought it’d just be Amelia and her family here today but it looks like all her damn relatives are there.
“Gage.” There’s an odd tone to her voice, and she manages to pull away from her mom’s grasp. “There’s nothing to straighten out. What d’you mean?”
“You need to leave.” Her mom steps toward me, although it’s obvious she’s terrified. If I don’t get on her good side, there’s no chance for Amelia and me.
“I will.” My voice is gruff. “But you need to know I don’t want revenge against you or your family.” I suck in a deep breath, but it’s got to be said. “That died the day I met Amelia. Even if we’re finished. You understand?”
She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move, and the silence is electric. Before I screw my guts together for the second part of my grand fucking plan, Amelia squeezes past me and pulls the door shut behind her. Relief washes through me, although I’ll die before I let her know how much it took for me to face her mom like that.
She wraps her arms around her waist, and I shove my hands into my pockets to keep them away from her.
“That was unexpected.” She eyes me as though she doesn’t know who I am. “And nice of you. Thanks.”
There’s that fucking word again. “I’m not nice, Amelia. Okay?” Shit, that’s the wrong way to try and win her back, but I can’t help it. “I’m a Bastard, the same way you’re a Crane.”
“I didn’t lie to you about my name. Mom changed it legally ten years ago.”
“I don’t care what your fucking name is.”
“And what did you mean by even if we’ve finished? I thought it was obvious whatever we had was over.”
“You thought wrong.” Christ, I hope she just accepts that without me having to spill my guts.
“I didn’t. You changed your mind about things after you overheard me talking to Rex.”
Why’s she so hung up on that? She threw that in my face outside Abbott’s apartment, too. It didn’t make sense then and it doesn’t now. “Why the hell do you think I was going to see Abbott in the first place? It was to find out why he’d kept feeding you the lie about your dad. And yeah, I was gonna kick the shit out of him, too, but you beat me to it.”
“What?”
Despite the uneasy conviction this conversation isn’t going in the right direction, I can’t help the smile cracking my face at the memory. “You always told me you could bring a guy to his knees. Never thought I’d see it.”
Sure, let her think I’m talking about Abbott, but hell if this girl hasn’t brought me to my knees as well.
“No, I mean why did you decide I was telling the truth before you got to Rex’s?”
I sigh heavily. I’ve never known anyone who’s so obsessed with details.
“When you told me about your dad, I didn’t hear you. I was too pissed with you. It wasn’t until later all the pieces fell into place.” The stricken expression on her face when I’d flung the truth at her fills my mind. For the first time, the enormity of what I did, even if I didn’t realize it, slams through me. Christ, how must she have felt, finding it out that way? And then, like a fucking jerk, I’d pushed her away.
“I thought…” She clears her throat and shivers. “I just thought you didn’t care that I’d gotten it all so wrong.”
I can’t help it—I tip her chin up with one finger. Her hair’s messy from the wind, and her beautiful green eyes slay me. Maybe it’s because I’d say anything not to lose her. Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas. “It’s because I care too fucking much about you.”
She blinks a couple of times, like she has something in her eye. “Gage Reynolds, are you drunk?”
“I wish. I’m stone-cold sober.”
Her smile is small, but it gives me a warm glow deep inside. Fuck, this girl’s messed me up so bad, and I don’t ever want it to change.
“That seems so wrong, seeing as it’s Christmas and all.”
“Yeah, well, there’s still half a day left to make up for it.” Just say it. “If you wanna spend it with me.”
“I guess I could.”
My fingers curl around the present I bought her the other day, and I pull it from my pocket.
“Merry Christmas.” I shove it at her, since I’m not used to doing this kind of thing. I didn’t even wrap it up. Girls love ribbons and shit. I should’ve asked for Kat’s help.
“Oh.” She looks staggered and tips the contents onto her palm. “My God.”
I scowl to hide my worry that she hates them. “No good?”
“You’re joking, right?” She looks up at me and there’re tears in her eyes. Is that a good thing? “They’re perfect. I can’t believe you even thought of it.”
I grunt, but there’s nobody here but me and her, so I forcibly relax my tense muscles.
“Why not? Your earrings always turn me on.” It’s her wearing the earrings that always turn me on, but I think she gets my meaning.
She pulls her hoops from her ears and slides in the three silver earrings I bought for her. A unicorn. A tiny book. And a bottle of beer. They look even better glinting against her skin than I imagined.
“So what does this mean?” She runs the tip of her finger along my cut, but keeps her distance as though she’s still not sure of me. “Are we going to date like a regular couple?”
Relief pumps through me, and I grasp her wrists and tug her into my arms. “Yeah, we can date if that’s what you want. So long as you know you’re my girl. For keeps.”
She looks up at me, her head tilted so her earrings are on show. “For keeps? That sounds like commitment to me.”
It’s more than that, and she needs to know I’m not screwing around. Not anymore. But the words still lock in my throat.
Get over it. I hug her tighter, so there’s no chance of her escaping. “I love you, Amelia. Don’t give me a hard time.”
She laughs—at least, I think it’s a laugh, although she’s also crying—and I tense, waiting for her smack down.
“You love it when I give you a hard time.” She sniffs and then sinks against me, her soft body driving every sane thought out of my head. “And I love you, too, Gage Reynolds. Crazy but true.”
I bury my face in her hair, closing my eyes and inhaling her gorgeous scent. All I want is for us to be alone, but the apartment’s a mess, and in any case, there’s somewhere we need to be.
“You still up for spending a couple of hours with my brother and his old lady?”
She rests her cheek against my leather. Against my heart. “Sure. Why not? I don’t care where we spend the rest of the day, so long as we’re together.”
That’s all I need to know. I hold my girl tight and grin at her mom, who’s peering through the window at us.
This is the best fucking Christmas Day ever.
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