Libby
One minute I’m watching an action movie with shit loads of guns and muscles, and the next I’m waking up to the TV off and the room in darkness. I’m too tired to move and go to close my eyes when I hear Dex putting his whiskey bottle on the table. Why the hell is he sitting in the dark?
Without moving, I seek out whereabouts he is. He’s not in bed or sat at the small table. He’s standing by the window.
When he was having his standoff with Baze back at the clubhouse, I saw he could control his rage. I see now, he’s learned how to live with it, when to use it to his advantage and when to lock it down.
“Are you not tired?” I ask, clearing my throat.
He turns in the darkness and tips the bottle to his mouth.
“I didn’t want to wake you again.”
“So, you decided to just stay awake?”
I sit up and pull the sheets up to my neck, it’s freezing.
He shrugs, and it hits me hard. It’s the cutest thing I’ve seen from a man. He looks lost, and a little sad.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.
“I’m not tired anyway.”
He’s such a liar, but I’m not going to argue with him. He’s a grown man, if he wants to stay up into the night, he can.
While he broods over by the window, I wonder where my mom is sleeping tonight. I hope she’s okay wherever she is, hopefully that guy Slade will find her soon. Life without dad or the club in our lives is going to be different and take some getting used to, but it’s going to be worth the uncertainty.
Dex moving around breaks into my thoughts and I lay there waiting for him to get into his bed.
Only, the other side of my bed dips under his weight when he climbs into mine.
“What are you doing?” I ask, leaning up on my elbow.
“Apparently, I calm down when you sleep next to me. I’m doing an experiment.”
He stays on one side and I roll onto my back keeping to the other side, leaving a small gap down the middle of the bed between us.
He starts tapping his finger, there’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep with that annoying shit going on.
I cover his hand with mine and in the dark, just the two of us, I’m brave enough to hold this man’s hand, like I was brave enough to sleep beside him last night.
“Sleep well, Dex,” I whisper to him.
“You too, Libby,” he whispers back.
I never got to sleep next to Baze, he was simply a fuck and fuck off type of guy. I have to admit, there is something to be said about waking up to someone in the morning. It’s nice. Dex talks in his sleep, he thrashes around, but he doesn’t snore. His chest rises and falls against my back softly and I don’t have the heart to move. I close my eyes and fall back to sleep.
When I wake, I’m alone, and the cocoon I wrapped myself in earlier has vanished with his absence. Sitting up, he isn’t sat at the table and he isn’t in the bathroom.
A bout of panic sets in thinking he’s left, then I see his bag propped up against the chest of drawers.
He wouldn’t leave his worldly possessions, so I’ll wait for him to come back. Throwing the sheets off, I walk over to the window and peek outside. His bike is still parked outside our room. The snow that was due and started to fall yesterday didn’t come to anything.
After a quick shower and throwing on my last clean outfit, I tie my hair into a high ponytail, and jump when my phone rings. I leap across the bed hoping it’s my mom, and I’m disappointed when Baze’s number flashes up.
What the fuck does he want?
I don’t answer and let him ring until he gets my voicemail. My phone pings with his message moments later and my hand tightens around the phone.
I can’t bring myself to listen to it, but I can’t bring myself to delete it either. It could be something to do with my mom.
A text comes through next, and this I do open and read.
‘I’m sorry how shit went down. I miss you, don’t be scared of what I’ve said and done, we can work this out.’
I’m not scared of him. I’m fucking angry with him.
My fingers itch to write him a reply, but he isn’t worth it. Although, my curiosity is peaking, so when he calls, I’m hitting answer instead of decline.
“What do you want, Baze?”
“Where are you, babe?”
Babe? He’s never called me babe before.
“Tell me where you are,” he pushes.
“I’m surprised you want to know, you set me up to save yourself. Why do you care where I am now?”
“Are you with him?”
“Him?”
I know he’s asking about Dex, but I want to wind him up.
“Dex,” he snaps, clearly losing his patience.
“Oh, him. Yeah, I’m still with him. He’s keeping me company while I find my mom.”
I don’t know what is coming over me, but I want to annoy the shit out of him. I want him to get angry, and shout at me. It’s only over the phone, he can’t touch me now.
“Why are you with him? You don’t even know him?”
“Turns out I didn’t know you either.”
“Come home, no one is angry with you…”
“Fuck off.”
I hang up and drop the phone on the bed. I stare at it for a second and then laugh.
I told a brother, Baze to be specific, to fuck off. My dad would have beat the shit out of me for showing such disrespect to someone in the club if he were still here. My laugh builds uncontrollably when I think if he were still here, he’s not, because he was taken out by a brother from his precious club. How fucking ironic.
“What the fuck are you laughing about?”
I spin around to see Dex is back, holding two bags of takeout.
I fall back on the bed and chuckle.
“Baze just called, he wanted to know where I was and wanted me to come home.”
“And that’s funny?”
“Not really,” I say, “I told him to fuck off and hung up on him. He won’t be happy, just like he wasn’t when I told him I was with you.”
“Was there more to your relationship than you told me?”
“No.”
He puts the food down, and I cross the room and tuck in. I’m starving.
“How did you sleep?”
“Very well,” he smirks, looking a lot less tired.
It’s quiet while we eat, but it’s not awkward.
“Have you heard anything about my mom?” I ask, hoping he has.
“No, my brothers are on the road, I probably won’t hear anything until they get here.”
“Once your club arrive, and deal with Baze, will you leave with them?”
He mulls it over and his chocolate brown eyes hold me down.
“I don’t know.”
I’m not so hungry anymore and I pick at the food he puts in front of me. It’s going to be a long day and I still don’t know where my mom is.
Dex rolls his head for the tenth time and lights another fucking cigarette. Nothing is on the tv and neither of us have said a word in over an hour.
“Let’s play a game,” I say, rolling onto my stomach lying on my bed.
“We’re not twelve,” he grunts.
“No, but we’re bored, and I can’t watch another episode of whatever the hell this show is.”
“Fine, what game do you want to play?” he asks, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray.
“I’ll ask a question, and we both have to answer at the same time.”
Rolling his eyes, he stands and grabs the last of his whiskey and falls onto his bed, mimicking my position and says, “Sounds fun, crack on,” he mutters, sarcastically.
“Favourite food?”
“Pizza,” he says as I say, “Lasagne.”
“Favourite movie?”
He rolls his eyes and answers, “Die Hard.” And I answer, “The Hobbit.”
“My turn,” he says, swigging from his bottle.
“What age did you lose your virginity?”
“Eighteen,” I admit, as he says, “Fifteen.”
“How many people have you slept with?” I ask next.
“One,” I admit again, “I don’t keep count.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. I’m starting to believe whoring around is built into most men.
“I’ve got one,” he says and passes over the whiskey. I take it from him and let the amber liquid burn my throat on its way down.
“Favourite sex position?”
“Doggy,” he answers his own question and I roll onto my side and sit up. I don’t want to play this game anymore.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, it’s getting late. I’m going for a shower.”
I disappear into the bathroom before he asks again what’s going on. I stare in the mirror and hate my reflection.
My favourite sex position is missionary, because to me, it’s the most intimate a guy can be with me as he stares down at me. How fucking boring does that sound compared to doggy style.
He knocks on the door, and I freeze, hoping he’ll leave me alone and go to bed. He knocks again and tries opening the door. I can’t hide in here all night. I take one last look at my reflection.
“Come on, Libby. You like what you like and who cares if no one else does,” I say, giving myself a pep talk.
I open the door and Dex is standing bang in the middle of the doorway.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at me.
“Absolutely fine,” I smile and nip around him.
Pulling back the sheets, I turn out my light and shove the food onto the dresser.
“Seriously? The game was your idea,” he says.
“It was a stupid idea, and I’m tired.”
He takes his seat by the window, and I lay down with my back to him.
I should be focusing on finding my mom, not trying to impress another biker.