Nester

 

I held Zelda like it had been centuries since I’d last seen her. After the last couple of days, it felt like that. I’d come so close to losing her more than once and in more than one way. The result had left me very seriously shaken. It had also made me appreciate just how important she truly was, how much I needed her in my life.

 

She clung to me just as fiercely, gripping me tightly as though I might just up and disappear on her. It sent a twinge of pain and something akin to heartbreak through me.

 

I realized why she was clutching to me so tightly and realized that so much of that was due to the fact that I had all but thrown her out of my apartment when she’d come to me. I had freaked out when she told me she loved me, not because I didn’t desperately want it to be so—I did then and I still did and would likely always feel that way—but because I was still hurt and stewing from my own betrayal.

 

I had spent a long time with Zelda, but with a moment of stark realization I understood also that I had spent more time apart from her than I had with her. It wasn’t my fault and now I knew it wasn’t Zelda’s either, but prison had separated us whether I liked it or not. It had destroyed the beautiful thing we had together, or so I thought, and that had left me raw and furious. I wasn’t ready then to try to patch things up with Zelda, though my body already knew that it was ready to be reunited with hers. It was funny that the physicality of our relationship came so easily, but it was the human mind that resisted what had been so clearly right in front of my face.

 

It had taken Zelda’s confession to draw me back out and for that I was actually and truly ashamed. Zelda had deserved my trust, had done nothing but earn it time and time again over the years, and yet I hadn’t been able to give it to her. In fact, I’d thrown it back in her face like a dirty rag, accused her of horrible things, and, in the end, I’d chased her away.

 

But not anymore. As I stood just outside the bedroom where Santos was now tied up like a hog for roasting, I vowed to myself that I would always trust Zelda from here on out. It didn’t matter what else happened to us, what obstacles were thrown our way. I would love Zelda from here to eternity and never again would I doubt the sincerity or the love that lingered always in her big doe eyes.

 

Taking a deep breath filled with her scent, I eased my grip ever so slightly. It actually had the effect of making Zelda hold me tighter, refusing to let me go, and I laughed a little at that.

 

“It’s okay, baby,” I told her seriously. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

 

My words helped ease part of her worry at least because she lessened her hold on me so that I could pull away slightly. I didn’t let her go, aware that my bleeding hand was seeping through the bandana tied hastily around it and probably getting into her hair and onto the jacket she had tossed about her shoulders. I wasn’t sure whose it was, but I made a mental note to thank him.

 

After what had happened to her tonight, a jacket around her shoulders was probably doing just as much good as holding her tightly in my arms.

 

I got the attention of Bobby, Sr., who was nearby, standing in the doorway. “I need you to round up everyone and get them the hell out of here. The only ones I want here are Santos, Wildcard, Schumacher, me, and…” I paused, looking down at the woman in my arms. I knew Zelda was terrified. She’d been through a lot and I didn’t want to put her through anything more tonight or any other night for that matter, but I knew that she had to be here when everything finally went down. Letting out a sigh, I turned my attention back to Bobby, Sr. and finally added, “And Zelda. The rest of you guys should clear out. Leave Santos’s men, whoever’s unconscious, and make sure whoever might be left takes a very long vacation that starts tonight.”

 

Bobby, Sr. nodded briskly, his face all business, though I could see the tight clench of his jaw and the small tick in the side of it which told me that he wasn’t happy about what had been going on here tonight. I couldn’t be sure who knew what had happened with Zelda yet. I had been the only one to bust in on them right before things got truly bad—they’d been bad enough as it was and I was grateful that I’d managed to stop at least some of it, the worst parts of it—but anyone who looked closely at Zelda could see that she was in rough shape.

 

Her hair was disheveled and tangled, her eyes red rimmed and as wide as teacup saucers. And the bruises looked worse than they had been the other night, whether because Santos had added to them or because they were simply beginning to show in all the colors of true bruises, I couldn’t be sure. And then there was her shirt. The buttons had been popped off and she had to clutch the sides of it together to keep her breasts covered. I realized that her bra was still at my place and I felt a little sick at the knowledge.

 

If she’d had her bra at least, would he have had such easy access? Would she have been spared at least that one piece of humiliation?

 

But it was worse than that. What if I had been more understanding, less of a fool? She had told me she loved me and I had tossed her out like a piece of trash, like she was tainted and so wholly unworthy that I couldn’t even waste the least bit of time on her. But what if I had done what I should have done? What if I’d been honest with her, too?

 

I could have told her that I loved her back. We could have stayed there at my place—well, Jackson’s place—and made love a hundred more times until we were too exhausted to move, too sated to even want to try. I could have made her breakfast and she could have made coffee and we could have lounged in the kitchen, mostly naked, caressing each other’s bodies until we had each other memorized all over again.

 

But I hadn’t done that. Instead, I’d kicked her out when I knew that Santos had hit her. And I knew Santos well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave it at that. I should have known that he would go after her—some part of me wondered if I did know that and had let it happen, but I tried my best to shove that aside, because I wasn’t sure I could survive that kind of guilt and darkness—and I should have insisted that, whatever was wrong between us, she stay.

 

Now I had to live with the guilt of knowing that I could have prevented what happened to her tonight.

 

Taking in a shuddering breath, I forced myself to look down at her and smile. I wouldn’t let anything ever happen to her again, I swore to myself. “I wish I could just let you run out of here with the others,” I told her, letting the apology show thick in my voice. “But you’re going to have to be here to explain some things, otherwise everyone’s going to be in big trouble.”

 

Zelda shook her head, smiling slightly up at me, her doe eyes still big and full of lingering, haggard fear and love for me. “If you’re staying here, then I’m staying here.”

 

I cracked a smile at that, genuinely touched. Then I turned back to address those people who lingered in the house. Bobby, Sr. was doing a good job of getting everyone the hell out of Dodge.

 

“The police are going to be here soon,” I informed the group as a whole.

 

Wildcard cursed at the same time that Santos—who was tied up but not gagged unfortunately—barked out a harsh, angry, “What?”

 

“I called them before we got here and left an anonymous tip.” I turned my gaze, cool and pointed, to Santos. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

 

He snapped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth, and wisely chose to say nothing. I wasn’t a fool and knew full well that Santos had informed to the police on me. He was the reason I’d spent the last five years in prison and I would always remember that. It helped ease any guilt I might have had regarding calling the police on someone who was similar in so many ways to myself.

 

Except for the whole raping thing. No common ground there.

 

Wildcard looked over at me. He was pale and drawn, but hanging in there. He’d have to go to the hospital, I was pretty sure, which was going to go over about as well as my announcement that the police were coming had.

 

“Boss, I don’t think I should be here if the police are coming,” he admitted a little raggedly. I could hear his worry lacing his voice.

 

I knew a little of Wildcard’s past and understood that he didn’t have a great track record with the police. They had a tendency of taking one look at him and trying their damnedest to railroad him until he was stuck with time for crimes he didn’t even commit. It didn’t make him overly fond of them and I understood his intense desire to leave.

 

But I needed him to stay.

 

I shook my head. “Sorry, Wildcard. I know you’re not thrilled, but you played a big part in this whole thing tonight and I need our stories to match up without sounding like I’ve been force feeding it to someone. You were here, you can be honest without sounding like a storyteller.”

 

“What the hell are the police even doing here?” demanded Santos, who, in my personal opinion, was in no position to be demanding anything.

 

I shot him a cold glare. “To arrest you and make sure you go to prison for a very, very long time.”

 

Santos looked smug as he laughed at my statement. “With what evidence? All you’ve got on your side is the word of a couple of rough riders and a whore.” He moved his chin in the direction of Zelda, who was still in my arms.

 

I made to go after him, red clouding my vision as anger took over. I wouldn’t let him hurt her ever again. Not even with words. But I didn’t get very far. Zelda clutched at me, shaking her head desperately.

 

“He’s not worth it,” she murmured, tears in her eyes, pleading with me to stay here in her arms rather than leave to disembowel the monster before us. “Please stay with me.”

 

Her words and her big eyes were enough to convince me. I held her tighter and spat at him, “You’ll never fucking touch her again.”

 

He laughed a little at that, but it was cut short as Schumacher—the only other member of my club who lingered—punched him square in the jaw. It was already tender from earlier, it looked like, so it couldn’t have felt good now.

 

A groan escaped his mouth and Schumacher told him to shut up before things got uglier than his face already was.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, boss?” Wildcard asked, glaring daggers at Santos, but still sounding worried about the police.

 

I continued to hold Zelda as I nodded at him. “Yes. They have a pretty good idea of what’s going on, and more to the point, they’ve already got the file from—”

 

“The file?” Santos repeated, sounding nasally thanks to his nose which was probably broken from earlier and filled once again with blood. “You fucking destroyed it! I saw you!”

 

I let a malicious, cool grin spread across my face. I wouldn’t have smiled like that if Zelda had been able to see me, but she was tucked safely in my arms and couldn’t see my face. Which let me glace menacingly at Santos without worrying about scaring her.

 

“You saw me destroy a file,” I corrected him. “I’d acquired more than a few from your manager.”

 

Santos paled as he realized what I was talking about. I hadn’t been stupid when I arrived here tonight, prepared to trade my life away for Zelda’s. Santos was the kind of man who would destroy us both if he could, and make us miserable if he couldn’t. And I knew that though I had leverage against him, getting out of there with myself, Zelda, and the file all intact was unrealistic. I was hoping that maybe I could take care of all of this before things all went to hell, but I wasn’t counting on it.

 

Before arriving, I made a point of sending the file with all its incriminating evidence to the police department with a few additional notes of my own. I included Calvin’s name and his willingness to testify, as well as the suspected bribery going on for the lawsuits that were unceremoniously dropped. In addition, I also mentioned that Zelda had been kidnapped.

 

If all of that wasn’t enough to light a fire under their asses, then I didn’t know what was.

 

The police arrived within another five minutes. They came up and ordered all of us to have our hands up. It took a little while after that to get things sorted out, but eventually they got the message that Santos was the piece of shit who had kidnapped and attempted to rape my girlfriend. They ordered Wildcard to go to the hospital—not in handcuffs, unlike Santos—and I ended up having to go as well. Zelda was told she could check out, though she insisted that Santos didn’t actually rape her, only molested her and savagely attacked her.

 

It was enough that I noticed the cops weren’t particularly gentle as they handled Santos, despite his injured arm.

 

Schumacher was the only one of us who didn’t need immediate medical attention, so he had to stay and answer question after question. I didn’t envy him, but I also knew the rest of us wouldn’t escape questioning either.

 

But I didn’t care. All I cared about was the fact that I had Zelda in my arms again and Santos would spend a very, very long time behind bars.

 

***

 

Over the course of the next week, we dealt with the police a lot. Answering questions and explaining how I’d gotten my hands on private documents regarding VCI and their involvement and direct responsibility with the collapse of the charity house. Thanks to Bones, who made some polite calls and veiled threats to the manager of VCI, he was going to testify against Santos in exchange for a reduced sentence, saving our butts by claiming to have “come clean” and given us the documents. That made the evidence admissible in court and it also meant that Santos was likely to take the brunt of the damage for what had happened.

 

Santos would stay in jail until his trial date, so I was relieved. He wouldn’t be coming for us anytime soon. Thanks to what had happened at his house and the fact that he was no longer running around out and free, the Wicked Titans were beginning to break apart. Some lingered still, but most had gotten the hint that Santos was going away for a long time and that the Berserkers MC was unlikely to tolerate them.

 

It seemed like there was nothing but smooth sailing, and I was more at ease than I had been in years.

 

I was sitting on the couch at Jackson’s with Zelda leaning against me, her long legs stretched out and propped against the opposite arm. She was reading something, lost in it while also taking comfort in being close to me.

 

I could understand that; I was doing the same.

 

Though Zelda had her own place and it would be easier for us to go stay there, she had insisted on spending most of our time here at Jackson’s. I sensed that she was still upset about everything that had happened—and who could blame her—and wasn’t entirely comfortable with her house yet. From what I understood, Santos spent more than a little time there.

 

I was just relieved that he hadn’t done what he’d done to her there. I wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to recover from that.

 

I was playing with Zelda’s hair when the door opened and voices filtered in. Zelda stiffed, immediately taken out of her book, though she continued to stare at the page, pretending otherwise.

 

“…redecorate! What’s wrong with the old color?” This was Jackson and he sounded like he was whining, though not truly upset.

 

“Because I’m not two anymore! I don’t want baby pink on the walls!”

 

I smiled when I heard the voice of the little girl answering him.

 

I was pleased to see that he’d won out in the end and that she’d come home.

 

As soon as Zelda recognized the voices like I had, she sat up, lowering her book at the same time. She peered over the back of the couch to see Jackson and Angel. Jackson was surprised to see her there and looked between the two of us.

 

He’d missed quite a bit I realized.

 

“Hey. So…how are things with you guys?”

 

Zelda laughed at that, a rich, sweet sound. “We’re good, Jackson. We’re good.” Then she looked back at me, smiling softly. She stretched so that she could plant a sweet kiss on my lips. When she pulled away, she added in a soft whisper just for me, “In fact, I think we’re going to live happily ever after.”

 

I couldn’t have agreed more.

 

THE END

 

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