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Healing Gabriella (Red Devils MC Book 8) by Michelle Woods (9)

Chapter Nine

 

 

 

 

Pretty Boy climbed off his bike glancing at Log who’d ridden over with him to the warehouse they were helping to set up for Mark and his small crew. The meeting hadn’t taken long, but his report hadn’t sat well with any of them. Discovering more bullshit that the Jackals were up to was a pain in the fucking ass. He just wanted to be at home with his woman, not off dealing with more bullshit. His mind focused on Gabi and the smile that she’d worn when he’d left this morning after kissing her.

“You know most everyone thinks you’re nuts, right?” Log asked, looking sheepish.

“Why’s that?” Pretty Boy asked as they walked towards the door.

“Cause you’re with Gabriella. Nobody gets it,” he grunted.

“Nobody needs to get it. What’s going on between us is just that, between her and me. Why are we even having this conversation?” He didn’t like talking about his relationship with anyone because it was none of their fucking business. Log was about the only one he’d ever consider explaining anything to and even then, it wasn’t like he was going to sit around like some pussy talking with his friend about his feelings.

“I just thought you should know that your plan to stay with her, even if she can’t really be with you worries me. Hell, you’ve become a monk since the day she was found. I just don’t want you to end up unhappy. She might not be able to give you what you need.” Log said haltingly, likely because he didn’t want Pretty Boy to feed him his teeth.

He wasn’t far off. Pretty Boy was tired of people questioning him about Gabi. Yes, she’d been raped repeatedly and fuck if that hadn’t left some serious scars they were going to have to work through, but she wasn’t destroyed. He knew that for a fact from the moment she’d curled up in his arms almost a year ago. A woman who couldn’t move past the trauma of her experience wouldn’t have crawled into his bed three nights after her rescue. He’d been a complete stranger to her before her kidnapping. She’d somehow sensed the connection between them and acted on it. Pretty Boy had listened to the stories most of the men in the club who had old ladies had told. How they saw a woman who they knew almost instantly was different than the rest. He’d thought it was bullshit.

After Bone had almost screwed things up with Molly, and Trick had run out on Katie more than once, he’d wondered how that made them different. He hadn’t understood until he’d stood in the dead of night in the middle of a shed watching a dirty, half starved, almost wrecked Gabriella flinch away from Ratchet. He’d never felt rage like he’d felt that night. He’d never really been affected by the things he’d seen. Growing up with a nearly absent dad and an alcoholic mom, who cared more about her next drink than if her kid was safe or not, had taught him that bad shit was the norm and not the exception. Only seeing Gabriella’s bruised, almost swollen shut eyes, split lip, and three broken fingers had nearly taken him to his knees.  

That night he’d stared at her, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched so hard he was still surprised he hadn’t cracked his teeth. When she’d started letting out those pitiful little moans and covering her head while she cowered, he’d nearly lost his shit. He’d shoved it all back and knelt beside Gabi, trying not to reach for her because he knew that it would only frighten her more. Her body was literally shaking and he’d felt like someone had sucker punched him in the nuts. He had spoken to her softly trying not to talk too loudly because noises seemed to frighten her more. He then barked at Ratchet to get her brother and moved towards her by inches, trying not to lose his shit every time she seemed to shrink further back, as if she was trying to disappear into the wall.

Fuck, that night still ripped his soul to shreds every—fucking—time he thought about it. When he’d finally touched her hand gently and waited to see if she’d jerk away, he’d been surprised by those soft grey-green eyes that had met his. He’d been caught from that moment and he knew then, that she was different. His days of carefree fucking were over and he hadn’t given a shit. She had looked into his eyes for a long moment before she’d moved. He’d expected her to flinch away from him, but she’d shocked the fuck out of him by almost jumping into his arms. He’d held her despite the stench of her unkept body. He’d only cared about her thin arms around his neck and the way she’d stopped shaking as bad when he’d wrapped her up in his embrace. He remembered lifting her and carrying her from the room. He’d been halfway to the cage with her when Mark showed up and grabbed her from his arms. At the time, he’d been ready to kill Mark for taking her from him, but he hadn’t argued. Mostly because he’d known that he didn’t have any right to fold her into his arms and never let go.

Pretty Boy had riden in the cage—a large Chevy Tahoe—with them to Doc’s place unwilling to be too far from her. The whole car ride she’d sat in her brother’s lap watching him with those grey-green eyes. Everything inside him had protested when they whisked her behind the doors of an exam room leaving him pacing the waiting room, his fists clenched and his insides churning with pent up rage. He’d ended up punching the wall and breaking his hand. Doc had just sighed heavily and used the bone knitter to repair it once he’d finished with Gabriella. Pretty Boy had ended up sitting in a chair across the room from her. Mark had allowed it only because the one time she’d woke up and he wasn’t in the room, because he’d had to piss, she’d curled into a ball and begun whimpering. She’d only calmed down when he’d returned.

He would never forget walking back into the room and seeing her small form curled into itself with her shoulders shaking and her eyes haunted. Unable to stand the soft whimpers she was releasing, Pretty Boy had gathered her into his arms and held her, whispering into her hair that she was safe. It was obvious as that Mark hadn’t known what to do and he had sat silently watching them from his chair. It had only taken about five minutes to get her to stop crying. He’d looked over to find Mark staring at him with a frown. Gabriella’s hands were clutching tightly to him with her face in the crook of his neck asleep. Pretty Boy hadn’t minded the soft feeling of her breath puffing against his skin, or the way she’d clung to him like he was her only lifeline.

Mark was shocked that Gabriella allowed him to touch her, but Pretty Boy had known even then that they were meant to be together. It wasn’t something he’d questioned. It was why leaving to go on the run he’d left for a day later had nearly killed him. Nothing in his life had prepared him for Gabriella, so he shouldn’t be surprised by everyone questioning him about what he was going to do, but he fucking hated it. If he wanted to live the rest of his life as a fucking monk—which last night proved was unlikely—he would, and fuck anyone who thought they could say differently.

“Gabi and I aren’t up for discussion Log. You of all people know that what happened to her didn’t break her. Yes, it’s left scars. Damned serious ones, but she will move past them because she isn’t going to let them steal her whole life. She said that to you last week in fact.” He managed not to tell Log to mind his own fucking business, even if that was what he really wanted to say to him, but he was his best friend. The man he trusted to always have his back in every situation.

“She wasn’t talking about sex when she said that Pretty Boy. We both know she might not ever let you touch her.” Log said, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched him, likely worried about angering him.

“Log, you’re my brother and I don’t want to tell you to mind your own fucking business. But mind your own—fucking—business. What I’m willing to accept as a sexual relationship isn’t any of your fucking concern. You don’t ask Trick about the shit that goes down between him and Katie, or what Tiny and Racheal get up to. What makes me and Gabi any different? I’m a fucking adult and can make up my own mind. Now, can we get this shit taken care of so I can get back to my woman, or do you want to argue some more?” Pretty Boy stomped into the warehouse ready to do anything except continue having a pointless conversation that wasn’t going to change anything.

“You’re right. I just want you to be happy, man. I don’t want to keep pushing, but with all the men up in arms about this, it’s fucking with my head.” Log muttered as he followed him inside.

“Well get over it. Gabi’s my concern and not anyone else’s.” Pretty Boy snarled done with the conversation and the bullshit that everyone was giving him about his relationship. He grabbed one of the boxes with the traps they were setting up to protect Mark and the men who would be helping him with his surveillance, moving into the next room. Log followed him, but he must have gotten the message that Pretty Boy wasn’t in the mood to discuss this shit anymore because they worked silently for the next three hours.

 

 

 

The paper fluttered against her hand as she sat with her pen poised above it trying to think of the next line in the song she was writing. Her mind repeating the lines over and over as she lifted her voice singing the lyrics.

 

My heart was open, my soul was pure

Then the devil dragged me down

Down, down into the fire

And the Darkness poured into my soul

Filling me up, shattering me whole

 

I lay down in the broken glass that’s now my home

Utterly ruined, fighting for my soul

Reaching out for freedom

Never finding peace

Always searching for the light

But darkness is all I see

 

My heart was open, My soul was pure

Then the devil dragged me down

Down, down into the fire

And the Darkness poured into my soul

Filling me up, shattering me whole

 

Damn, she just couldn’t get the next line no matter how she worked it, she felt like it was just out of her reach. Right on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn’t seem to find the right words. Letting out a large sigh Gabriella stared across the lake watching the sun play over the water. It was like diamonds glowing in the mirrored surface of the lake licking at the shore line with greedy fingers. Her heart ached as she thought about what had happened last night with Kyle. It hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared it would be, but it hadn’t been good either. Why did he think they would be able to get past the shit that had happened to her? She just didn’t get it.

Sure, she’d walked into his cabin years ago knowing without any doubt that Kyle was the way to survive what she’d been through, but it didn’t make her shattered pieces any less shattered. Didn’t he know that? She wasn’t sure, but she knew that for him—after everything he’d done for her—she had to try. Her mind circled around the lyrics again trying to find the right line for the next verse. Nothing was coming so she found herself just repeating the same lyrics over and over, singing them to herself as she watched the dying light of the sun reflecting off the water.

She loved sitting here to work on her songs. They were the only way for her to pour out the poison in her heart to try and find a way to live again. Reaching, she pushed her hair back still wondering if she could manage to walk out of the darkness she still felt surrounding her heart. What those men had done to her in that warehouse had burned away her future, but she was fighting them. She wouldn’t let them win, damn it. She just wouldn’t. Suddenly the next line came to her and she frantically wrote it down because it was true.

 

My heart was open, my soul was pure

Then the devil dragged me down

Down, down into the fire

And the Darkness poured into my soul

Filling me up, shattering me whole

 

Then you walked in, holding me up

 

Shit, now what? Nothing came to her and she just couldn’t think of another line, with a small sigh she leaned her head down onto her knees. Hearing footsteps coming towards her she snapped her head around, with her heart pounding as she jerked to her feet with her notebook clutched in her hand preparing to run. Only the figure who walked towards her wasn’t a threat, making her eyes close in relief and slowing her racing heart.

Kyle was walking down the path towards her with a look of awe on his face and she wondered why he was looking at her like that.

 

 

Pretty Boy climbed off his bike and headed towards his cabin ready to see his Gabi and maybe steal a kiss from her sweet tasting lips before he made them dinner like they’d planned before he left this morning. As he neared he saw Rock sitting on the grass behind a bush watching something near the little lake that was walking distance from his cabin. Curious, he walked toward him stopping about a foot away when he heard the voice of an angel singing the saddest song he’d ever heard in his life. The voice ran through his heart like a knife through butter because the pain that voice held was like nothing he’d ever heard. He knew who was singing then and he wanted to rip the world apart for hurting her like that. Damn, he’d known she was hurting, but he’d never felt it like he did when he heard her signing.

“Shit, you scared me.” Rock hissed, jerking around to look at him.

Pretty Boy shrugged keeping his voice low when he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Listening. She comes here about three times a week and she has the voice of an angel. Me and a few of the other boys come to listen often. She never finishes the song and seems to be stuck on that last line about the shattered pieces of herself, but man her voice is like—I don’t know. It cuts through you, you know?” Rock said, his eyes sad as he looked up at Pretty Boy.

“Yeah, I get it. Only she would likely not appreciate you listening. Seems to me she comes here for alone time. Maybe you should respect that.” He couldn’t keep the hard edge from his tone as she started singing the song again from the beginning.

“It’s not me invading her space unless you tell her. I just come with a few of the guys who’d heard her with me about a month or so ago. We sit and listen, that’s it. Nobody would mess with her and we’re here to watch her back.” Rock said, a cagey look entering his eyes as he said the last words. Damn, the man knew that he would want Gabi safe at all times and even if it was unlikely someone would mess with her at the lake, it could happen.

“Fuck. Alright, but be sure that she never sees you here. Maybe she will sing it for everyone once she finishes it.” Pretty Boy said shaking his head.

“Damn, listen to that. She finally got another line.” Rock said.

Pretty Boy had been half listening and when the lyric she’d added finally made its way to his brain he heard the little bit of hope that had entered her voice when she’d said that new line—Then you walked in, holding me up—fuck she was talking about him. Unable to keep the smile off his face as he nodded to Rock and moved down the path towards Gabi with wonder filling his smile. She was adding him to her song and for some reason he knew that was about last night when they’d kissed. He saw her jump up and spin around, likely preparing to run away, but when she saw him she calmed down and stood there waiting on him to walk to her. When he was inches from her he grinned and reached out, pulling her into his arms.

“Hey, firefly,” he whispered against her hair as he kissed her forehead.

“Hey,” she squeaked, just before his lips landed on hers. Pretty Boy was satisfied when she didn’t stiffen and her mouth opened, accepting the kiss he planted on her. Her arms coming up around his neck with the notebook held against the back of his neck as he devoured her taking what he needed. His tongue thrusting into her mouth roughly as he poured the awe he was still feeling at her adding him to such a powerfully moving song about her soul.

They stood like that for a long while with his mouth on hers, just kissing before he finally pulled back seeing her kiss swollen lips with a little satisfaction.

“Let’s go home and I’ll make us those steaks I promised.”

Her face was flushed and she looked a little dazed as she stood in his arms still holding her notebook against the back of his neck. Her grey-green eyes were dark pools of desire as she looked up at him.

“Okay,” she finally said.

Taking her hand, he led her home, feeling like his heart was lighter than it had ever been. He was damned glad Gabi belonged to him.

 

 

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