CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Apparently, there’s no time like the present to go to crazy-town. Season ticket holder right here.” - Preacher.

 

 

 

      Having a mercurial mind, Preacher was in no doubt where his thoughts were at as he eye-stalked Ruby from across the large expanse of space between them. He moved past his boys who were doing whatthefuckever he didn’t care, and caught onto his lady, hearing her laugh before his eyes found her. He stopped in his tracks, resting a shoulder in the doorway between the hallway and the main room, he had a perfect view of Ruby.  She was deep in discussion with Zara, the way chicks got when it was something important, both women at the bar, one nursing a bottle of coke, the other an OJ, but their easy conversation, getting along as chicks did, wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the carefree expression on Ruby’s face, he saw it rarely and never after she’d had interaction with her sister who drained the life out of Ruby at every opportunity.

      She never did call that douchebag Dwayne back, Preacher though, wanted to have a real long talk with him one of these days, he wouldn’t forget he’d called Ruby a bitch. She laughed at something Zara was saying, Preacher took the noise in and kept it, both smiling like they had their own little feminine club going, and membership to all those who had a dick were denied, he liked that a lot, Z-girl was good people now she’d stopped puking into random trash cans, by all accounts her ‘flu’ had cleared up, but again, it wasn’t the club queen who held any of his attention, that accolade went solely to the woman perched on the stool, her perfect knees were bare, the floaty red skirt she wore resting just above it, and with her hair down and the summery little sleeveless shirt, the excitement Preacher felt pounded in his gut indestructible.

     They’d been having a good time together, keeping to her rules all the while he used subtle ways to try and ingrain himself on her life, he wasn’t above corruption or means of getting his own way when he wanted something, and Preacher was certain he wanted more from Ruby than the rules she’d laid out for them.

     As it stood right now they’d spent more days this week at his house than anything else, she’d even cooked for them, he’d cooked for her, they’d gone to the damn grocery store together and she’d asked him what kind of beef patties he’d wanted, how many kind were there? Cute little thing standing in the meat aisle for ten minutes deliberating, all the while Preacher just wanted to mount her right there and then.

He had it bad.

He had it hard.

His balls throbbed. It was some wicked addiction to his woman if he wanted to empty himself a few hours after already having her in the shower. Her laugh was music and sex. He liked seeing her relaxed and in his place, in his club, loved having her on the back of his bike.

The thud in his chest became a boom-boom, matching the pain in the back of his skull, the headache going on sixteen hours now. When she was at his place, Preacher wasn't sleeping much.

He forgot that pain. His gaze eating her up, he fished for his cell phone to-----

“You can get arrested for that, you pervert.” A voice behind him announced quietly. He turned to see a cocky grin on Grinder’s face. He answered it with his own. His boy had been absent lately. “Not if you don’t call the cops, you narc. Where’ve you been hiding? You weren’t at the meeting again earlier.”

“You know how it is, bro.” He shrugged smiling but Preacher saw something pass through his eyes before it was masked and jovial Grinder was back in the room.

“You got trouble, G?”

“All’s fine, my man, nothing for you to worry about.”

“G…”

“Really, Preach.” He clapped Preacher on the shoulder. “But you know, if I ever was, you get my girl out there, ya understand?” His girl being his custom-made Harley.

The fuck. Though Grinder was giving the impression he was joking, Preacher could sense something was off with him, unless on assignment, G wasn’t the type to go wandering for days on end with no word. Preacher had been that busy with work and his Ruby the last few days that he’d taken his eye off the friend ball. Grinder was always there for him through every shitstorm, both personal and club related, and fuck, some days in the past had been pretty fucking stormy and through it all Grinder was his wingman. He grimaced watched him walking away.

It showed just where Preacher’s head was when that gorgeous laugh grabbed his attention. She’d swiveled around on the stool, fuck, he could almost see up her skirt for a second, his breath stalled, his head bent over his phone, no wonder his brain was aching, she made him crazy enough to try to type shit out when he only usually used it for calls. He didn’t have apps other than his GPS, what the hell did an outlaw want with social media, was he gonna announce the next beat down or under the table illegal deal? But he was even using one of those emoji’s. He smirked sending it and waited while she read;

P: 7:56 - “Let your knees drop open so I can get a better look.”

Her head came up so fast, searching… searching. Here I am, baby. When she found where Preacher was he winked at the little smile playing on her lips. She mouthed ‘pervert’ what was it today people all accusing him of dirty things, just because he had dark thoughts about this woman didn’t mean… nah, he was a pervert, he could own it. Better to own up to what and who he was. Besides which, from all the polls and surveys he’d taken within his bedroom walls, and the screaming graphs, Ruby pretty much liked him the way he was. Now to get her to really like him, that was the task, he thought.

She loved her movie quotes so much maybe he could say; I’m just a boy standing in front of a girl asking her to like him. He’d lose all his man-cards, but hey, if it pleased the tiny dancer.

And that happy freaky weird thought was about as far as Preacher got as he stepped into the main room to claim a kiss from his lady, someone swept in from the main entrance, and two things happened at once. The door crashed against the metal of the doorstopper, clanging it on an echoed loop, making it sound like a fucking bomb going off, and from the compound parking lot was the backfire of some bastard’s car, logically he knew it was just a customer pulling into the shop parking bay with a car that needed some resuscitation, but there was nothing logical in just how he came to an unnatural stop, bones, and muscles freezing in mid-step because all Preacher could hear was rapid gunfire, all he could feel was the shudders of bombs under his feet.

Oh, fuck, no.

No. No. No. Please. No.

It was in his head, in his pores, he tasted the pain and the anguish and the sheer terror pulsing through his veins.

It was real. It was so fucking real and he couldn’t blink it away this time.

His ordinary environment with backfiring cars and slamming doors had knocked on his neurosis’ door and triggered an episode unlike anything he’d had in such a long time he’d stupidly, ignorantly assumed he was past the worst of his issues.

But here they were waving their freak flags in the air.

Bile sped up his windpipe, grease churned in his belly, sweat broke out all over him. There was no fucking air in the atmosphere.

And the thing was, while he was mid-panic, sweat beading on his face and neck, his fists clenched hanging like loose branches at his sides, his mind recreating the most terrible time of his life, Preacher was cognizant of just who was a couple of feet away, and was powerless to do anything about it.

All that could be heard within the lock of his own mind was pandemonium.

Trapped. Trapped.

Heat burned. Fire stained his brain. Bullets and shrapnel, he felt it all in phantom pain with the beat of the sun rays and bullets dropping at his feet.

“No,” he hissed. Not, not here, please. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his vision, this can't occur, no, fucking no ... but it was beyond useless. This was going to happen. It was already happening.

The fire burned in his lungs and it was the worst possible time for it. Preacher started churning in air, growing dizzy, any second now the fucking buzzing in his head will come. It always comes and there's not a thing he can do about it. The equilibrium will take him off his feet. And if he doesn’t puke it’ll be a miracle.

Had he mentioned it was the worst possible fucking time?

"Rider." He choked out.  His prez had been across the room just a bit ago and was in front of him in a second. “Rider.” Voice strangled, pleading. Flashes behind his eyeballs. "Get her … get her out of here." The last rational part of his brain working before he went down to his knees.

That darkness mid-step setting into his brain.

How fucking long was it now? More than a year since his last episode.

Not now, you fucker.

Reasoning with himself wouldn't help. Already his own psychosis had turned enemy on him, placing him on dirt and sand, the sun blistering his skin off. The survival pack on his back heavy.

No. don't show me. Please.

"I'm here, buddy." Grinder.

He had to roll with it, because what fucking choice did he have.

He couldn't breathe. Dizziness assaulted him.

And then the memories became real. He couldn't distinguish where he was anymore.

He fought the arms around him. Had to save Shane.

That same scene over. The shack blew up not thirty yards from him, the blast of it shot him back right into their own jeep breaking every one of his ribs, blew his helmet off his head, the thing saved him, fucking saved him, his spine almost breaking in half as he struggled to his feet. the shock of it. The altogether fucking shock. Every heartbeat almost broke him apart. Rapid thumps under his ribs.

No. No. Shane. SHANE IS IN THERE!

“SHANE!! SHANE!!! NO!”

Pain splintered his chest apart and broke Preacher in two.

 

 

******

 

 

 

“I’m telling you, it was this big!” Declared Zara holding out her hands, space at least a foot apart, both laughed until Ruby almost spit cola all over the bar. God, this was nice. Working twelve hours at the bar yesterday and another six at the Renegade Souls doing two tattoos she was mentally wiped out, she’d jumped at the chance for a soft drink and a chat that didn’t involve bikes and or bikes. Bikers were boringly one track minded.

Ruby was grinning down at her text, feeling the pulse of her heart increase, Preacher was so bad, and she was so bad for thinking of flashing him her underwear, he tempted her like the devil. But nothing came of it, when she heard a commotion, she never for a second thought it would be Preacher as she swiveled her butt on the chair around to face the middle of the room. She blinked, unable to process.

Oh, god.

“Preacher!”

“Hey, now. It’s okay.” Zara tried to tell her. Ruby wasn’t listening. Her feet met the floor, ready to go to him as he let out a blood-curdling scream that stopped her in her tracks, fear for him washed through her vision. “SHANE!”

Her heart skipped a beat. This must be what that guy back in Nebraska had been warning her about, this was Preacher’s …. what … PTSD, he’d said, right? This was how it manifested?

With a lump in her throat, she unglued her feet she only had one thought and that was getting to him, only to come up against Rider, blocking her path. She’d caught Preacher’s get her out of here. She was the her.

No. Fricking. Way. Buster.

“Get out of my way, please.” She stepped left, he stepped right, holding out his hands like he was gentling a wild horse, concern in his blue eyes, and she got it, she really did get it, Preacher was their boy, they were protecting their own. She got it, but he wouldn’t stop her, she cared for Asher, too. She fucking cared for that man.

 “Oh, fuck.” Someone exclaimed as the man she had feelings for continued to rage and call out.

“Move that table so he doesn’t crack his damn skull.”

“I got it.”

“G, on his left, I’ll go right.”

"He's strong as a fucking bull, grab on."

They were all there for their boy. Ruby got it.

"I understand what you're doing, but you need to know you don't need to protect me from him."

"It's what he wants, Ruby. What he made me promise to do if he had an episode."

"And I get that. But understand this, he needs me right now, and I need to go to him, look at him, he's lost in a nightmare, I'm not in danger from Asher. Please, let me go to him."

Preacher was yelling out, his voice cracking, and it broke her heart hearing the despair turn him into a man she didn't recognize. The titan of a man she was used to, his ego larger than he was, always laughing, flirting, so much flirting he was a walking gland, and he was on the floor fucking broken into a million pieces. “Please, Shane, Please, god.” His voice was anguish and grief.

The biker club was Rider’s kingdom, if he decided to kick her out, she couldn’t do much else, the hierarchy began and ended with the president. “Please, Rider. Look at him! I care for him, too. Please, let me help him. I can't leave him like this. I won't leave him. You’ll have to tackle me to the floor...”

“Biker-man, this is her man.” Offered a softly spoken Zara behind her, Rider’s eyes shifted briefly to his woman.

He seemed to waver, looking her deep in the eyes, then back at his friend going through private hell, her heart broke open to hear his mutterings and to watch Grinder try to calm him down. "Let me go to him."

She’d known Preacher was a big man, huge, and strong of both mind and build, but when it looked like he was about to break away from the men who were holding him, Rider took off on a hard sprint, vaulting over the coffee table to grab onto that big man in his struggle.

She followed fast across the common room, dropping to her knees right in front of a man she didn't recognize for a second, his face contorted in suffering, eyes open but not seeing anything other than what was swelling in his mind. Oh, sweet hell, what is happening to you?

"Ruby, he's not himself right now, it might be better if you go, he didn’t want you to see him this way, he’ll be okay, we got him." Advised Rider, his arm locked around Preacher's neck, not to subdue him for any of their sake's but to keep Preacher safe from harming himself, all his brothers hovered around with a look of concern on their faces like they'd been through it a hundred times with him.

This was her first time and may god help her to help him, her chest was shaking with anxiety. She prayed so hard; please hear me, Preacher needs help.

Without glancing at Rider, her eyes were trained on Preacher’s twisted face, she fortified her voice into something stronger and said. "I'm not leaving him."

"Why did you do it, man, it was fucked up!" Preacher growled hissing through his teeth, looking right at her and yet not seeing her. "You fucking followed me! You should have stayed your ass home, gave Ma all those grandbabies she wanted, now look at you."

Talking to his dead brother. If anything was going to have her bawling it was that.

Her poor Preacher man. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

Tentatively, as though she was approaching a wild animal, she shuffled forward on her knees knowing the men had a good hold on Preacher's body immobilizing, her fingers shaking, her whole fucking body shaking, she reached out and touched his throat, felt his pulse hammering so wildly it was a wonder his heart could cope with the increase of blood it was pumping out "Hey there, Preacher man, come on back now, baby, you don’t have to be there, come on back."

His fear was hers. It was a knot in her stomach. Powerless, this what it truly felt like to not know what to do for someone you loved, like the very next minutes would make all the difference to the future. It was imperative he return. As she held his face, she had the sense she was holding her whole entire world.

Oh god.

She loved him.

She’d fallen in love with her fuck buddy. Her belly lurched even as she moved closer to touch him, trying desperately to soothe the pain etched in his skin, she couldn’t think of her feelings, Preacher was all that mattered.

"Get down! get down!" He hissed through gritted teeth, and let go of the most vicious blood-curdling scream she'd ever heard. Rider was murmuring words to him by his ear, Grinder had him around the torso.  Ruby focused solely on Preacher's face, watching the rapidness of his massive chest inflating and the way pressure sweat popped out along his forehead, running in a slow drip down his jaw to gather in his beard, her hand went to his cheek, stroking gently, no clue what she was doing, other than she needed to touch him, to try to calm the beast within.

They’d all sprang into action as if they’d practiced it like a fire drill, but she was batting with no experience except for the instinct to help someone in obvious pain, someone she cared for, more than she realized.  

"Why did you do it, Shaneo? You could have had something good, now you're just dead!" Pain rough with torture. The disquietude carved in every line on his face tore a new ache inside her chest, he was a brand-new person, a broken man.

"I know, I'm such a fucking asshole, Ash." She answered and a split-second Preacher paused in his struggle, his unfocused eyes looking square at her but she guessed he wasn't seeing her at all, his mind was someone far away in a war-torn country witnessing the loss of his brother all over again.

The place that had destroyed him. Whatever she'd said had made him blink. She went with it. "I should have listened to you, jackass move, right?" Her fingers moved against his strong jaw. Willing him to come back to her. He weakened a little, shoulders sagging forward, his chest deflating. He leaned forward on his knees, and Rider dropped his arm from around his neck but stayed in grabbing distance. She wasn’t fearful for herself, only for Preacher, she kept his face in her hands, brought him in, let him rest his forehead to hers, his rough choppy breathing brushing her face.

"I miss you, brother. I fucking miss you."

Oh, her heart. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

"I miss you, too. But you need to come back now, it's the right thing to do and you always do right don't you, Ash?"

“I’m sorry, Shaneo. So, fucking sorry. Should be me.” He looked at Ruby like he was begging her for forgiveness. Begging Shane for forgiveness.

No, it shouldn’t be you, Asher, or I wouldn’t have you now.

This great man, this big strong man on his literal knees begging with tears in his eyes for something that he could never get from the person himself, it was about the most painful thing she’d ever witnessed.

She wanted to give him the world. She wanted to grant him peace.

“You don’t get to decide that, Asher. I wouldn’t want it to be you, and stop saying sorry you, big pussy.” She hoped it was something his brother would have said. A noise rattled his chest that sounded like a laugh. “Time to wake up, Ash, let it go, that’s it, breathe and let it drift away. You’ve carried this burden too long on your own, put it down now and let me make it better.” She spoke as the woman who loved him.

Their foreheads together, Ruby caressed the side of his neck, every cord was tense, but as the minutes ticked back and his manic state lessened, his muttering ceased he began to droop bodily, his breaths regulated until he took one long inhale and she felt his hands touch her waist. “Babe.”

There he was. Holy fuck. Ruby had never been so terrified as this last five minutes, even less, but god, it felt never ending, trapped in Asher’s nightmare with him.

“I’m good, buddy.” He told Grinder hoarsely, who palmed the back of Preacher’s head in a bro-show of affection before he rose to his feet, staring down at Ruby incredulously looking just as shell shocked.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly.

A storm of pain passed through his dark eyes, color staining his cheeks. Ruby wanted to enfold him in her arms, he looked up and caught her staring at him. Shame clear to see, his head went back down.

“Yeah, babe.” He seemed to struggle with working his bones, as if his emotional break had taken all his energy, he rose slowly, avoiding her eyes, only looking at the general direction she was at. “I gotta take a piss.”

Every one of her feelings and emotions were bubbling over the surface as she watched his fast stride away. She watched him until he was out of sight, only then letting out a ragged breath before she got to her feet, rubbing both hands on her face. Fuck, she felt like cracked glass. Most everyone dispersed. Only Grinder remained behind.

“We’ve never thought to talk back at him like that.”

She shrugged embarrassed under his watchful gaze.  What Ruby wanted to do was follow Preacher, to check he was fine. “I thought he could do with answers, even if it wasn’t from the person he wanted them from.”

“Damn, babe. You did fucking good, you hear?” Caught in a fast hug, so unexpected she paused, stiff as a board before patting his back awkwardly. “Thanks for helping him. He’s a pain in my ass most times but I hate to see him lost like that.”

“No problem. I’m glad it did something. That was ..." she exhaled. "Jesus Christ, Grinder … that was scary as hell,” she admitted.

She didn’t see Preacher until her head turned and saw him standing framed in the archway, eyes dark as midnight, unreadable. She smiled with relief to see him.

He didn’t return the smile.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Ruby had been scared of him.

His heart about up and fucking stopped pumping in his chest.

A bad one. It was a bad one this time. Motherfucker. Maybe the worst in a long time. And she’d witnessed every ugly second. If only he had amnesia, but he always recalled his episodes one nasty second for another.

He’d scared her, he heard her plainly tell Grinder. Making his feet move, he went to the bar, grabbed two beers, cracked the cap off one, holding the other in the crook of his arm he tipped the cold bottle back and downed the full thing until all that was left in the bottom was foam suds. He popped the cap from the second before he looked over at her, she walked to him slowly.

There was no debilitating feeling like it than being so fucking royally screwed up mentally and having the woman you're into witness your deterioration in all its technicolor mess.

He felt like a jackass. Embarrassed to boot.

He saw eyes all over him like they expected him to bust out the crazy again any second. A growl formed in the back of his throat. It wasn’t the first time, and still, he was fucking uncomfortable and pissed that it had happened again.

He rose his voice. “Okay, ass-clowns, show’s over. Back to work. That means you, prospects, toilets ain’t gonna scrub themselves.” Three groans followed but they rushed off to obey his commands. Least he still had that going for him.

Throwing water on his face in the bathroom he’d done some fast thinking until he thought he’d bust a blood vessel he was concentrating so goddamn hard on the inevitable he had presented before him. There was no rock and a hard place for Preacher. It was a straight up delivered clusterfuck of astronomical proportions. He’d dreaded this day, and yet, he’d known it was fucking unavoidable.

Hadn’t he predicted just this? Yeah, dipshit, Ruby saw you lose your mind.

His lady saw it all and brought him back.

Goddamn, what a woman.

And yet.

Wanting what he couldn’t have for himself he was interrupted by having to say anything to her as she moved off to the side when Helen came through the door. A petite older blonde woman dressed in denim and smiles, she first kissed her husband Jed before Preacher got a chance to use her for distraction for a minute.

His head was screwed up.

Not sure how his heart felt as it continued to bang around his chest, but it felt shredded. He gulped the last of his second beer, setting aside the bottle, pasted on a smile and wrapped his arms around the smaller woman, no taller than his chest, with a head full of blonde hair, all her own, so she told it, and she paid for it making it hers. "When are you going to leave that old goat and run away with me, Helen? We can grab your purse right now and be in Vegas in a few hours. Look at the silver fox, he'd never catch us, he'd have to find his walker first."

The blonde laughed with her face stained pink before cuffing him around the arm. “Get away with you, you, big flirt. My Jed could still take you.“

“Damn right, darling.” Piped up Jed.

The distraction was soon over and he was left with Ruby. He took her in as he always did, sweeping his gaze over her lovely face, care in her eyes stiffened his jaw. “Come and walk with me, Ruby.”

She looked pleased to have something to do, to see him normal. This was about as normal as I get, baby. He’d kind of forgotten how drained an episode made him feel, raking over past pain as if it was a living breathing and live action movie all over again was a mindfuck not only on his head but every fatigued limb, he’d crash soon.

She was so goddamn pretty with her sad eyes for him. Even now he wanted to fuck her.

Always. Still.

Seeing his dead brother might make him a little mad, but his dick still had a good working head. He had to push any sex thoughts away, for fucking real he couldn’t have any arousal noise around him right now so even though they walked side by side until they reached outside, yesterday he would have grabbed her hand, today he didn’t. “Are you sure you’re okay, Preacher? Your friends seemed to know what to do …”

“It’s not their first rodeo with my crazy, baby,” he smiled tightly, letting the coolness of the breeze air him out, and cool-jet his thoughts, he needed a clear head, and considering his was a screaming basket case fifteen minutes ago it was gonna take some focus to keep clear when all he wanted to do was crush Ruby to his chest and bury his face in her hair.

“I’m sorry if…” warm skinny fingers on his arm shot electricity right through him, halted him mid step to look down at her, his heart heaving like a horse carrying a fat oaf across the finish line. He wanted to bring those long beautiful fingers to his mouth and suck on each one, in turn, he wanted to leave kisses on the middle of her palm to keep for later if she needed a kiss from him.

Knowing it would come to this and having it sat there on his shoulders was a whole other handbag of fish. Preacher inhaled and let it go slowly.

What fucking man wants his lady to see him undone, to see him less than a male who in that moment couldn’t even protect her from a spider?

In a lot of ways Preacher was the old-fashioned type, color him fucking shocked, but it was true. He wanted to be the hunter gatherer, the bodyguard, and the comfort. She’d brought him out of his darkness like the goddess he knew her to be, his Ruby was stronger than she knew about herself, everyone in her life relied on her, expected her to pick up their broken pieces and hold them together all the while it chipped away at her own happiness and she did it, time and again for everyone.

Preacher would never add to that, fucking never.

And yeah, he was pussy enough to admit to himself he didn’t like her knowing that side to him, he was vain enough to have a complex about it. He wanted to be the IT guy for her, not the fucking dude who fell to pieces over shit that was done and over with long ago.

What a fucking joke. He needed a head shrink or maybe just a padded cell somewhere.

What Ruby didn’t need was someone else adding to her load.

No way.

“Listen, Rubes.” She was stroking his wrist and for his own sanity he had to take a step back or he would have dry humped her on the ground, or worse, cried like a fucking baby against her chest and let her sooth him with her fingers.

When there was a mountain to climb, there were many options of direction; Preacher favored the sharp short method basket case and he went for it, the words burning a path up his throat even as his tongue refused to say them, he forced those fuckers out. They wouldn't come. Tell her... we can't do this anymore, Ruby. I'm no good for you, what we had was great, but it's over now, be happy with someone normal. He couldn't get the words out, none of them would come past his tongue. Her fingers burned, her eyes seduced him.

“Preacher, what did you want to say?” Long fingers came back to his wrist, his eyes followed the move, a contrast in their skin color, dark and light, blended as if made for the other, the perfect merger of mocha. His perfect woman.

He needed to tell her this was finished between them. Set her free, jackass. She doesn’t need your bullshit dragging her down.

What’s that saying; if you love someone set them free?

Couldn’t do it. Fuck. Fuck. Noise filled his ears. A silent war going on in his brain. Couldn’t do it.  

The right thing to do was to let Ruby go. Not involve her any further in his giant head fuck. But when had he ever done the right thing? He was a selfish greedy motherfucker. Somewhere along the line of them having fun he'd made that lady his.

My lady.

He'd do whatever he had to do to keep her, to not burden her with worry or fear. To protect her from life, even if it meant himself.

But give her up? Fuck that noise in the ass with a small dick.

Ruby Steele belonged to Asher Priest. He'd write that shit in Sharpie somewhere. Make it true. Make it real.

Ruby was a gravitational pull he'd been orbiting for years, looking and watching, not daring to touch, she was too precious and good for him, but boy, had he fucking pounced with his opportunity and now he was in her orbit, sharing the same air.

He couldn't let her go, he was too egotistical for that. Anyone could tell she was better without him, he'd drag her down emotionally if she let him, her heart was enormous and impressionable to jackasses like him, easy to hurt and to leave lasting scars behind, but he swore on his goddamn bike he'd do all he could to make that woman happy, to see her smiling and his own problems... well fuck, that he didn't have answers to, Preacher wasn't all that smart. He'd gone a year without one episode, maybe he could go another year, maybe two, until they petered out.

That was the hope.

Or what was his alternative? Lie down and die?

Not when Ruby had walked into his life, not when he felt alive for the first time in a long time.

Couldn't, wouldn't, nuh huh. A big percentage was his dick doing the talking, he knew that. Ruby had him like an animal in heat constantly.

It was no coincidence Preacher's heart began to beat again the night he saw her in Otis' bar.

Fucked in the head or not, he couldn't give her up, even if it was best for her. She'd scowl at him and tell him she knew what was best for her and to shut his mouth.

That woman. Mine.

He smiled wistfully.

"Preacher, you good, man?" Called out Snake striding towards the bike shop. Preacher swerved his body and scowled at him.

"Jesus motherfucking Christ, will you nancies quit asking me if I'm okay. Can't a man scream on his knees occasionally?" He tried to make light of it, Snake laughed.

"True. You scream like a woman, by the way. Turned me on a little ...not gonna lie."

Preacher laughed. "You're a fucking sicko."

"I try. Later, gorgeous. And you, Preach."

They walked a little. Talked a little. Ruby held his hand and stroked his fingers, each touch distracting.

When they were around the corner out of eyeshot of anyone else he backed her into the wall at the side of the shop, his voice was low, still tempered with his emotions, no one would hear him, the noise from inside was too loud anyway. The look in her eyes baited and taunted at the same time.

"Would you let me fuck you right here? if that's what I wanted right now."

"Yes." She said on an inhale.

What if I..." he flipped her around, holding her waist, keeping her pinned, he got in good and tight to her ass, his groin throbbing as he rubbed on her, "wanted to fuck you like an animal, just like this?"

"Yes."

"God. Ruby. You’d let me as well, wouldn’t you? Fuck, baby." Dropping his forehead to her shoulder, he sucked in her scent, before turning her gently, he pulled her in close, holding her tightly, her arms went around him equally tight. "What you did for me, thank you, beautiful. I didn't mean to scare you. Please don't be afraid of me, I'd never hurt you." Fuck, I hope not.

"Preacher." She pulled away slightly, looked at him. "I wasn't scared of you. I was scared for you. I didn't know what to do to make it better, I hated seeing you hurting like that."

He felt color rush into his cheeks, staining his face so he tugged her back into a hug.

Jesus, this woman was dangerous. He wanted to give her everything he had, and that wasn't much, but it was hers if she wanted to own it.

"I think you should go home and rest, Preacher."

"I can think of ten better things to do in bed."

She laughed and pulled back, arching a dark brow. "I just bet you can, perv."

"Come home with me and I'll show you."

"You sex pest, I have to stick a needle in a very burly man who might blub like a little girl in about fifteen minutes and you look like you need to sleep more than you need to fuck."

When she said fuck like that all Preacher wanted to do was hear her say it over and over, sleep was far from his mind.

"Come to my place afterward." He countered.

"Will you sleep first?"

"Yes." He was exhausted. Just as well she wasn't coming with him, he probably couldn't do justice to how he wanted to take her. "Then you'll come?"

"Yes."

"And...?" He waited with a smirk.

"And you can do me like a dirty animal."

Preacher groaned dipping his head he buried his face in her throat.

"Ruby?"

"Yeah?"

"You know this is more than fuck buddies, right?"

She went still and silent within his arms.

More silence.

Fuck.

"I do, Asher." Her voice quiet.

"Good. I'll let you go stick needles in a brother." Dropping a kiss on her lips he walked her back to the main entryway, wound a fist full of her hair around his hand, tipped her head back and devoured her mouth in a kiss that left him fucking aroused.

"Wow." Ruby swayed, leaning into him.

"You're so damn beautiful, have I ever told you that?" Foreheads met, eyes locked. Preacher would swear she was embarrassed by the compliment.

"Thank you."

“You’re too damn good for me. Go inside before I take you here. Come by tonight, Ruby. I need to see you."

"I will." She touched the side of his face briefly, "go and get some sleep, Preacher man. you're going to need it." She laughed and left him there, tongue out, and watching her ass sway left and right.

Saucy little minx.

Ruby had done the impossible. She'd brought him back from the brink of an episode and she'd made him feel better.

What else was he to do except keep this woman?

War and death had been his shadows for a long time, but he could say at least he'd kissed a goddess.

She was imprinted on his soul, somehow it had happened, she'd just sneaked in there and made herself at home.

He might be a little mad, he reasoned. But at least he knew that.