Sarah

I’m just pouring the sugar into my fourth cup of coffee when I hear the heavy thud of boots approaching from behind. “Mind if I grab one of those?” Ryker asks.

“Sure.” I press the button on the coffee machine, cueing it up to make another cup. I turn and give him a tight smile. “I wanted to thank you for...you know. Rallying the troops and helping us find a donor.”

Ryker shrugs. “Not a big deal. We’re a club. It’s what we do.”

I nod and take a sip of my coffee. “Still. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

With a small wave of my hand, I walk past him, anxious to get back and see if there’s any news on Reaper.

“Sarah?” Turning, I meet his eyes, and as soon as I do, my heart sinks. His fixed stare tells me that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say. “I’m not normally one to stick my nose in other people’s business, but watchin’ you go through what you’re going through as a mother, and dealin’ with what you’re dealing with when it comes to Bos...well, I kinda feel like you’re not seein’ shit clearly and I wanted to let you in on somethin’.”

Suddenly, I have the inexplicable urge to cover my ears and sing a song and run down the hall, putting as much distance between me and Ryker as I can. But I don’t. Ryker has never been anything but kind and fair with me, and I know I owe it to him to at least hear him out.

“Now, I know your mind is currently focusin’ on your little girl, as it should be. But I don’t think you’re grasping the reality of what you have around you.” My brows draw together in confusion. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“When Mouse died, the club rallied around you, made sure you were okay. Took care of you. We put Bosco on you to make sure you never wanted for anythin’. I’m not sayin’ you owe us for any of that; that was ours to give. But I do want you to know that we loved your man. Mouse was one of us. He loved you, and that made you one of us.

“I’ve watched in silence as you’ve pulled further and further away from this club. You ignore the ladies, you don’t talk to anyone but Bosco, and that’s only ’cause he’s in your face all the time.”

Something inside me snaps. “You wanna know why I pulled away? Why I can’t stomach the idea of being around all of you?” Ryker just raises a brow and waits. “Mouse died because of all of you, because of your club. Every time I turn around there’s something else going on with you guys. Someone’s getting killed, or kidnapped, or arrested. Do you really think I want to raise my daughter around that kind of shit?”

My outburst shocks me and my shoulders heave, but Ryker takes his time considering what I’ve just said. After a long minute of silence, he says, “Fair enough, I can get behind that. But you’re only choosing to see the bad shit about this club, the shit that rarely happens. This club is a family. A fucked-up family, sure, but we care about each other. You’re not seeing the fact that we were all here when Millie was born, or that when Laynie fell down the stairs last year, she had a steady stream of people taking care of her, all of them a part of this club. You’re forgetting about the bow Millie just put in Reaper’s beard, which he forgot about, by the way, and I’m sure the doctor in the operating room is loving the way it matches his eyes. You’re choosing to ignore the twenty some people in that waiting room, all of whom were willing to have a needle jammed into their pelvis to give your little girl a fighting chance. So, before you go accusing us of being a danger to you and your daughter, you think about all of that.”

I blink up at him, my chest aching.

“And as for Bosco,” he continues, “that man has gone above and beyond what this club has asked him to do for you. You don’t have to be with him the way he wants, but cutting him out of that child’s life when she’s sick is fucked-up and you know it.”

He snags his coffee from the percolator and pushes past me, leaving me with a quivering chin and a heart full of remorse. First Bosco and now Ryker. Both of them had ripped into me today, and both of them had been right. I have a lot to think about, and several apologies to make.

Bosco

I watch as Millie’s color returns to normal right before my eyes, the marrow being pumped into her directly through the catheter in her chest. It had taken two days for her little body to be prepared for this, and though it isn’t without its risks, I know that Reaper’s selfless act will be exactly what she needs to fight this.

Sarah and I haven’t spoken much the last couple days, even though I haven’t left their side. I get her coffee and food, but our conversations never move past one or two-word interactions.

“Scott?”

The sound of my actual name on Sarah’s lips surprises me. To be honest, aside from my dentist, nobody ever calls me by my real name, choosing instead to use the short form to my last name, Boscarelli. I look up and wait for her to say whatever it is that’s causing that nervous look on her face.

She glances to the bed where Millie lies, sleeping peacefully from the sedative she was given, and then back to me. “I owe you an apology.” She screws her face up and grimaces. “Hell, I owe you a million apologies. I never should have told you that I didn’t need you the other day. That wasn’t true. I was feeling sorry for myself and for Millie, and I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I kinda took it out on you.”

I smirk and cock a brow at the use of her word ‘kinda.’

“Okay, fine.” She hums softly, a sparkle of humour in her eyes. “I really took it out on you. I was a selfish bitch and I’m sorry.” Pink rises in her cheeks, and she turns her face to the floor, her eyes meeting mine from beneath her lashes. “I’m also sorry about the other day. I was a total dick kicking you out of the house the way I did. I don’t even have an excuse. Fear? Temporary insanity? Pick whichever one you like.”

I pretend to consider the options, tilting my head to the side. “The insanity plea does make sense.”

Sarah’s eyes roll back in her head as the shame vanishes from her face and a smile appears. “You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?”

I wipe the teasing grin from my face and move my chair a little closer, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake Millie. “First of all, don’t call yourself a bitch. I hate that shit. And second, apology accepted.” I lean forward and wrap my hand around hers. “I know you’re going through a lot, Sarah, and I can’t imagine the things that are running through your head. I care about you and I care about Millie. I don’t want my presence in your life to be something bad. I’ll back off if that’s what you want. Just don’t cut me out again. That’s not fair to me or that little girl over there.”

Sarah’s eyes search mine. “What if I don’t want you to back off? What if I told you that this whole time, I’ve misjudged the club and you, and even me? That I’ve let my fear of what happened to Mouse take over my thoughts and push you away?”

My heart thumps in my chest. “What are you saying?”

She glances over at Millie, and then leans forward, so close that her lips brush against mine as she speaks. “I’m saying, please don’t write me off. Not yet.”

She doesn’t move to kiss me. She doesn’t say another word. She just waits for me, her lips hovering within reach, waiting for me to make a decision that could alter the course of our relationship forever. With the scent of her hair invading my senses and the warmth of her breath on my face, my thoughts are jumbled. Muddied. I don’t want to fuck this up.

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I gently push her back just a little, needing some distance to clear my head. A flicker of sadness shines in her eyes. “Babe, I never once wrote you off. I don’t scare that easy.” I watch as a small smile ghosts across her lips. “But let’s just take it slow, okay? It’s better for all of us that way. I know you still have shit to work out in your own head, and to be honest, I’d rather wait until I know you’re all-in here, just like I am. And if you start to get spooked again, tell me.”

Sarah swallows and nods, her eyes boring into mine. For the first time, she drops the mask of strength and I find myself staring into the face of her insecurity and fear. She lets me see it all, making herself vulnerable to me for the first time since I’ve known her.

“Scott?” My name is but a whisper on her lips. “Kiss me.”

Taking her face in my hands, I pull her toward me, my lips pressing against hers. We don’t move. We just sit like that, her hands covering mine, our lips pressed together in one hard, sweet kiss. There’s no lust involved. No all-consuming need to possess each other. Just forgiveness and love, and relief that we’ve laid it all out on the table.