Ethan

 

Ethan woke up when a shaft of sunlight plunged through the thin material of the tent. Damn it, he’d set an alarm and, apparently, it hadn’t gone off. He’d planned to take Amelia back out to watch the sun rise. He rubbed his hands over his face tiredly and rolled over, reaching out to pull her close and apologize for his phone not waking them up.

 

But she wasn’t there. His hand met only empty sheets when he reached for her for the second time in their relationship. He sat up so fast that his head spun.

 

“Amelia?”

 

She didn’t answer. A thousand scenarios ran through his head. She could have been attacked by something, either human or animal. Maybe she’d gotten up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and she’d gotten lost. Maybe she was just gone.

 

He shut the thoughts down, grabbed his jeans and yanking them on. He jerked the shirt he’d worn yesterday on, as well, because he didn’t want to take the time to dig through his bag for anything. He didn’t even bother to tie his boots before he grabbed his cell phone and prepared to duck out of the tent.

 

Ethan went still when he saw the text message notification. It was from Amelia and it was several hours old. He opened the message, not sure that he really wanted to see what it had to say.

 

I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t marry you. I’ll keep you up to date about the baby, but I need some time. Please don’t contact me.

 

The volume of his phone had been turned down before it was sent. That was why he hadn’t heard his alarm. She’d left him in the middle of the night and she’d been very careful not to give him any kind of warning.

 

His pulse rate kicked up as a mixture of anger and disbelief poured through his blood. Was this really how she was ending things? After the night they’d had? Yeah, there hadn’t been any sex, but he’d felt closer to her than he ever had, falling asleep with her in his arms, feeling like they were finally getting onto the same page together.

 

She’d gotten along with everyone she’d interacted with at the campground. She’d snuggled back against him out in the desert, answering his questions and asking her own. There hadn’t been a single thing that had gone wrong. At least, not that he knew of. There’d obviously been something. Apparently, he wasn’t ever going to figure out what the hell it was because she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him like an adult.

 

The anger stretched its wings, expanding by leaps and bounds, and Ethan let it grow. Hell, he fed it. Anything to drown the rising tides of hurt and pain that were trying their best to consume him now that the first shock was gone. She wanted to go? To sneak off without saying anything or trying to work things out? Fine.

 

He didn’t need someone that childish in his life. His whole goddamned life would be much simpler without her in it. He could eat mustard again. He could...he couldn’t think of anything else that Amelia interfered with, so Ethan worked hard to convince himself he’d missed the freedom of being single.

 

He could have a different woman tonight if he wanted one. Ethan swallowed hard, ignoring the distaste he felt from the thought of going to bed with someone besides Amelia. Or maybe it would be good just to stretch out in his own bed and be alone in his house. It would be quiet. Not that Amelia’s chatter had ever bugged him.

 

The place wouldn’t smell like her anymore. When they’d gone shopping she’d bought a flowery smelling body wash that made the bathroom and bedroom smell unmistakably feminine. He hadn’t thought he’d like it; he certainly hadn’t expected to miss it. He also hadn’t expected to like the scent of the small candle she’d put on the nightstand, the one that smelled that marshmallows and a campfire. Or the laundry detergent that she’d asked for, the one that was supposed to smell like some kind of meadow. But he did.

 

He liked the scents she brought to his life. And the colors. And the sounds. How was he supposed to go back home and be surrounded by all those things when she wasn’t there?

 

Ethan shoved those thoughts away, too. No. She could have talked to him, but she’d taken the easy way out. Even if he wanted to track her down again, how could he be with her now that he knew he would never know what she was really thinking and planning? The short answer was he couldn’t. He didn’t expect her to share her every thought with him, but he damn sure would have wanted a heads up about this.

 

She’d mentioned the baby. He made a mental note to try to find a lawyer. A good one. That Anthony guy was a lawyer, too. If she went back to him, he might be screwed. Of course, he might be anyway because she knew a hell of a lot more about the political world than he did. But that wouldn’t keep him from his kid.

 

Ethan rolled the sheets and blanket into a ball and stuffed them down into the bag. Then he deflated the air mattress. The club was supposed to stay another night, and he hoped that they did, but he couldn’t do it. Not with everyone looking at him and asking where Amelia had gone. That ignited his anger all over again. She’d left him holding the bag, trying to explain her behavior when she wouldn’t even explain it herself.

 

The rest of the people in the campground were staggering to life, some heading to the showers, some having morning cigarettes, and others starting to brew coffee cowboy style as Ethan began to break down his tent.

 

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked him.

 

The road captain was the most awake out of all of them and he’d clearly just come back from a run. It was the kind of energy Ethan tended to envy, especially today. He felt exhausted and about fifty years older than his actual age.

 

“Uh, I’m packing up,” he answered, concentrating more than he really needed to.

 

“Is Amelia okay?”

 

For a second, Ethan wanted to lie. He wanted to say she’d gotten sick in the night and he’d called someone in to take her back. But what was the point? Whatever had been between them was broken now and he needed to put that out there. Otherwise who knew how tempted he’d be to take her back?

 

“She left last night,” he said shortly. “I think that she went back home, but she didn’t really say.”

 

Ryan’s face went slack with shock for just a second and then he pulled it back together. “Jesus, are you serious?”

 

“Yeah,” Ethan answered. “I am.”

 

“Shit,” Taylor said from the other side, shielding his lighter with his hand as he joined them. “You think she was just here to get some dirt?”

 

“I honestly don’t have a fucking clue,” Ethan said, yanking the stakes out of the ground. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“I don’t think she was, though,” Penelope said.

 

“Yeah, but we don’t know that, babe,” Taylor said. “She could have--”

 

“She’s running,” Penelope cut in. “Because she’s been hurt.”

 

“I didn’t do a damn thing to her!” Ethan said more vehemently than he had planned.

 

“Okay, but maybe somebody else did,” Penelope said, her hand tightening on Taylor’s. “It’s hard to believe that things can be good if they’ve been bad for a long damn time.”

 

Ethan dropped to his knees, pushing the tent down into its bag. That made sense, but it made it so much harder to hold onto his anger. He needed the anger to get him through. “Yeah, well,” he said. It was probably the weakest attempt at an argument he’d ever given.

 

“Yeah, well,” Penelope repeated. “Don’t take it personally until you know it’s personal. That’s all I’m saying.”

 

Ethan’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it. The text wasn’t from Amelia, though. He was let down for a second, but then confusion took over.

 

“Huh,” he said. “It’s William.”

 

“Yeah?” Jimmy and Kenny had joined Ryan and Taylor. It was practically a meeting.

 

“Yeah,” Ethan said. “He says he wants to meet up tonight at headquarters. So, I would have had to head out anyway.”

 

“We’ll let the rest of them know,” Kenny said. “No need to worry about any of the rest of it.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, slinging his luggage onto the back of the bike and strapping it down. He was glad that Kenny was always ready to step up at the last minute. “Don’t get too crazy without me here to watch you.”

 

“I’ll cancel the hookers,” Ryan said. “See you tomorrow.”

 

Ethan pulled his helmet on and revved the bike. Maybe the long ride back would calm him down, but he doubted it could do much for the fact that he wouldn’t have Amelia’s arms around him.

 

# # #

 

Ethan walked into his house and dropped the leather travel bag onto the living room floor. It made thud that seemed to reverberate around the small house. He’d gotten so used to being greeted by Amelia that the emptiness of the rooms he’d become so accustomed to before her grated on his strained nerves. Had his house always been this damn quiet?

 

All the little touches were still there. The coffee cup she’d commandeered for her tea sat on the table in front of the couch. One of his hoodies was hanging over the arm of the couch, too. She usually got cold in the mornings. He picked up the gray shirt. It was halfway to his nose before he caught himself.

 

What in the hell was he doing? He balled the hoodie up and headed down the hall to his tiny washer and dryer. He threw the hoodie in as hard as he could. Then he grabbed the laundry basket and went around the house, grabbing anything and everything that he could find that might have captured her scent. He even stripped the bed, leaving the pillows on the floor where they landed.

 

He threw all of it into the washing machine with the hoodie and doused it in the old laundry detergent that Amelia didn’t like. Then he looked around for something else to do. The trouble was, he couldn’t find anything.

 

He dug his phone out of the luggage and sent William a text.

 

Where do you want to meet?

 

The reply was so quick that he knew William must have been waiting for the question.

 

HQ, after I get off of work. It’ll be late.

 

Fine by me. Just give me a call.

 

For all Ethan knew, William was going to show up and turn in his colors tonight. That was the last thing Ethan wanted. For one thing, William was the only remaining member who’d rode with his dad. Losing him would be like losing all that remained of the original The Angel’s Keepers.

 

For another, Ethan really hated the thought of having bad blood with the older man. He respected William. At least, he respected William for the most part and he knew he only wanted what was best for the club. He’d overstepped his boundaries this time, but his heart was in the right place.

 

And hell, after this morning, Ethan wasn’t sure the man had overstepped. Maybe Amelia was telling her father everything she knew about the motorcycle club. Not that there was much to say.

Either way, Ethan had to get out of the house. There was no way that he could stand the silence any longer.

 

# # #

 

“I thought you were off with your club for the weekend.” Leah, the front desk organizational machine at the mechanic shop said when he walked in.

 

“Tell me someone didn’t call in and I’ll head back home right now,” Ethan challenged, not wanting to answer the implied question. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and waited.

 

“Are you joking?” she asked. “We’re down by not one, but two guys today. Casey hurt his shoulder again, poor guy. And Jeremy is probably either sleeping one off or tying one on, but the point is that he’s not here.” She pushed her hair back and went on, typing up an invoice while they spoke. “I’m not saying I’m not glad to see you, Ethan, but what are you doing here?”

 

He winked at her. “We'll just agree to say that I’m a mind reader and I’ll get to work, how about that? What’s first on the list?”

 

“If you’re up for a challenge, we’ve got a ‘65 Mustang sitting back there that’s acting up. Nobody can figure out what the problem is.”

 

“Now that sounds perfect,” Ethan said eagerly. “Thanks, Leah, you’re a hell of a woman.”

 

“Shut up, Ethan, I know. Have fun with the Mustang.”

 

Hours later, his lower back was killing him. His hand ached from where he’d smacked it against the engine block turning a stubborn bolt. He smelled like transmission fluid and he was covered in a light but thorough coating of oil and grease. And the Mustang hummed perfectly, without skipping a beat.

 

Ethan glanced around the shop, but everyone else had gone home, so there was no one to brag to. It still felt pretty good, though. It was nice to have one thing go his way today.

 

As he cleaned off the tools he’d used and began to put them back where they belonged, he purposefully kept his mind on the relatively mundane task. It helped that he seemed to be the only one in the whole damn shop that could manage to put things back where they belonged. Tonight, he was actually grateful that he worked with a crew of total slobs.

 

It was nearly midnight and the shop was organized to within an inch of its life when Ethan’s phone finally rang.

 

“Yeah?” he said.

 

“Headed over to HQ,” William barked. “I’ll meet you there in about twenty minutes.”

 

“Sounds fine.” Ethan disconnected the call and took one last glance around the shop for anything else that needed to be put away because hell, he wasn’t at William’s beck and call. When he didn't find anything out of place, he wiped his hands, set the alarm, and tugged the rolling door down after him. He really hoped this was going to go well, but if it didn’t...well...what was one more shitty development in the grand scheme of things?