“Holy shit, yes! I remember reading that. What was that girl’s name? Emma something, right?”
“Yeah, Emma Harrington.”
“That’s right. That article was absolutely incredible, and we will make room for her.”
“Perfect,” I say, nodding at Carly as a smile curves my lips, and her eyes widen further.
“Why don’t you both start on Monday?”
“That sounds great, Mercedes. Thank you so much.” I quickly say good-bye, and when I hang up, Carly punches me in the arm.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she says, still looking shocked. “You could have lost the job trying to get me one.”
I shake my head. “I have it on pretty good authority that she wanted me really bad, besides, don’t act like you don’t want to leave the paper, too. And now you can.”
She finally smiles at me, shaking her head in disbelief. “Holy crap, I’m so excited. I’m gonna call Mr. Klein and tell him where to shove it.”
I laugh as she jumps off the couch and marches off into the kitchen to quit her job. I’m happy that I could do this for her and even more happy that we’ll still be working together. I take a sip of my wine and sigh. I guess here’s to the universe stepping in and shaking up my world.
Chapter Seven
Storm
I’m acting like a fucking chick. What kind of man stands at his kitchen window, desperate to get a glimpse of his insanely hot neighbor? And yet, here I am. My window looks directly into her living room and just behind that is her kitchen. My gaze keeps being pulled back to that spot where I bandaged her knee up today, remembering the way that I was drawn to her like she’s a goddamn siren. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I was heading for disaster. The moment I looked at her, I wanted to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck her until I couldn’t stand anymore, but it’s more than that. I’m dying for just a flash of her face, just one second where I feel like I can breathe again. I want to drown in her blue eyes because it erases the pain that’s constantly beating under my skin like a heartbeat.
I shouldn’t be doing this. A long time ago, I promised myself that I would never let anyone else get close to me. Resisting her is going to be a battle, and even after just meeting her a few hours ago, I fear it’s a battle I’m going to lose. But I can’t. It’s better for everyone that I stay away from her. Even if her smile chases away demons that I thought would haunt me forever.
“Shit,” I curse, pulling my phone out of my pocket and calling Streak, the club’s tech guru. He’s been with us for four years, and the guy can find anything about anyone.
“What’s up, Brother?” he answers, and I only have a moment to remind myself that I shouldn’t do this before I’m answering him.
“I need you to look into someone.”
“Absolutely,” he practically shouts into the phone, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He lives for this shit. “What do you know about ‘em? And what do you want?”
“Her name is Ali, she’s a reporter, and she lives next door to me. That’s really all I know, and I want everything you can find.”
The phone falls silent, and I pull it away to make sure he’s still on the line. When I press it back to my ear, the only sound is the clicking of keys. “Is this, uh, personal?”
“Yeah.”
“She important?” he asks, hesitantly.
“Just get me the information,” I growl into the phone before hanging up on him. I swear to God, these fucking bikers gossip worse than old women but my life and my past have never been acceptable topics. Everyone knows that.
Turning away from the window, I lean back on the counter and cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to resist the urge to go back over there. I could lie and say that I just wanted to check on her but the truth is, I need to see her. I just want this weight lifted off me, even if it is only temporary. I need to know if being around her makes the act of living a little easier to bear. It’s so fucking selfish and fucked up, but I’m afraid that I’m already past the point of caring. My gaze lands on the nails in the wall where pictures once hung, and the pain is back in full force, throbbing throughout my entire body as I think about all the reasons why I’ll never be truly happy again.
I don’t need to go into the living room and pull the photos that used to adorn all the walls in this house out of boxes, because the face in them is already burned into my memory. I’ll never forget. It will never get easier. This is my hell, and not even death will ease the torment – not like I deserve any better. I deserve every single ounce of pain that this world can dish onto my plate, and even when my life ends, it won’t be enough. I took something so good and pure, so full of life and love, and in my own stupidity, I destroyed it. Maybe not directly, but through my inaction, I might as well have.
I wasn’t always like this but after years in darkness, I adapted to survive. The only way to make it out of it at all was to twist and contort myself until I was just as bad as the thing that put me in there. To strip away pieces of my soul until I had nothing left. I feel nothing. Except the pain. After all this time, I am a monster and monsters belong in hell.
A girl like Ali deserves so much more than a man like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially her. But I don’t know that I care. Or if I’m even able to stay away. She makes me feel something other than pain and misery for the first time in a long time, and I may already be addicted to that.
A car door slams outside, and I spin around, watching as an attractive woman walks up to Ali’s house and goes inside. Sighing, I turn around and grab my phone off the counter, knowing that I won’t go over there now. I quickly check the time and start heading for the door. I’m going to be late for church, and I’m sure Blaze will be pissed but I just couldn’t walk away. Yanking open the front door, a large yellow envelope falls at my feet, and I look down, the hair on my neck raising as I slowly look up and scan the street in front of me. Everything looks normal, and I feel like I’m going a little crazy. I’ve been vigilant, watching for whoever has been following me but I never fucking see them.
Bear lets out a low growl behind me, sensing my unease and nudges against my leg as he peers out the door. I reach down and scoop up the envelope, slamming the door, and locking it before I grab the gun out of my waistband and set it on my dining room table. After sliding into the chair, I pull out the contents of the package and start flipping through this new batch of photos.
“Shit,” I hiss when I get to the last ten or so. They are all of Ali today as I carried her up to her porch and helped her clean up her yard. What was this? Like, two hours ago…how the fuck did they get them so fast? The photos fall out of my hand, and I prop my elbows up on the table and rest my head against my fists, my knee bouncing under the table.
Fuck. What the hell was I thinking? It makes me so fucking uncomfortable to see the photos of her, knowing that I led whoever the fuck this is right to her. It may make me a shitty ass person but I should have just stayed away. She wouldn’t even be on this person’s radar if I had. Even thinking that though, makes it hard to breathe. I don’t want to stay away from her. And then the guilt is back, reminding me of all the reasons that I should stay far, far away from her. It’s like a war is raging inside me, each side pulling at me until I’m afraid that I’ll tear right down the middle.