Is this the first time I’ve held a woman for anything other than during sex? I think it might be.
Suddenly she gasps. “I’m so sorry.” She tries to get away from me. I raise my arms, letting her get free, then move off the bed and stand with my hands held up defensively so I don’t intimidate her.
“Nothing to apologise for. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Rookie mistake. She was bound to have bad dreams after her ordeal.
“Please, don’t leave me.” The dream’s still got her in its grasp of terror. “Please, I was alone so long.”
Fuck. She was. I run my hands over my skull, feeling out of my depth. “I won’t leave you, Cat,” I promise. “But I’d like to get some food going. You need something, and well, I haven’t eaten in a while.”
“I’ll get up—”
“Nah,” I say fast. “I’ll do it. You just need to get your rest.” I notice she blanches at this and change my mind. “Tell you what, how about I bring you downstairs? You can keep me company while I get something together.” Her brow furrows, and her bottom lip trembles. “What’s up?”
“C-C-Caspar.”
“Darlin’, I buried him, okay?” I washed the blood up as well. I knew it would do her no favours to have to deal with the days’ old corpse of her pet. “He’s under the apple tree. You can go say goodbye to him there when you’re stronger.”
Her chin drops to her chest. Her good hand wipes tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I wish he was here.”
I have nothing to say, so I try to stay practical. “Let’s get you dressed, then we’ll go downstairs. You got sweats or something comfy?”
She seems to still be thinking of her lost dog. I have to enquire again before she tells me, “In those drawers.”
I open them. In the top one I find underwear and extract a clean pair of panties, choosing plain white and avoiding looking through the lace which another time might intrigue me. In a lower drawer, I find a t-shirt, and in the one below, some stretchy leggings.
I pass them to her.
“No bra?”
“Don’t bother on my account. You need to be comfy.” My shrug shows I’m thinking of her. It doesn’t matter one way or another to me. It was only hours ago I’d held her naked in the tub, and in the condition she’s in, she’s not going to arouse me sexually. “I’ll leave you. Give me a call when you’re ready.”
I stand sentry outside in the hall. After a moment, I hear some grunts and groans, and a muttered curse.
“You okay?” When she doesn’t answer, I put my head around the door. She’s managed to get her underwear on, but her leggings are stuck around her knees. As for the top, she’s got her good arm in. Her face is wet with tears.
Weakness. That’s what’s making her cry.
“Hey, let me help.” She squeals and tries to cover herself. I’m not put off. “Cat, I was holding you naked in the bath earlier, you’ve got nothing I haven’t already seen.” I didn’t take advantage earlier, and I certainly won’t now. I don’t say the words, but they hang in the air.
Stepping back inside, I eye her clinically. “Lift your ass, and I’ll pull these up.” I bunch my hands in the material around her knees.
“I feel so goddamn weak,” she complains with another sob, but she does as I suggest.
Eyeing her sleeve, I analyse the problem, and curl up the loose material, stretching it wide so she can put her injured arm through the cuff. Then it’s a simple matter of pulling it the rest of the way up. Once she’s decent, I lift her.
Her good hand clutches at me as though I’m going to drop her. I won’t. She weighs barely anything at all. Still, I watch my step as I go down the staircase. At the bottom, I gently place her on the couch.
She struggles to get up.
“Stay there.” My voice is firm. I wait a second, but the snap in my voice seems to have stunned her into compliance.
Confident she’s going to obey me, I go back in the kitchen, opening more soup and heating it for her. Finding a tray, I place the bowl and spoon on it, add a fresh bottle of water, and take it back to her.
Her face lights up, then she frowns. “Why are you doing this for me?”
Why? Because I’m a bastard. Because what I should have done was call the paramedics so she could be cared for properly. But that would negate the reason I’m here. The reason is that I want to question her, to get to the bottom of what she knows and what’s her involvement with Tiny.
While I still harbour suspicions that she might have been working with Tiny, it seems out of character. I’d more likely hazard a guess she’s not part of his plot, that this is a loose thread that’s not going to further unravel, but I need to be sure. While it’s not much, it’s information I can take back to Utah.
As I watch her lift the spoon to her mouth, I realise there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to go, and it’s not because of the punishment I’m due to be facing.
Returning to the kitchen, I take two steaks out of the freezer, placing them into the microwave for defrosting. I lean on the counter, looking out into the paddock where her horse is grazing peacefully. It hits me that I’ve never had a chance to stop and slow down. It feels like I’ve been running forever.
When my mom left home, I slept with one eye open, always wary of my father’s fists that could descend for no reason. Joining the Navy meant I was running to keep up, always trying to prove I was worthy of earning the Trident. On ops, as part of a team, there was little downtime, or not when you could switch off completely. Even shore leave had me making the most of the moments on familiar soil.
Joining the MC, prospecting, well, I couldn’t be caught sleeping. Even as a patched member, there was always work to be done, even in between missions. I was pre-programmed never to be found wanting, of giving everything my all. It had once been the only way to keep my dad from hitting me.
Staring out of the window, it dawns on me—the peaceful scene is totally alien and sums up what’s been missing from my life. Maybe I could stay for a while. I’ll remove her name and details from the vacation booking so the Utah brothers don’t come looking for her and find me. I’m off the radar, using a name they’ll never discover. Time, space, a chance to switch off, maybe that’s what I can find in Kentucky.
While I’m here, I can make one hundred percent certain any legacy Tiny left was buried with him. That assurance will be my currency for buying my way back in when I eventually return to the club. If, in the end, that’s what I want.
Cat may not want me to stay.
A half-smile appears on my face. I’ll just have to find a way to persuade her. That she hasn’t requested me to contact a friend or family member suggests she, like me, is a loner. As such, maybe she’ll see we should stick together.
When the microwave beeps, I turn the meat over, then go back to the living room and the woman on the couch. She’s emptied the bowl completely and is now drinking the water, sipping it carefully, just like I’d suggested.
“I’ve got steaks out of the freezer. You think you’ll be able to eat?”
“I’m full.” She glances down at her bowl.