With my knuckles taped, I punched and kicked the bag until my breathing turned ragged and my skin misted with sweat. With each blow, I pictured Jensen’s and Stone’s faces until a smile pulled at my lips as I envisioned beating the holy hell out of the two men in my life who were doing my head in.
I loved the feel of my muscles staining, of knowing I was pushing my body to the max as the rage that had been building up inside of me began to burn off.
The sound of pipes cut through my calm, causing my fury to bubble up again. I kept my back to the open garage door, hitting and kicking the bag harder as the deep rumble of a motorcycle grew louder as it pulled into my driveway before the engine finally cut off.
“Unless you’ve come back to apologize, I don’t want to hear it,” I panted, landing a hard right hook. “And don’t think for a second I won’t use your face as a punching bag, asshole.”
“I don’t doubt that one bit,” a voice I hadn’t been expecting said.
I whipped around so fast the bun on the top of my head wobbled, causing some of the strands to come loose. Time started to move in slow motion as Jensen climbed from a Harley Fat Boy. His well-muscled thighs bunched beneath the faded denim of his jeans as he threw his leg over and planted his motorcycle-boot-clad feet on the ground. His biceps strained against the cotton of his simple white tee as he reached up to remove the mirrored aviators that covered his face and hook them in the collar of his shirt.
He’d had a bike back in the day as well, after he broke away from his parents to start a life with me, leaving the G-Class behind. He’d hooked his wagon to a chick who’d grown up surrounded by bikers. I loved everything about riding, and my love had rubbed off on him in a really big way. Scooter and his whole crew were bikers. Banks, Danno, Fletch, Judge. Hell, it was such a way of life that even their kids fell into it. I loved all things motorcycle. Cannon was a biker to his very soul. Even though Stone hadn’t lived in Redemption in years—a biker town through-and-through—he was born and bred a biker and was still one to this day.
When my family brought my man into the fold, that bug grew to the point it could no longer be ignored. We hadn’t had a lot money-wise back then since Jensen refused to dip into the trust his grandfather had set up for him and wasn’t exactly raking it in working as a mechanic for Cannon’s father, Banks. Still, the old Triumph he’d gotten when he turned nineteen had been his pride and joy. Some of my best memories involved riding on the back of that bike with him, my arms wrapped tightly around his stomach as the wind whipped around my face, placing its stinging kisses on my cheeks. Riding with him had been pure heaven. No other way to describe it.
When I’d turned up pregnant a few years later, he’d traded it in for a truck, saying it wasn’t practical for him to have a bike when he’d need to be carting our kid around. Back then, I’d thought the day he’d gotten rid of it was one of the saddest days of my life. If only I’d known there would be so much worse down the road.
Since he’d been back, I’d seen him driving through town a handful of times in that same old beat-up truck. I hadn’t seen him on a bike in years, but seeing it now caused all those old feelings to rise to the surface.
So much for getting my power back.
With my chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, I lifted my arm to wipe the sweat from my forehead and gave him the same scowl I’d used earlier on Stone. “What are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to just show up here unannounced.”
“I’m know. I’m sorry. I just—”
“And besides, it’s not your day with Brantley. He’s not even here.”
His boots thudded against the concrete as he moved closer, coming to a stop just feet away, outside the open garage door. “That actually works out since I’m here because I need to talk to you.”
I let out a snort while rolling my eyes. “Pretty sure we said all there was left to say at Farah’s wedding.” I turned back to the bag, picturing Jensen’s face once again as I punched the hell out of it. “It’s done, so you can go now.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sunshine. We’re far from done.”
I jerked back around, my blood beginning to boil. “Stop calling me th—Hey! What the hell are you doing?” I finished on a shriek as Jensen’s shoulder collided with my gut just a second before I went airborne. Throwing me over his shoulder like I was a ragdoll, he started toward the house, his long strides eating up the distance quickly. “Put me down!” I shouted, beating at his back and butt, refusing to think about how firm his body was beneath my fists of fury or how strong he must be to lift me up and toss me around so easily. The big, stupid jerk wasn’t even winded. “Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t just—” My words were cut off when I went through the air again, this time landing on my butt in the middle of the couch with an oof.
“Like I said, we need to talk,” he stated calmly, standing in front of me with his hands propped casually on his trim hips.
“Are you crazy?”
“I’m determined. There’s a difference.”
A multitude of other emotions I couldn’t possibly begin to name warred inside of me as I narrowed my eyes and glared up at him, my rapid breathing having nothing to do with my earlier workout and everything to do with his close proximity. “You have no right to barge into my house whenever the hell you feel like it, Jensen. I don’t want you here. You need to leave.” My top lip curled up in a sneer. “You’re good enough at it, so walking out that door right now shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
His eyes locked on mine, the storm raging inside of them blasting into me. “Leaving you was the hardest goddamn thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“Bullshit,” I hissed. My chest suddenly felt like an elephant had sat on it. It was a painful struggle to breathe, and that stupid burn behind my eyes made a reappearance.
“You might not want to believe that, but Shane, baby, I swear, it’s the truth. If you’d just—”
I lifted my hand, palm out, to stop him. I would have given anything to believe what he was saying right then. I’d spent so long denying the truth to myself that all it did was cause more agony. I still remembered that day with vivid accuracy: the day my whole world came crashing down around me, the day I realized it had all been a lie.
Humiliation coursed through my veins at the memory, making my skin heat from my chest to my cheeks, burning so hot it was a wonder I didn’t turn to ash right then and there. The worst part was, he hadn’t even had the balls to deliver the crushing blow of ending us himself. He’d had his parents do it, the only two people on the face of the earth I could claim to truly hate.
The heat in my cheeks intensified when I turned my head, unable to meet his gaze for another second, and took in my surroundings. If I hadn’t been enough for him back then, I could only imagine what he was thinking, seeing the state of my life now. That thought was just too much to bear.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I said through the ball that had formed in my throat, making the words come out in a croak. Moving back to the couch, I plopped down and dropped my face into my hands, feeling the weariness of defeat down to my bones. “Please, Jensen. Just go.”