I lean back and brush my fingers across her neck and bury them in her thick hair. I flinch when she wipes my cheeks off and realize she’s the one cleaning my tears away.
“It’s okay to be sad when someone you love breaks you.” She lays her forehead against mine, and I tug her closer to me. Jo wraps her legs around my hips, and her touch has my soul settling.
Someone I love might have broken me, but someone I’m falling in love with just might heal me too.
The drive back to the clubhouse is silent. The devastation pouring off Eric is choking me, so I can’t imagine how suffocated he must feel.
“She killed for me,” Eric says in the silence, the headlights eating the black pavement as we drive down Loneliest Road.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“My mom,” he clarifies, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turn white, but his grip on my hand is gentle and loose. “My dad, he was an abusive asshole. I wouldn’t get a good grade, or I wouldn’t say the right thing, or I wouldn’t clean the kitchen floor until he could see his reflection; he’d tie me to the bed and cut me. He was a doctor, so he’d use his scalpel.”
I gasp and remember the tease of scars I saw on his back earlier today. “He did that to you? But, there are so many, and they are so deep…”
“He did it all the time. He’d wait until I healed just enough and then punish me again. My mom, she was great. She was everything a mom should be. She was a criminal defense attorney, so she worked a lot, but she always made time for me. When the school would call her and tell her what a great job I did, she’d praise me, but anything less than an A, my father would cut me. The last time…” His jaw flexes, and a shiver runs through his body. He readjusts himself like something is bothering him. He won’t let his back touch the seat. “The last time was the worst. He kept cutting and cutting. It hurt so damn bad. He pulled down my pants and cut me on my ass. He accused me of being gay, swore he’d show me what being a “bottom bitch” would be like. My mom came home just in time. She knocked on the door, and Dad acted like he was asleep. He threatened me, telling me to stay quiet. Mom knew something was going on. She kicked the door in with a gun in her hand, and she shot him in the shoulders, the knees, and eventually killed him when she saw what he did to me. She felt so bad because she ignored her gut feeling for a long time, thinking it was all in her head. She called one of her previous clients, Demon’s Fury Philadelphia Chapter, and they came over and took care of the body, and their doc stitched me up.”
“That’s why you’re a doctor.”
“No. I’m a doctor because I wanted to be the one with the fucking scalpel. I wanted the control.” His forearm tightens as he holds onto the wheel, reminding me of a braided rope. “There’s something else too, something only my mom knows and Reaper, but that’s it. It’s one of my secrets. It’s one that I want to take to my grave because I don’t want to be associated with them, okay? This stays between us, please?” Eric’s breath is as strong as an earthquake, vibrating his chest as he shakes.
“Eric, of course. You can trust me. I’d never hurt you like that,” I admit, squeezing his hand in reassurance.
He remains silent, staring at the windshield.
“What is it?” I prod.
“Please, know that I’m not him, okay?”
“I know that, Eric. You are far from being the monster your father was.”
He side-eyes me and unclasps my hand to grip the wheel, then lean his left elbow against the driver’s side door. I miss the warmth of his palm against mine already. He feels like he needs space and I have to respect that until he tells me what is on his mind. “My dad was the doctor for the Ruthless Kings Atlantic City Chapter. I’m a legacy.”
For a moment, all I can hear is the hum of the tires and the hair on my arms prickling on my skin from the air conditioning blowing through the vents. My heart is a sledgehammer, pounding with violence against bone to try and break me all over again.
I stare at Eric’s profile and analyze him. This is a man who keeps saving me from myself. He is nothing like those men. I don’t fear him. My heart isn’t missing its beats because I’m afraid of Eric, but from hearing their name again.
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, unable to stand the quiet between us.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I finally say. “You aren’t him. You aren’t them. You’re better. You’re…” I roll my lips together, searching for the right word. “You’re my guardian angel while they were my prison guards.”
It’s the only way I know how to explain it.
Eric is a healer for all people, but he is a savior for me.
I feel sick that someone would do that to their child. I could never do that to mine if I ever had a kid. My stomach flutters, and an overwhelming emotion takes over, threatening more tears. I’ve cried more in the last few days than I ever have, but right now, I realize if I had an abortion, I would be a harm to my child like Eric’s father was to him. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry he didn’t love you like you needed. God, I am devastated for you.” I bring his hand to my lips and kiss the knuckles. I can’t kiss him while he’s driving. “You deserve all the love, Eric. More than anyone can give.”
I’m not paying attention to the road, but the truck slows and stops moving. I glance up from our hands and see he’s pulled off to the side. He turns in his seat, cheeks red, eyes puffy from the breakdown at his mom’s house. His fingers stroke my cheek, and he stares at me… I don’t know how to explain it. There is so much emotion behind it.
“Thank you,” he says. The gravel in his throat makes his voice deeper. “I’m a little lost right now. My mom has been my anchor. I’m not as independent as everyone makes me out to be. My mom is the sounding board, the fucking grit, the wisdom. I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”
“I’ll help you figure it out,” I whisper, leaning into his touch and soaking it in. I’ve never had a touch like this before. So caring, so soft, so timid. It’s like he never wants to stop touching me, and I never want him to. Is this what we’ve been ignoring? Why? He makes me feel … new.
A new person.
A new woman.
Stronger. Smarter.
And less afraid.
“I want to figure this out with you.” He moves his hand from my face and lays it across my stomach. “I need you to be honest. I need a battle I can win, and I know I can win this for you.”
I lay my hand over his and swallow. “I wish I could tell you more. I only see flashes.”
“I want to help you with this too.” He rubs his thumb across the bandage on my wrist.
“One fight at a time,” I admit. “I’ll tell you what I know about that night. I have… had, I guess…” I correct myself, thinking about that night. “I had a friend, his name was Brody. I went to his apartment for a party. I took a drink from him, and I had no reason not to trust him. He was always nice. We studied together. I took the drink, and everything after that… I can’t tell if it’s a dream or if it happened. I remember him over me, but I can’t remember feeling anything. I remember a bad feeling, right here.” I point to my stomach. “I woke up the next day and I was home; that’s all, Eric. I swear. I didn’t want to have sex with anyone. Not unless—” I stop myself from admitting that the only person I ever thought of having sex with was Eric.