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I understand the wariness in her eyes when she looks at me sometimes. Those aren’t the looks that keep me going. It’s the way sometimes her walls crumble and I can see our future shining back at me in the way she looks at me. The way I know her heart is already mine, no matter how hard she tries to deny it.
I know the truth. She does too, but fear can be powerfully strong. It’s a damn good thing I’m even stronger.
I swear my chest puffs up with pride because she’s almost done with her physical therapy. My woman has worked so damn hard for months. I know it’s been painful at times, and she’s wanted to throw away all her progress more than once, but she hasn’t. She dug in and kept it moving.
Do I wish she would let me in a little more and vent to me about how hard it’s been? You better fucking believe it. She’s let her walls down a few times, but not nearly enough for me.
I remember the first time she did it about a month into her physical therapy. The sadness, pain, and frustration in her eyes when I picked her up had my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, but she was sending a strong ‘don’t fucking touch me’ vibe out.
When I met Devin’s eyes, he gave a subtle head shake, probably warning me not to push her and not to ask. I wasn’t going to let some other man influence my relationship with my woman. I approached her slowly, hating the way she wouldn’t look into my eyes.
My voice was gruff, “You good, firefly?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
She wouldn’t look at Devin as he confirmed their next therapy appointment, my heart aching with how fucking defeated my woman was. She was silent the entire drive home, not even giving me shit about my high-handedness that day, something she seemed to love doing.
Hell, she tried to fight me on everything, especially when I took her home to my place and wouldn’t hear a word about her going to her apartment. There was no way in hell I was going to leave her alone to deal with her recovery. Not only did she need help, but I wasn’t going to be able to handle not having her at my side to make sure she was okay. I knew she would be comfortable at my place; I was going to make sure of it.
When she wasn’t fighting me, I knew I needed to push her a little bit more to get her to open up. I needed to see the fire back in her eyes. She needed it to get through her recovery.
I let her stew until we walked through my front door, then I gently grabbed her elbow to stop her from going to her room and hiding. It killed me not to have her in my room, but it’s what she insisted on. As she turned toward me slowly, her eyes looked dull and lifeless; it gutted me.
There was a challenge in my voice, “You giving up, Sioux?”
She sighed and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of the world. “Don’t give me shit,” there wasn’t any bite to her words. “I’m just tired.”
“I get it,” I tried to placate her.
Something sparked in her eyes. “You don’t get it,” she gritted out through her teeth. I had to stop myself from taking a step back when she took a step closer to me. She brought our bodies so close there was barely any distance between us, but for the wrong fucking reasons. “I want to just give up, but I can’t. I won’t.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, needing more from her. “I might not have gone through exactly what you have Sioux, but I’ve been shot before.”
Her eyes widened and she took a step back from me. I hated it and hooked an arm around her waist to pull her closer, this time not allowing even a breath of space between us. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard, and her breathing became shallow.
She sounded wary and a little scared, “You’ve been shot before?”
“Yes. You know I’m an enforcer for the club. That can be dangerous.” I keep my explanation simple; anything other than that would be club business. I could see the questions swirling in her eyes, but this conversation wasn’t about me. “I haven’t needed surgery or had to do physical therapy like you’re doing. Talk to me,” I pleaded.
Her eyes slid closed for a moment and the pain etched on her face, as her walls crumbled, gutted me. I could see it all there when she opened her beautiful blue eyes and looked up at me—the anguish, the pain, the overwhelming feeling like nothing is going to be the same again.
“It hurts,” she whimpered as she let me have all her weight. “It hurts so fucking much. I feel like I don’t have control over anything. I’m sick of being asked if I’m okay or what they can do to help. It makes me feel like a burden, like I’m weak.” I open my mouth to tell her that weak is the last thing she is, but she shakes her head sharply. “Don’t. Don’t give me platitudes and pretty words, Apostle.”
I cupped her face with one of my hands, loving the way she looked so small in comparison. “I would never blow smoke up your ass, Sioux,” I promised her. “You are not a burden,” I gritted out through clenched teeth.
The thought of her feeling that way was pissing me off. I hated it. I wished it wasn’t just a feeling so I could beat the shit out of it, but I knew I couldn’t. All I could give her was my truth.
Her eyes hardened and I knew whatever she was going to say was only going to piss me off more; not at her, but at her situation. Before she could say anything, I barreled right over her. “You sure as fuck aren’t weak either. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, firefly,” my voice softened at the end.
Her eyes welled up with tears and my heart cracked fucking open in my chest. Even when she woke up after having surgery, even when she remembered being shot and by who, even when she was starting to battle getting back to healthy, she hadn’t cried. She stood strong like a fucking goddess, but seeing tears in her eyes only made her more beautiful to me.
“I want to give up,” her voice cracked.
“Then give it to me,” I murmured softly and pulled her even tighter against my chest. “My shoulders are broad, and I’ve never been more grateful for how strong I am because that means I can carry this burden for you. It won’t take away your pain,” I closed my eyes and tipped my head toward the ceiling, “I wish like fuck it could, but I can sure as hell carry some of what weighs you down.”
“Then I’ll rely on you,” her voice was soft and wary.
My eyes snapped open, and I looked down at her with narrowed eyes. “You think that’ll take away your independence?” She nodded slowly and I scoffed. “Getting some help and leaning on someone won’t make you less of the badass force you are.”
