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He sighs heavily and locks the door behind us. His knuckles are busted and instead of getting back into bed, he jumps in the shower, while I sit on the corner of the mattress trying not to think about Mark sitting in the garage, likely injured, unemployed and apparently blackmailed. I know I shouldn’t feel bad, he’s done nothing but lie and use me, but it’s not like we can keep him down there forever. I trust River. I know he’s just doing what he is supposed to. And I accept him for who he is. But does my first test of faith have to be with my ex-boyfriend?
I get back into bed, but sleep doesn’t come.
Chapter Eighteen
River
I know I should have played it smarter, but when Romeo told me Mark was found creeping around our clubhouse, I just grabbed him and lost my shit. How dare he come here? He either has balls of fucking steel or no sense at all, and I’m thinking it’s the latter.
He gave up the information pretty quickly, and knowing he doesn’t work for the FBI anymore makes me feel better about what he has on Bella. I have a feeling there’s more to this story, though, and he’s not leaving until we get to the bottom of it.
Do I hate that Bella saw me hitting him?
Yes.
I wanted to hide that side of myself from her for as long as I could. It would kill me if she’s scared, or thinks that I’m a monster.
She hasn’t asked to leave, though, so maybe it didn’t scare her too much. Although she seemed too worried about her ex-boyfriend for my liking.
Fuck.
Is this being in love?
Overthinking every damn thing and constantly wondering if you’re good enough?
Just fucking great.
If I were a better man, I would have left Bella well alone, but I’m not. She’s in bed when I leave the bathroom, and I get in next to her. I’ll deal with Mark tomorrow, and I’ll figure out what the fuck we’re going to do with him. But for now I should try to get some rest.
I don’t know if I should hug her like I usually would, or if she’s mad and doesn’t want me to. Man, I hate this shit.
I slowly get closer to her, and when she doesn’t move away or tell me to leave her alone, I pull her against my body, spooning her from behind, feeling relief that she’s letting me. I don’t know what I’d do if she ever decided to walk away from me.
I’d do anything to keep her.
When I wake up in the morning it’s to an empty bed, and I have a moment of panic wondering if she left on her own and went home. I run out in my boxer shorts, but come to a stop when I see her in the kitchen with Julianna, having coffee, the two of them chatting among themselves.
“I heard you had a busy night,” Julianna says when she looks up and sees me standing there. “And nice of you to get dressed up for breakfast.”
“Where’s Romeo?” I ask, but my eyes are on Bella, who is now looking right back at me.
“He’s with the prisoner. Still can’t believe I slept through all that,” Julianna grumbles, taking a sip from her mug. She then stands up and walks past me. “I hope you have a plan for the ex-boyfriend.”
I don’t, but thanks to her for pointing that out.
“Are you okay?” I ask Bella when we’re alone. “I’m sorry about last night. I know it must have been scary for you and I should have handled the situation better.”
She nods slowly. “It could have been handled better, yes. But I understand things work differently around here, and I just want the whole thing to be over with. Did I like seeing you hurt someone? No. Did I like seeing Mark get hurt? No. And not because I care about him or anything like that—I wouldn’t want to see anyone I know get hit. I don’t...enjoy seeing that stuff.” She pauses, and then asks, “Do you? Because you looked like you were in your element.”
I don’t know how to answer that, because I’m not sure if I’ve ever admitted the truth about it, or even fully understand how I feel about it. “I do what needs to be done. That’s my job as club enforcer.”
“And you enjoy your job as club enforcer,” she presses, and I don’t know what she wants from me, but when I think about it honestly, yes, I do enjoy it.
“And if I do?”
“Then you’re being honest,” she replies, standing up and walking over to me. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“And does that change anything for you? How you feel about it?” I ask, holding my breath as I wait for her reply.
