Page 67 of Seeking Peace

"What?"

"I want this place to be our home. You, Bellamy, and me."

"You…you want me to live here with you?"

"Where I go, you go, Vita Mia." Blake cups my face in the palms of his hands. "So, what do ya say, baby? You want to go on this crazy ride with me?"

I blink up at Blake with a watery smile. "Yes." Then he kisses me hard and deep.

For the next hour, Blake and a contractor hired by Kings Construction show us around the site, going over the floor plans. He asks my opinion on every detail, making sure I'm happy with his original vision of what he wants our future home to look like. By the time the tour is over, I've already envisioned how each room will be decorated, which Blake said was up to me. His exact words were, "I don't give a shit about wall color and furniture. As long as I have a big bed to fuck you in, I don't care what you do with the rest."

Straddling his bike, Blake lights a cigarette and hands me my helmet. "You up for one more ride?"

I take the helmet from him and grin. "Absolutely."

* * *

When Blake asked me to ride with him, I wasn't expecting him to take me on a five-day trip to Georgia. Not that I was complaining. We stopped and saw many sights along the way, and Blake had booked some fantastic bed and breakfasts to crash in. Our trip served two purposes. First, Blake wanted some alone time with me. He said with all the chaos surrounding the club over the past few months, we haven't had a chance to be a couple without all the drama. He wanted to concentrate on being together without interruptions, which was sweet. The second reason was why I gave him the silent treatment on our third day on the road. I'll admit now my attitude toward him was childish. Blake rode out my antics, and in the end, I saw he was right. That led us here, to me standing on my parents' doorstep. I haven't set foot on this property in so long that it feels almost foreign. My family has lived in the same gated community since I was a little girl.

When we approached the gate, Blake pulled his phone out and texted Reid, who quickly helped him override the system. He also tapped into my parents' security system along with the neighbors, so there will be no trace we were ever here.

Now, Blake is hanging back by his bike in the driveway per my request. I need to do it on my own. Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand and ring the doorbell. My mouth is dry, and my stomach is in knots. But knowing the man I love is here gives me the courage to say what I came here to say. To get the closure I deserve.

A moment later, the door opens, and I come face-to-face with my mother. Dressed in her signature pantsuit and a string of pearls, she looks as she always has. The pleasant smile she has on her face drops when recognition sets in. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes rake over me. My mother takes in my tight jeans, motorcycle boots, and Harley tee. Her face twists in disgust when she sees the ink on my arms and the vibrant color of my hair. "I suggest you leave before your father sees you."

"I'm not going anywhere until I say what I've come here to say." I stand my ground.

"Who's at the door, dear?" My dad comes up behind my mother, placing a hand on her shoulder. His body goes rigid when he sees me standing here. "What the hell is the meaning of this? You have some nerve showing up at our house," he sneers.

I lose some nerve until my father's eyes flick over my shoulder, and I feel Blake's looming presence nearby. My dad visibly swallows, no doubt remembering his last encounter with Blake.

"Like I told Mom, I came here to say something to you two. Once I've said my piece, I'll go, and you'll never see me again."

My father lifts his nose in the air. "I don't have time for whatever this is."

"You'll make time," comes the rumbly voice behind me.

My father purses his lips but stays quiet.

"What I wanted to say isI forgive you." At my words, my mother jerks as though she's been slapped, but I continue. "I forgive you for being shitty parents. I forgive you for putting insane expectations on me at such a young age. I forgive you for caring more about what others thought than your daughters' feelings and well-being. I even forgive you for believing whatever bullshit story that asshole Devan made up when he took me on that trip to Vegas. The one where I called you and asked for help. The one where I tried to explain that he gambled away all his money and mine, and when he couldn't pay up, he offered me up on a silver platter instead. He left me in that bar with a bunch of criminals who had in mind to do god knows what with me."

I pause to catch my breath. "Instead, I want to thank you. Because of you, I could find my true family, who took me and gave me a safe haven, no questions asked. I know what you see when you look at me. The beauty of that is I don't give two fucks what you or anyone else thinks. Something you know nothing about." I peer over my shoulder at Blake, who is grinning with pride. "I have the kind of family who will have my back no matter how often I screw up. They are the kind of family who will walk through hell and back for the people they love." I turn back to my parents. "I have the kind of family who supports all my hopes and dreams. They will stand beside me through the good and the bad. Another thing you know nothing about." When I finish my speech, my father is ready to spit nails. As for my mother, she almost looks ashamed. Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk away from the past that's been suffocating me in silence, and I walk toward my future.

"We have one last stop, babe!" Blake yells over the rumble of the bike's motor. We head toward another location a few miles from my parents. This neighborhood is not gated, but it is just as pretentious. The motorcycle stands out like a sore thumb as we ride down several streets until he stops us in front of a large two-story home nestled into a cul-de-sac. I take in the picture-perfect landscape and imagine everything inside is decorated in various shades of beige. When my eyes land on the shiny brand-new black BMW sitting in the driveway, my gaze shifts to the tag that reads DEVAN#1.

"Fuckin' pussy," Blake quips.

"Is this…?" I clutch Blake's shoulders as a gamut of emotions slither through me, one of them being rage.

Blake leans down and unstraps the baseball bat he has rigged to the side of the bike. I noticed it there this morning but didn't question him about what it was for. "Payback's a bitch, and it's time this motherfucker antes up." Blake passes me the bat. I take it from him with blood rushing to my ears. God, I love this man. "Do your worst, baby."

Bat in hand, I walk up the driveway toward the shiny car. The whole trek up the driveway, that stupid plate mocks me. A scream tears through my throat as I strike the back end. The plate clatters to the concrete below. Next, I slam the bat into each one of the taillights. Tiny shards of red debris fly around my face. On a roll, I take out the left back passenger window before moving on to the driver's side. Adrenaline courses through my veins. I'm having an out-of-body experience with my rage. Time seems to slow as I shatter every window on Devan's precious car. I don't give a shit that it's not the same car he traded me for. It's what it represents. I repeatedly bring the bat down on the hood, doors, and trunk. I take out the side mirrors and the headlights. I'm knocked out of my terroristic euphoria when a man comes running out of the house in boxers and a t-shirt. Devan. Aside from the extra twenty pounds he's carrying around his midsection, he looks the same, and I can see the start of a receding hairline from where I'm standing.

"My car! What are you doing to my car!" he bellows. "I'm calling the police…" The threat dies on his tongue when he sees who's responsible for the damage to his vehicle. Devan's mouth falls open as recognition sets in. "Ember?"

I stare at the pathetic excuse of a man before me, my chest heaving with every breath I take. Without saying a single word, I raise the bat over my head. I maintain eye contact with Devan as I use every ounce of strength I have in me to smash out the windshield of his car. The coward doesn't so much as move as he gapes on in shock at the destruction I've caused. The driveway is littered with bits of plastic, metal, and shards of glass. Suddenly, the anger I felt moments ago dissipates, and calmness moves in. Pushing my hair out of my face, I smile. "Good to see ya, Devan." With that, I turn and walk back up the drive, leaving my ex with his mouth hanging open. Blake, who is sitting relaxed on his bike and smoking a cigarette, grins as I approach. When I'm within reach, he grips the back of my neck and kisses me. "Feel better?" He takes the bat from me, and I climb on behind him. Blake had his closure the day he watched his uncle take his final breath, laying all his demons to rest once and for all. Now, he gave me mine.

"Much better." I climb on behind him. "Let's go home."

Blake twists the throttle of his bike, and the engine roars to life. "You got it, baby."