Grit
Days led into weeks with no signs of the Lockheart MC making any moves of retaliation. In fact, they’d taken to hunkering down. Jennifer, Carver’s old lady, who was also the dead Lockheart MC’s president’s daughter, got shit-faced drunk when Carver provided proof to her that I’d taken her father out. She’d been absolutely giddy with relief that he was no longer a problem for her.
Nicole was slowly healing, and I’d been taking her to therapy sessions twice a week for the past two weeks. Blink usually rode with us so we weren’t alone. We didn’t want to take chances even though things were still quiet. It was when we let our guards down that shit could easily hit the fan.
I glanced up at the still star-lit sky, which was slowly turning from black to midnight blue. I’d already gotten up and done my run around the property for the morning and had my second cup of coffee. Now, I was just enjoying the cool morning air. I’d usually be showering, but things had changed since Nicole hadmoved into my room. Now, I waited for her to wake up before I started banging around in the bathroom. She needed rest, especially on the nights after her therapy appointments, which drained her, and I didn’t want to be the one to disturb her.
“You’re always sitting out here now,” Carter mused as he closed the clubhouse door behind him. He took a seat in one the chairs next to me and lifted his coffee mug to his lips. “Crazy how y’all change your whole routines to suit one woman’s needs.”
I shrugged one shoulder and grunted. He wasn’t wrong. I never understood Blink and Carver either, yet there I was, doing the exact same things that confused me when Blink and Carver did them. Guess when you fell in love with a woman, things quickly changed. And so easily, too.
And yeah… I was definitely in love with her. Head over heels. Nicole fucking Wren had hooked me so easily. I was a gruff, silent, somewhat mean asshole, yet for her, I was soft and doting. Cuddled her every single night so she could sleep comfortably. Held her through her flashbacks and nightmares. Watched stupid fucking cartoons because they kept her brain silent. I made her coffee and breakfast every damn morning while she showered for the day. I’d even had her car towed to the clubhouse and paid to have the repairs done to her house so she wouldn’t have to worry about it when she finally got to leave here without an escort.
And fuck… what was I going to do if she decided she was done with me after we dealt with the Lockheart MC and the lockdown was lifted? Realistically, I knew a woman like her and a man like me didn’t mix. She was wholesome and cared about the community. About doing the right things. And I was an outlaw who’d seen and done too much to ever be normal again.
But I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Nicole was the only woman for me.
“I love her,” I said simply.
Carter nodded. “Figured,” he admitted. “Wasn’t hard to figure out. You’ve never been the one to be kind, Alan,” he said, calling me by my first name. “Even in the military when one of us was struggling, you told us to suck it the fuck up, tighten up our boots, and get the fuck back out there. But for her, you’re… different. It’s not a bad thing.”
“She’s different. The polar opposite of me or the rest of you.”
Carter snorted. “I mean… we do have dicks, man.”
I shoved him for his smart-ass comment, making him laugh. He held up his free hand. “Alright, alright. I was joking. But I think she’s good for you, Grit. She smooths out your rough edges a bit.” He shrugged before sipping at his coffee again. “I hope she sticks around. I like her. And she fits in with Lindsey and Jennifer well. Even the kid seems to like her,” he said, referring to Eric.
He wasn’t wrong. Eric had taken to Nicole easily, even easier than he had Lindsey. But Nicole had never looked at Eric differently. She treated him just as she would anyone else. When he came in the other night with blood on his chin from a busted lip and cut up knuckles and a wrist that had needed medical attention since it was bent at an awkward angle and clearly broken, she’d sat him down and cleaned him up, not asking questions or prying while I went to get Blink and Lindsey out of bed.
Nicole knew the hell Eric came from. Knew he wouldn’t leave his addict mother alone. Knew he’d never turn his back on her untilshe eventually killed herself. And she didn’t call him stupid or try to get him to leave. She just… understood.
When I’d asked her about it, she said she dealt with kids like him all the time. The ones from broken homes and problematic parents. Said sometimes, you just had to be the adult they could lean on when the adults who should be loving them continued letting them down.
Wholesome. It was the best word to describe the incredible woman Nicole was.
“I hope she sticks around, too,” I confessed. “I honestly don’t know if I can manage without her.” She’d made too big of an impact in my life.
Carter clapped a hand to my shoulder. “Maybe you should tell her that, brother. Sometimes, I think too much is left unsaid.”
I cut him a side glance. “Since when did you get so wise?”
He cracked a grin. “I’ve always been fucking wise, asshole.”
I shook my head and stood. “You’ve always been a pain in my ass, is what you’ve been,” I taunted.
Carter rolled his eyes. “My boot’s going to be up yours in a minute.”
I gave him my middle finger and headed inside the clubhouse. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, which meant Nicole would be waking up soon. And I always tried to make it a point to be in the room when she did so she wouldn’t feel so alone and lost in her head immediately after waking up.
I was so fucking gone over her, but I didn’t even care anymore. Nicole had burrowed underneath my skin, and I didn’t want her anywhere else.
9
Nicole
Eavesdropping on Grit and Carter’s conversation wasnotmy brightest moment, I’ll admit. But when I’d woken up alone for the first time in weeks after a flashback, I’d wanted Grit’s comfort. Needed to feel his arms around me, a reminder that he’d never let anyone touch me like that again without my explicit permission. But when I’d heard they were talking about me, I’d stopped right beside the clubhouse doors, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, my ears straining to hear every word.
“I love her,” Grit said, and my heart lodged in my throat. Grit loved me? Me, who he’d witnessed being assaulted and taken against her will? Me, who he’d seen in my lowest moments?
