“That you’re a warrior, and that you’re hungry for more than the scraps you were given. More than anything, that file tells me that you deserve it. That those people, who may be your blood, but by no means are your family, do not deserve you. They don’t get anything from you, and they will never get near you. They’ll have to get through me, Charlie, and the entire club before they’re even within viewing distance of you.
“You are so much more than them. They don’t deserve to even be a blip on your radar. That’s why we asked for the file. As long as you’re mine, I get to carry those burdens for you. I get to watch your back, even when you don’t know there’s something to watch for.
“You can keep looking forward, pretend those people don’t exist, because I will make sure they do not exist for you. Time to share the burden. Let me take care of you. Please.”
“I didn’t ask you to take care of me! I didn’t ask to share any of this,” was all I managed to get out, my voice ragged, my throat clogged with sobs I was trying to choke down.
“You’re right. You didn’t ask. So I’m asking you.” He pulled back, tilting my head up so he could hold eye contact.
“Fee, baby. I’m here, asking you to let me take care of you, to trust me with your secrets, To tell me about your parents. Can you do that? Can you share just enough so I can protect you? Let me in just a little, pretty girl, and I swear, you won’t regret it,” he said, his voice gentle when there was nothing soft in his eyes.
I didn’t understand how I could be so angry at him, yet desperately crave his touch. I needed him to wrap me up and tell me everything was going to be alright, even though he was the one who caused the pain. He had pushed his way in, using brutish force and carrying with him the superiority his title in the club gave him.
He may have gone about it wrong, but deep in the back of my mind, I had always known that moment was coming. That if we had any sort of future, I would have to shed the skin of my past and reveal at least some of the horrors just below the surface.
In a quick motion, he lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing and carried me into the bedroom. Without ever letting me out of his arms, he arranged us on the bed so he was sitting up with his back against the headboard and I was in his lap, my head resting on his shoulder.
He rubbed his hand down my back, and I gave in to the sobs I had been tempering all evening. I didn’t know how long we sat there. I didn’t know what nonsense either one of us said to each other, but I cried more in that moment than I had in my entire life.
Tears of rage and shame quickly morphed into a soul-deep mourning. I cried for the child who was starved and beaten, forgotten and neglected. I cried for the woman that child grew into, so unsure and untrusting of everything and everyone around her.
My body was racked with conflicting emotions, anger and sadness warring at the top. Underneath all of that, though, was the sting of betrayal by the two people I finally decided to confide in.
“I trusted you. Both of you,” I whispered out on a ragged breath.
“Then trust us to have your back. To protect you,” he replied, equally as fervent.
“You went behind my back!” I yelled before continuing. “Bash, this isn’t the clubhouse. You’re not my VP. You don’t get to make decisions about my life, about my past, without talking to me. I’m not a prospect who needs vetting or a business to scout. I’m just me. There’s no hierarchy between us. This should be a partnership, and Bash, as my partner, I would expect you to have my back. That means being upfront with me and not making decisions on my behalf because you think your way is the only way.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. We should have told you we were worried about your parents and wanted to check in on them. I’m sorry, baby girl, sorrier than you’ll ever know that we didn’t do that first.
“I’m not used to asking permission to do things, especially when it comes to those I care about. I know this isn’t just about getting your consent, that I pushed my own agenda before thinking about what that meant for yours. I should have waited, trusted you to share with me, and to know that they weren’t a concern.
“With that said, I’m happy as fuck to know those losers are halfway across the country, without the money or braincells to try to get to you. Knowing you’re safe from that means everything to me.” His eyes were earnest, the blue color a shifting pool of rioting emotions.
I couldn’t hold back the wince when he mentionedthose losers.He said it with such derision, clearly looking down on them, that I wondered how long it would be until he looked at me like that.
“What are we even doing here, Bash? Can’t you see how different we are, how easily this could all fall apart? You have a whole life and community to go back to. I’m barely holding it together, and I can’t be what you need,” I said, trying to explain that feeling of doom inside of me that had been becoming more persistent since Charlie mentioned the file for the first time earlier.
“That’s not true. If anything, I’m the one who let you down. I wish I had a good excuse. I wish I could say it was purely about your parents, but I know that’s a cop-out. I want to know you, Fiona. All of you. I want to understand everything that’s going on in that head of yours. I want to know what makes you laugh and what makes you cry, and who I have to punch for causing the tears.
“I feel almost out of control when it comes to you, and I didn’t handle it well. I took control back in a way that violated your trust, which is the most precious gift I’ve ever been given. I will spend every moment going forward proving that I am worthy of your trust. I will earn it back,” he replied earnestly for the first time, really letting me see him. Standing in front of me was a different version of Bash—one who wasn’t self-assured and infallible. Shaking my head, I was overwhelmed and incapable of seeing a future where our lives meshed.
“This was never meant to be, never meant for someone like me. This isn’t going to work. We never had a chance,” I started muttering, breaking from his embrace to sit up, avoiding looking at him.
The words slipped out of my mouth as they tumbled through my brain. I had what felt like a bone-deep knowledge that, even at my best, I wasn’t good enough for Bash.
A second later, my body was in the air as he gripped my arms and flipped our positions. My back hit the bed as he leaned over me, tucking my body tightly against his.
“Don’t ever say that again,” he demanded, anger marring his beautiful face.
“Bash…” I started, and he cut me off with a brutal kiss. I tried to take a breath, but that only gave him more access. There was something in his touch that was different than all the times before. It was as if he had been holding himself back, and now he was unleashing his full power.
He kissed me with all the passion, emotion, and anger inside of him, and I eagerly matched him. It was almost a fight, as if we were trying to climb inside of each other. I was scratching at his back and pulling at his hair, needing him closer to me, needing him more than I had ever needed anyone before.
“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you feel this too. There’s no running from me anymore, baby. I’ll just follow you and drag you back,” he said, his voice hoarse as we pulled at each other’s clothes.
“If I’m yours, then you’re mine,” I bit back, almost high off the aggression, wanting to push him as much as he was pushing me.
