I’m stretchedout on Blade’s couch, flipping through channels and finding nothing but crap. Every show looks the same. Loud voices, dumb jokes, and laugh tracks that make the silence in this house feel even louder. I’m not really watching anything. I’m just trying to keep from thinking about the fact that I’m here alone. Again. I thought staying with Blade would mean sexy sleepovers and wandering around the house naked, not me camped out on his couch half-dressed and bored out of my damn mind. I really pictured more of the fun stuff and less… sitting here staring at a TV I’m not even watching.
Blade’s place smells like him. Leather. Motor oil. Smoke. A little cedar. It used to make me blush every time I walked in. Now it just makes me feel like the last clingy survivor in a haunted love story. I rub my hands over my face, groaning into my palms as if that will make time move faster.
He left two hours ago. Same drill as always. The club calls and suddenly nothing else matters. He’s out there dealing with new drug pushers in Jackson. Dangerous assholes trying to move in. I get why he’s doing what he’s doing. I’m not clueless. The clubprotects this town and the people in it. And they’ve been doing that a long time before I showed up in his life.
But I’m starting to hate how easily he walks away from me. I toss the blanket off my legs and sit up straighter, staring at the front windows. The world outside looks calm, too calm. Blade says that’s when people get stupid. When they think the danger has passed. That’s why he insists on keeping me here with the doors locked. Safe. Hidden. Out of his way.
The stupid part is I agreed. I agreed because I saw real fear in his eyes. The kind that only comes from losing too much already. The kind that keeps him up at night. I don’t want to be the reason he gets hurt again. Or the reason someone uses him to hurt the club.
It still doesn’t change the fact that I’m lonely as hell. I grab my phone off the coffee table, swipe it open, and check my messages even though I know there won’t be anything new. Still nothing from Blade. One missed call from Ansley earlier. Two texts I never answered.
Ansley: You alive
Ansley: Blink twice if he has you locked in the basement
I almost laugh. Leave it to Ansley to joke about kidnapping to cope with me dating a biker. I type back with a sigh.
Me: I’m fine. Just bored out of my skull. He’s out again.
She responds almost immediately.
Ansley: Girl. Come out with me. One drink. One taco. I will pick you up. I’m five minutes away anyway.
My stomach flips. I look toward the front door like it’s blocking my path to freedom. I told Blade I would stay in. Lock up. Not move a damn inch. And yes, he asked. He didn’t chain me here like some old-school psycho. But I’m starting to feel like a princess locked in a tower made of worry and leather jackets.
I drop the back of my head against the couch cushion and stare up at the ceiling. The light above flickers once. Probably nothing. Probably everything. The thing I hate the most is how fast my brain goes to the worst places. How silence turns into betrayal. How I start wondering if maybe he doesn’t stay because being here, with me, is the last place he wants to be. That what he thought was love was just fleeting infatuation and it’s run its course. Now he’s just feeling like he has to stay with me. That’s the worst feeling of all.
My thumb hovers over Ansley’s messages. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. He trusts me to be here when he gets home. He needs that peace of mind. But I need something too. I need to remember I’m a whole human. Not just the woman who warms his bed and waits for his return.
I take a long, shaky breath and text Ansley back.
Me: Pick me up. But we’re keeping it close. And we are going straight home after. I mean it.
Ansley sends a gif of someone doing a victory dance.
The guilt hits me instantly, crawling up my spine and making my stomach turn. I press my lips together and try not to choke on it. It’s just dinner. One drink. Quick in, quick out. No risks. No stupid decisions. Blade won’t even know I was gone. And what he doesn’t know… won’t hurt him. At least that’s what I tell myself while I put on my boots.
Headlights sweep across the window a few minutes later and a quick honk follows. Ansley’s shitty little Honda sounds like it’s dying every time she taps the horn, but tonight it feels like freedom calling. I grab my jacket, double check the locks because Blade trained me into paranoia, and head out before I can talk myself out of this.
Cold night air hits my skin and I shiver, more from nerves than temperature. Ansley rolls down the passenger window, eyebrows raised. “You escaping prison?” she asks.
“Basically,” I mutter as I climb in.
She gives the house a look. “Damn. I always forget he lives like a vampire who won the lottery.”
I huff out a laugh, heart beating too fast. I try not to look like I’m checking shadows for enemies. Blade would laugh at me if he could see how I mirror his habits. Then he’d be pissed, because it means I’m already stepping into the danger he’s trying to shield me from.
Ansley pulls onto the road, radio low, passing under streetlights that flicker like they’re warning us to turn back. I push that thought away and force myself to breathe.
“You good?” she asks after a minute, glancing over.
“I don’t know,” I admit, staring out the window at the blur of dark trees. “I love being with him, I do. But… I feel like I never actually get him.”
Ansley whistles low. “Deep shit already. We’re not even at the tacos.”
“It’s just…” I rub my arms, frustration simmering hot in my chest. “Every night he’s gone. Always some mission. Somethreat. Some dude they have to follow or punch or scare into leaving town.”
“That’s literally his job, babe.”
