“Ju-just you. You’ll be right back, you promise?” Just me? There aren’t words to describe the magnitude her words hold.
“Baby, I promise. Give me less than five minutes. Just sit tight and breathe. No one will come near the door.”
“I can do that.”
“Good girl.” I drop a long kiss to the center of her forehead, hating myself for leaving her but knowing I need to at least acknowledge Chaos. I reluctantly peel myself away from her and head out the door, locking it behind me, ready to defend her until I die if I have to, but knowing it won’t come to that.
Chapter Twenty-Five
BRISTOL
What the hell have I done? I don’t know what I expected arriving here, but the moment the car pulled up at the Hell’s Heathens gates, I knew there was no turning back. The unknown officially outweighed staying a moment longer in that house with Blake.
My tears have slowed, the salt drying on my raw skin as I sit alone in Rhys’ room, waiting for my mind to catch up. I wring my hands together tightly in front of me, twisting and kneading my fingers. I can’t believe I’m here, inside a motorcycle clubhouse, surrounded by men who look like they would eat me for dinner if given the opportunity.
But when I had a split second to make a decision, the only place I wanted to be was with Rhys. I have a key to Kira’s house, and I could have gone there, but I know that’s the first place Blake would look. I wanted to feel safe, and Rhys was my first thought.
Now the fear rushes in if Blake will actually come looking for me. The reality of what I’ve done clings to me thick and heavy. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me. The club president didn’t seem happy at all that I was here. Rhys said it’s their job to keep everyone in the club safe and protected, and here I am, a complete stranger, waltzing in and potentially bringing with me an abusive ex-fiancé who will do god knows what to get me back.
Scurrying and little whines break my current mental breakdown. Looking over on the other side of Rhys’ bed, I see a large enclosure and a play area, and then it hits me. His pet bunny. Getting up, I slowly walk over to the enclosure, looking in and finding a fluffy white and grey bunny chomping away at some leafy greens. His little nose bunches up repeatedly, and my heart melts.
“Hi, sweet baby,” I coo. “Can I hold you? I could really use some animal love right about now.” My hands slip down into the enclosure, letting him hop over to me. He sniffs me a few times before he seems content enough for me to pick him up. He’s so soft, and I immediately bring him to my chest, nuzzling into his fur.
I get comfortable back on Rhys’ bed, his rich cedar and spice scent enveloping me in comfort. Mr. Bun-Buns seems just as content, purring happily as he snuggles into my voluptuous chest. I chuckle, like father like son, I would imagine. Rhys seemed to be fairly consumed by my larger-than-life breasts.
I pause to take in my surroundings. I don’t know what I expected, but I guess I never gave thought to what his living arrangements would be once I found out he was in a motorcycle club.
The space is sparse, half the room taken up by the massive enclosure for Mr. Bun-Buns. My heart does a weird thing in my chest at the thought that Rhys gives so much space to his pet bunny. He really cares about his health and well-being. He has a tall wooden dresser that matches the finish of his bedframe, a closet, and another door that I’m assuming leads to a bathroom. He doesn’t have anything on the walls, and I wonder how much time he truly spends in here.
The door creaks open, sending a wave of anxiety through my nervous system. My arrival didn’t exactly start off welcoming and warm by any means, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing a bigger part of the picture here.
My body deflates as Rhys steps into the room, his large shoulders filling most of the doorframe as his deep-emerald eyes slowly rake over me. A smile plays on his lips, which he disappointingly masks with his hand, rubbing over the scruff of his beard.
“I see you’ve found Mr. Bun-Buns.”
“I still can’t believe you have a pet bunny. Let alone one named Mr. Bun-Buns.”
“But now you know what a big softie I really am, so it makes sense.”
“It does. His little purrs are better than a kitten’s. He seems very well-loved, Rhys.”
“That’s what you do when you love something. You show them. Over and over and over again.” His eyes never leave mine as he says the words. “As much as I want to stand here and stare at you holding him for the rest of the night, we have some things we need to talk about.”
I know he’s right; I have a lot to come clean to him about. I just don’t want him to react badly. Not that I truly believe he would, there’s just so much that I still don’t know and understand about his life. And after all the threats that came from Blake, I’m frozen in terror.
I shift, setting Mr. Bun-Buns back in his enclosure. He hops away, perfectly content and happy to stretch his little legs. I turn to face Rhys, giving in to the conversation.
“I know we do. I’m sure you didn’t expect that when you gave me this address that I would turn up here in the middle of the night.”
“Baby, I gave you this address because I could tell something has been going on that you haven’t verbalized yet. The fact that you came here, though, in the middle of the night, no less, speaks volumes. I’ve never asked you a single thing about Blake. Mostly because I didn’t want to know anything about the man you were committing yourself to. It was out of pure jealousy. But now I’ve got to know. What happened tonight to make you run here? Did he hurt you?”
Sudden flashbacks slam into me of conversations Rhys and I have had about how his club handles people that cross them and the people they love. Then another of Blake threatening to have Rhys murdered. What have I gotten myself in the middle of? Panic starts to claw at my chest, my goddamn traitorous eyes filling with unshed tears that had only just dried up.
The door shuts behind Rhys, an audible click of a lock flicking, and then the bed is dipping down, Rhys’ hands cupping my face as he peppers kisses all over my forehead and cheeks, collecting my tears with his lips and tongue.
“Don’t cry, my love. You aren’t in any trouble; I just need to know what happened so I can understand the situation better.”
“I’m scared, Rhys,” I confess.
