“You should be home,”Chris bellowed.
“And why would I want to come home to a sorry excuse, huh? Not like you’re home all the time either,”she snapped back.
That’s my girl, don’t give him any kindness.
In a rage, I saw through the video feed Chris get up and stalked toward the kitchen from the living room. I switched over to the feeds, because the more he fucked up, the more reason I had to drag his sorry ass behind my truck.
“Because you’re my wife, and you need to be home,”he said, trapping her against the counter.
He leaned in close to her, her expression filled with disgust and fight. She gave him a shove.“Never call me that again. You lost that the moment you hit me.”
And like a ticking time bomb, there was all the reason I needed to end his miserable life.
That night I learned that it wasn’t the only time he laid hands on her. It explained everything, from the bruising I saw, to the flinching reaction when someone touched her. I should have seen it. There was a lot I should have seen. I couldn’t go barging, I’d lose her all together before I had the chance to really have her.
Chris charged again, gripping her chin, pressing his fingers closer together, then I felt my blood boil when he smashed his lips on hers, probably hoping that it would change her mind, change her words. Amelia let out a squeal, trying to push him away, fighting that kiss.
She did the only thing she could do. Amelia rammed her knee in his crotch, crumpling him to the ground. She scrambled to steady her feet before taking off, but Chris mustered the strength to reach for her ankle and bring her to the ground.
I should have saved her, put a bullet through him already. I was torn. How could I make sure that nothing got back to her? Would she run from me, knowing the true monster wanted to hunt him down and drown him in the nearest river. Hound Dog would absolutely murder me, putting everything at risk. But Amelia proved that she was a fighter. She kicked him in the face hard enough to render him unconscious. He would have one nasty headache.
I switched feeds, seeing into her room. Amelia bolted to her room, slamming the door behind her, locking the door as well. She should have three locks on that door. But if she was with me, she wouldn’t have any locks, she would be in my arms where she was the safest.
She looked up to the ceiling, repeating the mantra,“He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”
No, he didn’t.
Time passed by and her ex left, grumbling something that he was going to blow off some steam. When he left, I went inside her house. Darkness clouded me as I entered her home. She was dead asleep, nothing was going to wake her up.
She laid there, in just her t-shirt and panties, snuggled under blankets, sleeping on her side. She had put herself in a fetal position. Only the moonlight cast a light on her. She looked too pure, too angelic for someone like me.
I wasn’t a white knight; I was more a grim reaper that left tragedy at people’s doorstep. I was the one that craved blood, she was more of the healer. Her soul called mine.
Her soft whimpers pulled my attention, she was dreaming hard and I wanted to know what her pretty little mind wasenvisioning. Her body relaxed, whatever she was dreaming certainly eased her tension. I looked around her bedroom, some of it was messy with clothes all over the ground. Pictures of her life decorated the area. It was a small sanctuary. A pile of books was stacked high in the corner.
I stood by the bed one last time, brushing the little hairs out of her face, until one word made me freeze.
“River,” she whimpered. She tossed a couple of times before settling in, exhaling hard.
A smug smile appeared on my face. My woman was dreaming of me. She could fight me all the time, telling me that I was nothing more than her pain in her ass and our kiss meant nothing. But hearing my name on her lips, in her sleep, betrayed her lies.
I knew she’d never know, but I brushed a light kiss on her forehead, whispering, “I will never hurt you.”
Mentally, physically, I would never hurt her. And I was going to prove that.
Like a natural reaction, she sighed, settling back into her deep sleep. The longer I stood there, the longer I kept itching to climb into that bed of hers and pull her close to my chest, to give her the sense of peace that she had been yearning for. I wanted to chase whatever demons danced in her head.
“I promise, he’ll be nothing but a grave stone. I’m sorry, peaches, I wasn’t able to stop him.”
I had to pull myself away from her before she had the chance to wake up. I clenched my fists, hating everything about the situation and being on the edge of creating chaos and being a good warrior for the club. But she looked so peaceful, makeup free, everything natural. I knew it wasn’t going to be the last time that I’d see her like this. She was quickly turning into my obsession.
Getting into Amelia’s house undetected wasn’t the problem, it was sneaking back into the clubhouse like I was a damn teenager missing curfew. Before I could make it back to my room, B.B. and Otis stood close to the hallway, just waiting for me.
I tried to play it off. “Ah, you guys didn’t have to wait up for me.”
Their straight faces didn’t change. Only Stray knew what I was doing, or at least some idea.
“What have you been up to? Wouldn’t happen to be going against doctor’s orders there, would you, troublemaker?” B.B’s playful side came out when his mouth twisted into a smirk. I saw the angle, playing the “good cop”, well I wasn’t going to break.
