Leeva has been my best friend since we were twelve. We’ve never been romantically involved because I shut that down years ago—harshly and instantly—the first time she tentatively told me she might think of me as more than a friend. She was too good for me or anyone in our world. We’ve never been anything more than friends, but because my heart and fucking soul belong to her, it feels like I cheat on her every time I come here.
“She never was, never can be, or ever will be mine,” I repeat my mantra out loud, hoping it will finally stick and that this love and need for her will finally disappear.
The brutal memory of Grinder lying on the floor of the Cell is a punch to the gut, reminding me of what lies ahead if I ever touch Leeva. Because, just like Grinder, I know too much about the inner workings and operations of the MC; I’d never just be de-patched and allowed to walk away if I broke our club laws.
But none of that matters because Leevaisn’t here. She ran and has been gone for over a decade.
I know that Digits has been looking for her, thinking he’s doing me a favor. But Leeva Malone has completely disappeared, nowhere to be found.
And it doesn’t matter that Digits hasn’t been able to locate her. As long as Guerilla doesn’t find her, I don’t care. There’s no divorce between an old lady and her old man; his brand on her skin will always cement that bond and claim in our MC world. Guerilla is no longer here, but he didn’t patch in with another MC, so that means he’s still a member of the Havoc Guardians.
And if Leeva chose to stay away from him all these years, then I’m not about to bring her back because I know my bastard brother will then return for her, just to rub it in my face that she's his old lady. Ash would never allow Guerilla to force Leeva to be with him, but that doesn’t give me any solace. The pain of not having Leeva in my life is a slow, painful death, but I put her wants and needs first. Because Guerilla took her innocence away and damn near broke her in doing so. I’d never inflict any more pain on her than I already have through my role in everything. Leeva chose to run and to stay away from our world, and I’ll always respect her decision.
She’s gone, and I accepted it years ago.
Leeva. My little dove. My best friend. The girl I’ve loved since we were twelve years old.
Those big, warm, amber eyes. Her purity shining like a beacon, drawing me in.
When I’d shut down any potential for anything other than friendship between us, it was partly because I didn’t feel worthy of her—not with the filthy, impure thoughts of how I wanted to defile her—and partly because she wasn’t born into this life and I wanted her to decide to be with a man like me when she was older, when she understood exactly what she was getting into. Even if we had been together and things had worked out the way I always dreamed, I would’ve always hidden my filthy cravings from her. Back then, as a teenager, I didn’t understand them for what they were and viewed myself as a sexual deviant. But now, even with a better understanding of my kinky side, I’d still hide it from her. Yes, I fantasized about defiling her, to fuck her raw, depraved and filthy, but she was my little dove.
And she’d always remain that way.
Pure and innocent, and hopefully healed from the way my brother, along with my own actions, had broken her before she ran.
Memory after memory reels through my head as I grip my steering wheel, staring at Hedon’s back door.
Memories of laying eyes on Leeva the first time, knowing I was a goner.
Her hurt when I harshly shut down anything other than friendship. Then, realizing that those actions had consequences and had pushed her to Guerilla.
Leeva telling me that she was dating him. Then the crushing blows of seeing her with his tattoo on her neck for all to see that she was his. Of my best friend telling me she was pregnant with a child that should’ve been mine.
My rage when I found out Guerilla was fucking around on Leeva and pummeling the shit out of him. My shame I felt thenand every goddamn second of my life since, because I never told her.
The horrific memory shortly after, when Leeva had walked in on Guerilla with not one Club Pussy but three, and then she was rushed to the hospital. Me holding her as she broke in agony because she had miscarried her child.
Her discovering that I knew Guerilla had cheated in the past and hadn’t told her. And the betrayal, pain, and anger on her tear-streaked face when she told me I was dead to her and ordered me to leave.
I obeyed her wishes, if only for a few hours to give her some space, but when I returned to her hospital room, she was gone.
The crushing, debilitating pain I’ve felt since she left damn near chokes me now, and I shake, forcing the memories away.
Leeva is gone—somewhere far from here…far from the pain this world brought her.
Gone from me, which is where she needs to be, because if she returned and forgave me for my sins and told me she wanted me, I’d do it; I'd be with her. I completely understand what Grinder felt and what he had consciously decided to do, in order to have the woman he loved, and who he thought loved him in return. So if Leeva came back and wanted me, I'd do it, regardless of knowing it would be my death.
Because to have her just once would be worth it.
“She never was, never can be, or ever will be mine.” My voice is cool and aloof in the dark of my truck. “She never was, never can be, or ever will be mine,” I repeat, willing myself to finally believe it.
Chapter 4
Army
Past
“Doyouloveme?”my best friend asks me.
