Chapter Two
Harley
All my life, my father has been my hero.
Steel. He might be the Prez of Steel Riders MC, the club that rules Helena. He might be fearsome to some people, terrifying because he’s a big man, but to me, those hands were always capable of the utmost gentleness. Of tucking me in at night. Or caring for me when I was sick. He’s always been patient with me. Given me advice. Told me that he loved me and that I was the most beautiful girl in the world and fuck the kids at school who made me feel like I was less than worthy.
I’ve never really been at odds about my father before. I know he’s done bad things. That he’s taken lives of men who wanted to kill him first. I know that he comes from a bloodstained past, a hard man living in a hard life, but to me, he’s always just been my dad. The man I loved, who loved me fiercely in return. I’ve never been afraid of him. I’ve never known anything but love and kindness. He’s a fair man. Treats his men with respect. He’d die for any one of those men. He carefully shielded me from the other side of his life, from what being the Prez of the club, Steel Riders, really meant.
Tears flood down my cheeks, scalding me, trailing down so wet and hot that I swear they’re leaving gouges the way flood waters rush through the land, carving it out.
“Edge…”
It’s all I can say as I stare into the ruined aftermath of what my father has done.His face. He has a beautiful face, a face my dad used to joke about being too pretty for his own good. He used to talk about how the ladies loved Edge because they couldn’t help themselves. He was made to be loved, even with his haircut that my dad made fun of, the close cropped sides, left long on top.
That dark hair is sticky with blood, and when I run my fingers through it, trying to soothe him, they come away red. I stare at my palm in horror, my stomach lurching.
Leah kneels down beside us. She taps me lightly on the shoulder, so that I look at her. I watch her lips moving. “Come on, Harley. Let me call an ambulance. He needs to get to the hospital.”
My eyes fly back to Edge. His lips move slowly, and even though they’re cracked and bloody, swelling with every second, I can definitely read what he’s saying. “No.” His left eye is swollen shut, a horrible purple like the bruises and welts swelling and blooming on his cheekbone right below. A stream of blood trickles between his parted lips. “No ambulance. No fucking hospital.”
Leah’s shoulders heave with a sigh. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“Don’t need people asking questions.”
I can’t hear Edge’s voice, but I imagine it comes out slurred, strained, aching and raw with pain. I’ve never heard his voice before. Ever. I know it’s probably deep and silky, sometimes soft, like his eyes get when he looks at me.
“Your face.” My words probably come out as little more than a whimper. I feel broken by his pain, twisted and bruised, beaten down like those blows hit me too.
“It’ll heal.” His lips try and turn up, but it’s a sick, twisted parody of his usual smile, since his lips are broken and swollen. “Might not be as pretty though.”
“That’s not what I was talking about.” I squeeze my eyes shut and a fresh rain of tears pours down my cheeks. They drop silently onto Edge’s chest, since I’ve picked myself up and backed up, careful not to hurt him. “Your nose might be broken. He could have broken anything. Your cheekbones, your jaw…”
“Fine.” I can tell what an effort that word is. His lips struggle to work, so that I can see what he’s saying. “Just let me get up.”
“You’re not fine,” I retort, but I crawl off him. Leah is there for me. She takes my arm in her delicate hands and pulls me up. I still trip on the hem of my dress.
I almost forgot what night this was. That it was supposed to be a happy night. My father throwing a party for me to celebrate me graduating from college and returning home to Helena. As well as the other club members, some of my old high school friends are in there. They have no idea that I’m out here, that my whole world has ground to a painful halt and my heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest and pummeled in the dirt, right there beside the man I love.
I’d offer my hand, but I know that Edge is far too proud for it. Pride aside, he doesn’t want me to worry. He doesn’t want me to think that this was my fault. But it is. For so many reasons. If I live a thousand lifetimes, I’ll never be able to erase the horror from my mind or repair the rift that I’ve caused.I wish I could get thread, sew it all back together, turn everything back the way it was, but I can’t. I fucking can’t, and it guts me like a knife pushed straight up through my ribs, into my heart.
Edge slowly picks himself off the ground. He rolls into a sitting position with a groan. Leah holds me tight against her. I could break away if I wanted to, but I’m frozen in place.
Pain slashes across his face like that knife has been pulled from my heart and used against him. The unmarred side of his face twists up right before he sways. A gasp tears from my lips and Leah lets me go.
I’m at his side in a second, my knees planted firmly on the ground, my arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to keep him upright. He balances on one hand, precariously, fighting the black tide that’s trying to suck him under.
“Aw, fuck,” Edge warns me. I watch his lips before he twists to the side, taking me with him. His other hand hits the dirt beside the first and his entire body heaves. Still, he turns to me. “Fuck… Harley, get out of here.”
I hate the pleading note in his voice. It shreds through me worse than what’s already been done. I can’t stand to see him in pain, pain he’s enduring because of me. Because he loves the wrong woman.
“Not a chance,” I hiss into his ear.
My hands steady him, one at his waist and one between his shoulder blades. His muscles are tensed and bunched together beneath his black t-shirt. It’s soaked with sweat and crusted in dirt and no doubt blood.
His entire body tenses hard. His muscles bunch and spasm beneath my fingertips, all latent, raw power that rollsand twists, expands and contracts, warm and alive. I’ve never touched him like this before. What we have is still new, I think because we both knew the enormity of it, we were reluctant to take things further. I wanted to, and I know Edge wanted to, but something held us back.
This.
