Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC) (31 page)

I moved my attention back to the room. “She was like my spirit guide, giving me pills to fly me high, giving me more to bring me back down. And finally giving me the syringe that changed it all.” That was another night burned into my existence. Some crappy party. No, not even a party, just a handful of sketchy people in an even sketchier apartment. I’d been anxious to leave but Nat had convinced me to stay. She’d held out the syringe to me and I’d paused. Who would have thought what a ripple effect that pause would have? How much hung in the balance? If only I’d just gone with my gut instead of taking the vial that held my doom.

“I’m not blaming her. I guess that’s what a lot of addicts do, search desperately for someone, anyone, to point the finger at, lay the blame on. God forbid we actually take responsibility for flushing our own lives down the crapper.

“I’m under no such illusions. She may have offered, but I accepted. I swallowed those pills. I injected myself. I was the master of my own destiny.” I paused, the slideshow of horrors from that little room playing on repeat in the front of my mind. I struggled to escape it, to find my way back to the room. My throat was raw as I spoke my last sentence. “In this case, I was the master of my own demise.” My gaze touched on Gabriel’s for the first time since I’d gotten up here. “Or so I’d thought. Someone very important to me pointed out that all of that shit was winter. Drugs stripped everything off me, like leaves from the branches on a tree, and it looked like demise. I didn’t believe him. Then.” I stared at him, seeing myself in those eyes across the room, and for once, I didn’t hate what I saw. “But now I think, if you’ll excuse the
Game of Thrones
undertone here, summer is coming.”

* * *

I
walked
into the clubhouse and froze the moment my eyes hit the common area—more specifically the sofa and TV. Even more specifically who was on the sofa and what was on the TV.

For once, the common room was empty of prospects, club girls, any old ladies, and any patched members I begrudgingly accepted as family.

Right then there were only two people—three, including me. Gabriel was on the sofa, leaning back with one of his long, sinewy, and tattooed arms draped along the top of the sofa. The other lay softly on top of a dark head which was situated on his thigh. The head of a beautiful little girl who was lying on her side, using Gabriel’s impressive, denim-clad thigh as a cushion. Her little face was scrunched up, a thumb in her mouth, and her eyes were closed in sleep.

I’m not one for womb clenches at any moment, especially at the sight of children. I didn’t like children. I had no desire to have them. No way, no how.

Right then, I seemed to have forgotten that fact. Because looking at Gabriel, thoughtlessly giving such a young girl easy affection, the image of him, in his cut with tattoos and the innocent, beautiful little human, my womb clenched.

Then my gaze moved back to the television.

“What are you doing?” I asked, finally realizing I was turning into some sort of Peeping Tom, though I was sure Gabriel knew I was there. He had badass skills.

The way he jumped told me his badass skills were on vacation. Amazingly, the little girl on his thigh stayed in her current position, still firmly gripped by the sandman. I felt a pang of envy at how little people welcomed oblivion so easily.

You could welcome it that easily
, the devil on my shoulder said.
All it takes is one shot.

I shook the thought away with great effort, my hands shaking slightly.

“Shh,” he hissed.

I raised a brow. Belle didn’t wake up with him almost crawling up the back of the sofa, so my simple question probably wouldn’t wake her. But then, he wasn’t looking at Belle. His gaze was glued to the TV.

My mouth had a mind of its own and a small grin tugged at the corners. “Did you just shush me in order to keep watching
My Little Pony
?” I teased, my eyes on the ridiculous pastel cartoon.

“I’m not watching
My Little Pony,”
he scoffed, though his gaze didn’t move. “I’m watching Belle, who happens to like Rainbow Magic. I’m just being an awesome uncle and letting her have her way.”

My grin turned into a full-blown smile. “Babe, Belle’s asleep,” I pointed out.

Gabriel suddenly tore his gaze from the TV. It didn’t go to Belle, as I expected, but came straight to me. I felt his eyes at my smile and I couldn’t even take it off if I tried. Something moved beyond them before he quickly glanced down at the sleeping toddler on his lap. Registering that she was, in fact, asleep, he quickly fumbled for the remote and turned off the TV.

“You’re a Brony,” I said, on the edge of laughter.

Gabriel’s gaze shot to me. “No, I’m not,” he argued. There was a pause. “What’s a Brody?”

That’s what did it. I burst out laughing. Real, bent-over, gut-wrenching, tear-bringing laughter. I finally got hold of myself, still too far gone to see the way he was looking at me. “A ‘
Brony
,’” I said between giggles, “is a full-grown man who derives pleasure from watching Rainbow Magic,” I explained. “Never in my life would I think a biker, a big bad Sons of Templar biker, would also be a Brony,” I teased.

Gwen entered the room before he could defend himself, her hair slightly mussed. “Thanks for watching Belle, Lucky,” she said. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” she asked me.

I grinned. “Well....”

Gabriel surged off the sofa, thrusting the sleeping kid into Gwen’s arms.

“We were just talking about how incredibly manly and strong I was and how Becky couldn’t control herself around me. I had to remind her that we were in the presence of a child, but that didn’t stop her.” He shrugged at Gwen. “What can I say, I’m irresistible.” He was at my side in a flash, his hand over my mine. “We’ve got to go now, bye.” He ushered me out the door before I could utter a word.

“How much do I have to pay you to keep that under your belt, Becky,” he murmured in my ear, yanking me to his side.

I grinned and glanced up at him. “About a million dollars. But I’ll take it in installments.”

“Let’s get my baby on the bike.”

“Or we could ride unicorns?” I teased.

“They’re fuckin’ ponies,” he snapped, and I full-on laughed.

I didn’t think I’d ever be able to, but there was Gabriel, proving me wrong.

“
S
he has been through hell
. So believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into the fire and smiles.”

-E. Corona

“
I
don’t want
to go to a party,” I whined, climbing off Gabriel’s bike.

He grinned and took off my helmet, then ran his fingers through my spiky hair. I closed my eyes. I was getting better at it, letting him touch me. Letting the warm feeling wash over me and not feel
their
hands disperse ice through my limbs. Since that night, three days before, when I’d fallen apart almost completely, it was like I could finally start putting myself together again. I didn’t miss the way Gabriel watched me, his eyes guarded and intense. I knew I scared him with the syringe. I’d terrified myself. I’d looked right into the hell I’d clawed my way out of and seriously considered going back there. But I hadn’t. And that was something pivotal.

I’d been getting better. I wasn’t ready for everything, but I was getting there. I freaking hoped so, because living with someone who looked like Gabriel, sleeping next to him and his abs, had me feeling all pent-up but unable to do anything about it.

Just another kind of hell.

He cupped my chin in his hands, bringing our foreheads together.

“A wise woman once said something about reality,” he murmured. “Something like, ‘Nothing at all to change reality. It often goes on whether you like it or not.’” He quoted me. To me.

I sucked in a breath. Not at his words—I barely noticed them—but the proximity of his mouth. It almost brushed against mine as he spoke, and it was like I was a stupid fucking schoolgirl who had never been kissed. I wanted him, with a need that was physical. Yearned for him. At the same time, I wasn’t ready, wasn’t rid of that feeling of uncleanness.

He didn’t kiss me. I was equal parts relieved and disappointed.

He stepped back, twining my hands with his as he directed us towards the entrance.

I grinned at Rosie and Lucy, who strutted past us as if they were on a catwalk. They certainly looked the part. Rosie was going for grunge, wearing tight ripped jeans, a Grateful Dead tee, and boots she’d borrowed off me. The girl was a chameleon. Lucy stayed true to her
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
elegance in drainpipe tailored pants and a tight-fitting black top which slid off her shoulder.

“Um, I know you would have indulged in a few cocktails already, since you’re alcoholics, but the party’s that way,” I informed them, pointing in the opposite direction.

Rosie slowed. “Sorry, we got a better offer from somewhere where my brother won’t kill my game.” She winked at me, and then her eyes went to Gabriel and my intertwined hands. Her grin widened. “Have fun, lovebirds. Don’t do anything I’d do.” She blew us a kiss and Lucy did a finger wave before they left in the direction of Rosie’s convertible.

Gabriel squeezed my hand. “You sure you don’t want to go and troll the town with Trouble One and Trouble Two?” he teased.

I gazed up at him. At the eyes that had become darker and deeper since I’d met him. Since we’d bathed in each other’s darkness. “No. I don’t need to go looking for trouble when I’m staring right at it,” I whispered.

His eyes went deeper and he grinned. “Ditto,” he murmured.

As loath as I was to leave the moment—I wanted to live in it—something flickered in my mind. “Shoot,” I muttered, glancing over to where the girls had almost reached Rosie’s car. “Rosie has my lipstick. I’ve got to get it before they leave.” I tried to run in their direction but the grip on my hand tightened.

“You sure that’s not just an excuse for you to run and escape from me?” he asked, not teasing any longer.

I gave him a long look and held my breath. Before I could think about it too much, I went up on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his. It was quick and closed-mouth, but it did something. Something good, something that had my heart beating just a little quicker. And something bad. Something that had my skin prickling with goose bumps, and not the nice kind. The mixture of the two was an exquisite cocktail that I didn’t drink too deep of, not yet.

I stepped away and left him standing there with a hungry, dumfounded look on his face before turning to run in Rosie’s direction.

“Hey, bitch, don’t run with my lipstick,” I called.

She and Lucy had been chatting and staring at the man who just got out of an SUV, who was seriously yummy and frowning at Lucy. Both snapped their attention to me.

“Okay, I’ll give it back, but only if I can keep the boots,” she yelled back.

I shook my head and slowed my pace. It didn’t look like they were getting in Rosie’s car anytime soon. By the way the hulking Maori man was eating Lucy up with his eyes, she wasn’t going to find anything better anywhere.

If I didn’t have my own caramel, hulking man I’d totally fight her for him. But as impressed as I was with his muscles, his height, and the tribal design snaking down his sinewy forearms, I only appreciated it in a detached kind of way. Not just because men had been ruined for me from those three weeks in that cell. Or maybe they had.

All men except one.

“Who’s the hunk?” I asked when I reached the women.

Lucy chewed her lip and Rosie grinned wickedly at her. “Lucy’s boyfriend,” she said, her eyes on the man who was leaning against the SUV, looking like he was happy to lean there for the rest of time.

Her head snapped to Rosie. “He is fucking not.” Her violet eyes focused on me. “He’s my stalker.”

I grinned, holding my hand out for my lipstick, which Rosie gave me. “Yeah, well, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so cut up about having such a hunky stalker. At least when he ties you up in the basement you’ve got something pretty to look at.” I winked at her and my phone vibrated in my pocket. “So I’m guessing you’ll be sticking around for the party after all?” I surmised, grabbing my phone and glancing down at the unknown caller ID.

“No,” Lucy snapped.

“Yes,” Rosie declared at the same time.

They scowled at each other.

“Well, you two have fun working that out. I’ll see you inside.”

I turned my back to their bickering, grinning at Gabriel, who was leaning against his bike, arms folded, waiting for me.

Such a normal moment, having him staring at me like that, having the itch down to a manageable level. Going to a party where I actually started to feel like I belonged had me feeling something I knew I shouldn’t.

Something that was dangerous.

Deadly.

Hope.

And then when I answered the phone, that hope was shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Yello,” I greeted, my voice light.

“Hey, baby,” a familiar sickening voice drawled.

I stopped in my tracks. My smile froze on my face and my throat closed up.

“No greeting? Not even your trademark smart mouth?” he continued. “I’m surprised. Delightfully so. My boys managed to fuck it out of you.” There was a loaded pause and his heavy breathing filled my ears. “That’s until those biker fucks came in and killed them all. Blew up our fuckin’ house. Now that was just rude,” he hissed. “Turnabout’s fair play. Your boyfriend blows up my friends, kills my family, I blow up yours. Though I am disappointed to let such two hot pieces go to waste.” He sighed.

I found control over my body at his words, at the chilling realization of what he meant.

Lucy and Rosie had just finished their fight and looked like they were about to get into their car.

I dropped my phone, not needing the poison of his words anymore. I had bigger things to worry about.

“Rosie!” I screamed, my voice shrill. “Get away from the car.”

I didn’t wait for my words to penetrate, just started sprinting towards them. The man at the SUV did the same and Rosie and Lucy reacted immediately, running from the vehicle.

I got to them.

Not soon enough.

Or maybe just in time, depending on who you asked.

Because just as the man snatched Lucy out of her run and dove on top of her, the world exploded into face-melting heat and the air became a dump truck, pushing me through the air.

I was flying on the scorching air.

Then I wasn’t.

The ground came at me at a surprising speed.

Then it didn’t.

Because then there was nothing.

* * *

I
t was
the ringing that woke me. The ringing that was so loud and so shrill it rattled through my forehead.

I blinked, trying to shake the sound out. Gabriel’s face was the first thing I saw, terror cloaking it. His mouth was moving, but all I could hear was the ringing.

I blinked again and tried to move.

Gabriel’s hands were around me and he said something else, his other hand going to my face and pulling it close to his.

“I can’t hear you,” I said, my voice sounding muffled in my own ears, like I was underwater.

I tried to move again, feeling disoriented. My head pounded like a bitch, but I think the rest of me was in one piece.

Physically, at least.

Then it hit me. What happened. Why I was lying on the concrete with Gabriel leaning over me, panic on his face.

I struggled to get up, my ears still ringing.

Gabriel stopped my motion, his mouth moving again.

I kept struggling, gazing past his face. There was black smoke and flames rising from the remains of Rosie’s car. People were running around everywhere; it was like watching a silent movie, the chaos on mute. I couldn’t see past the smoke and debris. Couldn’t see Rosie. Or Lucy.

They had been right beside me. Or where I was seconds before. Now it looked like I was a good five feet away from my previous spot.

“Let me up,” I snapped, my voice not sounding right in my head.

Then in a soft pop, sound came back in, more grating and painful than the ringing. People were yelling, one in particular.

“Stay the fuck down, Becky,” Gabriel growled. “I don’t know what other injuries you’ve got, and I’m not lettin’ you hurt yourself.”

I kept struggling. “Other injuries?” I repeated, my ears still ringing. “I don’t have any. I’m fine. Where’s Rosie and Lucy? Are they okay?”

“Stop,” he commanded, taking my neck in his hands. “Babe. You are injured. Stop movin’ so I can put some pressure on that.”

I stared at him. He wasn’t looking into my eyes, but at my forehead. “What?”

I answered my own question as warm liquid trickled down the side of my face and I put my hand up to my cheek. It came back red.

“Oh,” I said, vacantly.

“Yeah,” he clipped. “Now tell me, you hurt anywhere else? You can feel all your toes?” His gaze flickered down my body.

I followed it, taking stock with my mind. My cropped white shirt was no longer white and it was streaked with black marks. There was a rip in my jeans and one of my sneakers was missing.

“These are my favorite jeans,” I moaned. “Where’s my shoe?”

He frowned at me.

Before he could say anything, Gage crouched beside him, his usually emotionless face showing a twinge of something.

Concern, maybe.

Or, more unsettling, fear.

“She okay?” he clipped, his eyes running over my body much in the same way Gabriel’s had.

“I lost my shoe,” I answered before Gabriel could.

His jaw was hard as he turned to Gage. “I think she’s got a concussion,” he said, gathering me gently in his arms.

Everything spun as I was lifted and could view the carnage. “Rosie,” I said, my voice panicked. “Lucy, are they okay?”

Gage nodded. “Banged up, but Cade’s got Rosie and Keltan tore away with Lucy to the hospital before we could fuckin’ blink.”

My heart dropped. “Hospital?” I repeated, my mouth full of ash.

He nodded again, his face grim. “She’ll be fine. Broken wrist, most likely.”

He moved with us as men ran with guns out and sirens sounded in the distance.

Gage regarded me. “Could have been worse. Much worse. If it weren’t for you.”

Gabriel’s arms tightened around me.

“How’d you know?” Gage continued, his voice flat, not accusing, not curious, not anything.

Gabriel’s head whipped to his friend. “Jesus, brother. You save the interrogation for when my woman isn’t fuckin’ bleeding from a head wound,” he growled.

Gage didn’t react to the rage, just nodded. “Not blamin’ her,” he clarified.

We made it into the club room which was full of people. There was no party in sight. It was a strange mix of chaos and stillness. Gwen and Amy’s eyes bulged at the sight of me, and Lily jumped from Asher’s side.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she chanted. “Bex? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”

I nodded, still confused and unable to properly grasp the thoughts bouncing around in my brain. The motion hurt, a lot. “I’m fine,” I said slowly, slurring my words slightly. “My jeans aren’t.” I wiggled my toe. “And I don’t know where my shoe is.”

“Jesus,” Gabriel gritted through clenched teeth. “Someone find Becky’s fuckin’ shoe,” he ordered to no one in particular.

Then he set me down on the sofa, which a few people were crowded around.