Hold Me Close (Devil's Chariots Motorcycle Club Book 1) (3 page)

“’Night Beth.” He nodded, pulling away from her embrace, and walked out the door.

***

The tears came out of nowhere. What the fuck was wrong with her? She had expected to be crying by the end of the day. But she'd had no reason to think it'd be over Johnny and not Dan.

He didn't want her to hug him. He was uncomfortable. She could tell that much. And it'd hurt her. Why? Why was she that hurt over it?

Clearing the dishes out of the room and cleaning up the kitchen helped to take her mind off of it. Yes, she would eventually want a man again. But not this soon. And not him. Not Johnny. He was Dan's best friend. That was wrong.

Feeling this way was wrong. That's what she told herself all night.

And then she cried until she fell asleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

He'd drank until he couldn't see straight and it didn't help. He'd taken a hot little number back to the clubhouse and it didn't help. Nothing was helping. Nothing was stopping him from having the thoughts and feelings that he was having.

She was next to him. The cute little vixen. Another redhead. What the fuck made him keep choosing redheads? He hadn't even really been attracted to her.

Nothing about her excited him. Even when she'd stripped for him and shook her ass to that song. Nothing. She was just another girl. Another one in an endless line. Another name he wouldn't remember tomorrow.

He wanted to wake her up and tell her to go home. He started to, and decided that he'd leave instead. The pounding in his head didn't feel up any kind of argument from her because she'd told herself he was the man of her dreams.

Fuck that. He was nobody's dream. He was a nightmare. A waste of space on this planet. It should have been him and not Dan that was killed that night. Then Dan would be able to wrap his arms around Bethany and comfort her. Like he should. The way that Johnny couldn't. Even if he wanted to. Badly.

***

Bethany sat up in the bed, her mind filled with the images from the dream she'd just had. Her body felt hot and flushed. Her face was likely a deep red from the embarrassment of what she was feeling. Her mind guilty.

She sat there for a moment and tried to regain her composure. Why did that have to be a dream she could remember? Especially when it was so graphic. So real. So intense.

Deciding that a drink sounded perfect, Bethany made her way downstairs. She hated herself for the way that she was feeling. She was getting far too attached to Johnny. It was like she needed him. Like she needed his approval and needed his presence in her life.

And he gave it. All of it. He was there for her. The question she had was: Why? At first she'd thought it was because he needed her too. He was dealing with the same things she was. The same feelings. The same guilt.

When they'd gotten close she thought maybe that was why. He wanted to. He had become attached to her as well. She had let herself believe that maybe he was there for her.

Now she questioned it. She wondered if maybe he was still there simply out of obligation to his friend that was gone. Taking care of things for him. The way they all did.

She sipped on the drink and wondered for the hundredth time that day why she cared so much and if it was completely wrong that she did.

***

It's like it was habit. He'd headed out to ride around and clear his head. That, and to give the girl time to wake up and realize she may as well leave.

Yet here he was. Outside her house. Wanting so badly to knock on the door. To sit with her. He needed to feel less alone and this was always the place he went to for that.

Her light was on. Was she still up? He wondered if she'd sat there crying over Dan after they left. Then he felt the twinge of guilt for being outside the house in the middle of the night. More guilt passed through him for comforting himself in whiskey and cheap women while she was alone and hurting.

But he couldn't comfort her. Not the way he needed to. Wanted to. He had to distance himself. His feelings were wrong.

The debate about whether to go to the door or not seemed to weigh on forever in his mind. His mind told him to drive away. His heart told him to stay.

***

Bethany knew he was there. She'd seen the lights of his bike and heard him shut the engine off. Yet he wasn't coming to the door.

Her heart was pounding. Her mind was racing. The pictures from her dream were flashing in her eyes and she felt herself heat up again. Partly from excitement and partly from embarrassment.

She couldn't answer the door flushed and excited. That wouldn't be a good thing.
If
she answered the door. So far he didn't seem to be in a hurry to get off the bike. What if he just left? How would she handle it if she knew he was there and he just started the bike and drove away as if he wasn't?

The sound of his approaching footsteps relieved her of the panic building inside. She felt her pulse race a little faster and a strange fluttery feeling in her stomach took over as she waited on the sound of his knock.

***

The first thing Johnny could think was that she certainly hadn't been crying. Her cheeks were pink and her skin somewhat clammy looking. She was flushed, but not in a bad way. She looked like a woman that'd had an amazing night.

Jealousy shot through him like an arrow into his soul. Had she really been with a man? He didn't want to believe it. Not her. Not now. Not when it had been such a short time since Dan had been killed. Not when it wasn't him.

The guilt followed. Of course she'd want attention. Affection. She was a woman. No doubt that she had needs. Why would she turn to him to fulfill them? They were friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But it didn't stop him from feeling enraged. Wanting to hurt the man that had been fortunate enough to touch her. Lucky enough to kiss those lips and look into those bright eyes.

It struck him then and there. Her eyes seemed alive. Happy. And he realized as he stepped in behind her that his only problem was he wasn't the one to put that look there.

***

Her excitement wore off quickly. Yet again he smelled of cheap perfume and liquor. He'd been drinking. With a woman, she presumed. No wonder he'd been in such a hurry to leave. Johnny had needed to go and satisfy Johnny.

It was probably just guilt that brought him to her door in the middle of the night. But it wasn't even guilt because he cared for her. It was guilt over leaving her alone after a day of moving her husband's belongings out of the house. Bailing on her to go get his jollies with the easiest chick he could find in the bar.

The not-so-subtle reminder of what this man was about helped to ground her. She didn't need that life. She didn't need a man that cared more about cheap thrills and booze than her. Not that she wanted him to care about her. Or maybe she did.

Her brain was confused as she picked up her drink and plopped her ass back onto the sofa. “Were you at least kind enough to kiss her goodbye and thank her?” The jealous question came out of nowhere and surprised them both.

Johnny didn't bother to answer. She didn't expect he would. Because the answer would probably show just how rude he was.

He walked over to make himself a drink. She both liked and hated that he felt that comfortable there. At that moment, she hated everything. She just wanted to make it all go away. Especially the anger and jealousy that kept building deep inside her at the thought of him with another woman.

“We need to talk,” he said, and turned towards her, drink in hand.

CHAPTER FIVE

Johnny prepared himself for the conversation. He wasn't sure how he was going to say what he had on his mind. It was a talk that probably shouldn't be had over drinks in the middle of the night. But her anger at him had driven it home. It was time.

She didn't think very highly of him. He had known that in the very beginning. He was a part of the club that had managed to get her husband killed. He knew how she felt about them all.

It was unfounded. What the hell did she expect when she'd gotten involved with Dan? She'd known he was a brother. She'd known what that meant. Hell, she had to accept it to be his old lady. So why resent them for the ways things had gone?

Johnny felt cold-hearted thinking that way. It wasn't like he was okay with Dan’s death. As his wife, Beth was even less okay. He understood it. She was blaming the club the way he blamed himself. For not being there. They didn't protect Dan. She resented that.

But then she'd softened up. He thought they'd become friends. That she'd realized he wasn't the person she'd thought he was.

But that look and those words had been cold. She thought he was the kind of man to fuck them and send them home. He wasn't. Well, maybe sometimes. Okay, most of the time. Until lately.

Because she was the one ruining his fucking sex life. Her and those damned near perfectly kissable lips.

She was looking at him with questions in her eyes. Waiting to see what he had to say. He just wasn't sure if she was going to be hurt or happy with the words he spoke.

The potential answer scared him a lot more than it should have.

***

She was chastising herself internally. She'd let the jealousy show. Now he wanted to talk and was hesitating. That could only mean it had bothered him. He was about to say something to her about it. Make it clear that he was uncomfortable with the whole thing. How embarrassing to be called out, especially considering the circumstances.

“Johnny… I…” She paused. How the hell did a person explain something they did that they didn't mean to do, but yet
did
mean to do?

“I'm leaving,” he blurted out before she could finish her thought.

The words hit her harder than a rejection would have. Leaving? What did that mean?

“Leaving here? You just poured a drink.” She was confused. Why would he stop to tell her he was going home as if it were serious?

“The town. I'm going back out.” And that is when she realized exactly how much this man meant to her. “The club has a job for me. I'll still pop in and check on how things are. See if you need any protection. But for now I'll be random. Not nearly as often as I have been here until now.”

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Forget racing pulses. She felt it slow to almost stopping. She couldn't inhale any air when she tried. It was almost like she'd been sucker punched and couldn't regain her footing.

He was leaving. He was done with her. She wouldn't see him any longer. No more late night drinks and movies. No one to call when the house was empty and silent. For a job. The same thing Dan had done. And she'd never seen him again.

“I see.” It was all she could get out without tears. And if this conversation went much further there
would
be tears.

***

God damn it! She was going to cry. He couldn't handle it. If she cried he'd long to dry her tears. He'd want her in his arms. He'd need to soothe her.

The look on her face was hard to read. She was hurt. She was sad. She was angry. But why?

Johnny couldn't help but wonder if she had feelings for him. He also couldn't help but wonder if that meant anything. After all, he was her husband's best friend and her husband hadn't been gone very long. Wasn't the two of them feeling something for one another a disaster waiting to happen?

“I wasn't planning to stay around,” he began, and watched her turn her head away from him. Yep. She was fucking crying. In that brief moment of uncertainty, Johnny wished he'd stayed in the hotel with that whore he'd brought home. At least her tears wouldn't be like sharp blades into his soul.