Out of the Ashes (32 page)

When he finally plunged inside of me, I almost came from him just filling me, from his brutal thrust.

He hovered over me, not moving. I could feel every inch of his body tense, his mouth hovering over mine. “I’m never leavin’ you,” he promised in a low voice. “No matter what,” he added before he started to move and no more words were spoken. No more words were needed.

A loud groaning sound awoke me. I weakly unstuck my eyes and searched for the source, groggy and confused. The sound repeated and I discovered it was coming from me, or more accurately my stomach. It occurred to me I hadn’t eaten since lunch at Rosie’s, and by the look of the light peeking through the windows it was the next day. I flinched at the reason why I hadn’t eaten. Steve. Ava. Dead. Another thought assaulted my mind, one more important than my own grief, more important than the empty space in my bed that had previously been occupied by a large biker. Lexie.

I jumped out of bed and almost tripped in my haste. I looked down. Motorcycle boots. He was still here. Of course he was. I hadn’t forgotten his firm promise in the moonlight. As much as I wanted to focus on that, I couldn’t. My mind was instantly overrun with the grim reality of the loss I had to battle through. That Lexie had to battle through.

But first, coffee.

Stumbling downstairs was hard through the cloud of grief that threatened to bring me to my knees, but I managed. The smell of bacon and coffee carried through from the kitchen, as did the voices.

“Do you think we should wake Mom?” I heard Lexie ask.

I moved to lean against the doorway to the kitchen and felt my heart flutter slightly.

“We’ll let her sleep, Lex. She’ll wake when she’s ready,” Zane answered softly.

He was standing at the stove, with his back to me, as was Lexie, leaning against the counter close to him. She was wearing her PJ’s and sipping from a mug. Zane was fully dressed, his cut resting on the back of a chair at the table.

“Either that or her body will go into caffeine withdrawals,” Lexie joked with a lightness that held a note of sorrow. My girl was being strong.

There was silence for a moment, the sizzling of the bacon the only sound in my small kitchen. I contemplated announcing my presence, but there was a peace in the silence between them, a companionable silence. I was loath to interrupt the sight of Zane doing such a domestic task as cooking breakfast, chatting to my daughter. It looked so natural. Don’t asked me how my little girl in her owl-printed PJ’s and a huge biker covered in tattoos, both standing in my kitchen looked natural. It just did.

She peered at him over her coffee cup, still not seeing me. “Do you believe in Heaven, Zane?” she asked on a broken note.

I choked up at the pain behind her small question. I almost pushed off the wall and gathered her in my arms. Zane was quicker than me.

He moved the pan off the burner and turned to face Lexie. His hand moved to cup her face lightly.

“Not sure about God, girl. Don’t believe in something that would cause so much pain to people that deserve a lifetime of happiness,” he stated roughly. “But I do believe those people, those good people, go somewhere better, somewhere they deserve,” he continued quietly, eyes on Lexie.

She stared at him, blinking rapidly. “You think Steve and Ava are there?” she asked quietly with almost childlike desperation.

Zane moved his other hand to cup her face. “Know it, darlin,’” he promised.

She smiled weakly at him, then her eyes flickered over to me.

“Mom!” she cried out, setting her cup down.

She ran over to me and into my arms. I embraced the warmth of my daughter, and rested my head on her shoulder. My eyes met Zane’s, something passing through the two of us that I could barely swallow. I didn’t get to think too hard on it before Lexie pulled back, her red eyes searching mine. She seemed to pull herself together and plastered a weak smile on her face.

“Zane made us breakfast,” she declared, gesturing to the table that was set. “And coffee. I’ll get you some,” she added, seeing me eye her cup enviously.

She moved to the pot, leaving Zane and I staring at each other. Lexie seemed nonplussed at waking up to him in the house, making her breakfast on what could possibly be the hardest day of her life so far. Maybe that was why she was nonplussed. She also appeared to be clinging to the strength that seemed to emanate of his strong body. Whatever it was, she was acting like Zane had woken up with us every morning for years. I was only too aware he hadn’t. No man had. I wouldn’t know how to act with a normal guy in our domestic environment, let alone a burly, half mute biker. One that I was madly in love with.

Before I had the chance to think on it, Zane closed the space between us, his hand going to my neck. He pressed his lips to my head softly. I sank against him slightly, reveling in the comfort of his touch, of the intimate gesture. His lips left my head and his eyes moved to mine. He searched them a moment.

“Hard day for my girls,” he murmured, eyes moving to Lexie who was standing close to us with my coffee cup. For once, I didn’t feel the need to pounce on the coffee wielding child. Instead, I wanted to prolong this moment for as long as possible. Zane put his hand to the back of Lexie’s neck in a similar hold to the one he had on me.

“You’ll get through it,” he promised. “Get to the sunshine on the other side.” He looked at us a moment more then released us, moving back to the stove. Lexie handed me my coffee silently. I took it and we watched Zane move bacon and eggs onto the table. That companionable silence descended once more.

“We have placemats?” I asked, breaking it.

Lexie and I both giggled at the absurdity of people like us having such an item. People who spent most of their time eating out. And when Lexie did cook something that didn’t have a thousand “superfoods” in it, we ate on our laps in front of the TV. The kitchen table was used for the consumption of coffee, pizza and sometimes the odd breakfast. Nothing needing placements. So we laughed. Zane stood there watching us, his eyes warm. When we had finished with our hysteria, he did that little half smile of his.

“Yeah,” he said quietly to both of us, “my girls will get through this.”

Whether it was his words, or our ability to laugh after having our hearts broken, or both, I believed him.

“Do you believe in Heaven?”

Bull’s eyes had moved from the pan to the beautiful and glistening eyes of a kid he was starting to think of as his own. No. He wasn’t starting to think it. He knew it. Lexie was his. As was Mia. That’s why it fucking gutted him to see the pain etched in Lexie’s face as she asked the question. Why it ripped him apart inside to see her collapse yesterday. Seeing Mia succeed in being strong for her daughter while she bled internally. Floored him to see how much strength they both had. Gave him strength, renewed vigor to fight his own demons.

It grated him that this was a hurt he couldn’t save them from, protect them from. The first time he saw them in two weeks was when both of their beautiful faces were contorted in pain. He was thankful as fuck he chose to come back today, after realizing he could barely live two weeks without the woman who consumed his mind. The kid who lit up his life.

“Not sure about God, girl. Don’t believe in something that would cause so much pain to people that deserve a lifetime of happiness,” he answered honestly. “But I do believe those people, those good people, go somewhere better, somewhere they deserve,” he continued.

Bull didn’t believe in Heaven. Wished he could. Wished with every fiber of his being that he did. That might have made the fight against his own personal demons that much easier. Given him another weapon in his arsenal. To know
she
might be in that place, whole and healed from the horrors life had given her in her final hours. But the darkness that he welcomed as an old friend, the one inside his soul told him there was nothing but black. Nothing to help. Nothing to ease the guilt. Not that he’d ever educate Lexie on this fact. He’d tell a thousand lies about a kingdom in the sky to his last breath if that meant he could protect her from the hurt.

“Do you think Ava and Steve are there?” she asked in a voice so vulnerable he knew he needed to give her everything he could to protect her.

He cupped her face. “Know it, darlin,’” he lied.

The look of relief on her face was almost enough to make him believe there was something else. Surely the universe wouldn’t be that cruel to take something away from someone like Lexie and not give her guardian angels in return.

Her head turned. “Mom!” she exclaimed, and ran over to embrace her mother.

Mia looked beautiful even with her frame sagging from the weight of her grief. Even wearing the weak mask she had to protect her daughter from the extent of her sorrow. She was the most beautiful fuckin’ woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Ever. And he knew it. She was. That thought stabbed him in the heart as he locked eyes with her over Lexie’s shoulder.
She
had been beautiful. In every way. Inside and out. It was an innocent beauty. In a way her life had never given her pain, hardship or a rough road. Bull knew life had given Mia pain, hardship and a rough fuckin’ road. All the ingredients to chip away at beauty and ruin it. Instead it added to it. Made her beyond beautiful. A fuckin’ supernova.

So when Lexie moved away from her mother he had no choice but to go to her. To lay his lips on her head. Feel her warmth. Smell her sweet scent. Give her any strength it was possible to give her. Because he would give her and Lexie every ounce of whatever he had left in him to give them sunshine, give them a smooth road. He already knew they were the only fuckin’ light in the pitch black that was his life. Made him think something could grow out of the charred ashes of his soul. He knew in that moment he could never live in the darkness again.