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It Ain't Me, Babe

Page 40

   


Beauty’s blond eyebrows arched. “Join?”
“Yes. Did Styx and that woman have sexual intercourse?”
Her sapphire-blue eyes widened, then relaxed. “Nah, honey. Doubt he even touched her. She was getting off all on her lonesome. Putting on that f**kin’  p**n  show she just has to do.”
I felt my shoulders relax as pent-up tension drained away. I expelled a sigh of relief. Beauty jerked on my arm. “Hey, still doesn’t get the dick off the hook. He was fixin’ to do something with the slut. Christ knows why, when he has you! He’s drunk off his ass, pissed at today, grieving for Lois. I can tell, ’neath it all, he’s real worried ’bout the state of the club. Still doesn’t excuse that f**ked up shit though,” she said as she stabbed a thumb in the direction of their tryst.
I knew why he had been in that hallway. The very sight of my scars repelled him, diminished his affection for me. Was he scared that how he had reacted was a fundamental wrong, somehow a grievous slight against me? But… but… but to go directly to that woman was something I would find difficult to set aside lightly.
Beauty planted her hands on my shoulders. “Leave him be a while. Wait it out. He’ll be back. Then it’s up to you, girl. But just between us, the guy is nuts about you. He just don’t know what the f**k to do with his feelings yet. He’s never ever been with anyone like he is with you. He talks to you. We all see it. He watches you, protects you. Ain’t normally his way. Kinda sweet, really, in his own f**ked-up way.”
Her hands rubbed at my arms soothingly. She reminded me of Lilah—her kindness, light coloring, her protective spirit. For the first time since I escaped The Order, I actually missed home. I missed my best friend. Missed my quiet little sister, Maddie. I missed feeling like I belonged.
“You okay?”
I nodded at Beauty’s concerned face. She turned to knock on that familiar dark wooden door behind us.
“Yeah?” a distant voice called out.
“Rider, it’s Beauty and Mae. Can we come in?”
There were a few moments of stretched-out silence before a quiet, “Yeah, sure.”
Beauty cracked open the door. Lying in the center of his large metal bed at the back of the room was Rider, shirtless, only wearing jeans. A tight cream bandage covered his injured shoulder.
“How are you feeling, honey?” Beauty asked softly and walked over to Rider’s bedside.
“Numb in places, sore in others, but I’m alive,” he replied, trying to be strong, but his voice sounded strained.
It hurt me to see him so broken, the bandage on his arm, the pain he was obviously in. Tears welled up, filling my eyes. The sacrifice Rider had willingly made to save my life struck me hard. He had always been perfect to me.
Tears slipped down my cheeks at his show of strength and I stood as if waiting for a summons, nervously toying with my hands.
Rider rasped, “Mae, get over here.” Raising my head slightly, I did as he asked and moved toward his prone body. I stood awkwardly beside Beauty.
“Hey, you okay? You don’t look so good,” he gently enquired and frown lines crossed his forehead. Rider seemed genuinely concerned—concerned for me. He had been shot, near mortally wounded, yet here he was, protecting me still.
Beauty groaned and shook her head. “Fuckin’ just caught Styx with Dyson.”
Rider raised his brown eyebrows and looked at me with sympathy in his gaze. “What she doing back?”
“Fixin’ to suck Styx’s stupid c**k by the look of it!” Beauty disapproved. I flinched, feeling nauseous and stupid; no, naïve.
“Beauty!” Rider reprimanded harshly. She turned to me, a grimace on her face. “Sorry, Mae. He’s just got me spittin’! Sometimes bikers in this club can be real f**kin’ pricks!”
“Hey!” Rider complained.
Beauty grimaced again. “Fuck! Can’t say anything right, can I?”
“It is okay,” I whispered with a small laugh.
Rider fixed all of his attention on me, shedding his humor. “He’s a f**kin’ fool to choose that bitch over you.”
I tipped my head in contemplation. My head always hurt when trying to figure out Rider. This time a sense of peace gently settled on me, like snowflakes, when I heard his words and drank in his friendly demeanor. Without meaning to, I beamed a smile at Rider. His lips parted with an audible gasp, then he smiled right back at me.
My heart fluttered. He was such a good man.
Beauty coughed, her wide blue eyes darting between us both, her tanned face getting paler by the second. Thankfully, a very loud knock on the door broke the obvious tension in the room.
“Rider? Beauty and Mae in there with you?” Letti bellowed through the barrier of the closed door.
Rider shifted position, wincing with the effort. He held his shoulder with his good hand as he shuffled up the bed. I noticed his torso ripple and I could not help but admire how he looked.
“Yeah. Come on in!” He shook his head, muttering to himself, “The more the f**kin’ merrier.”
Letti walked in, shutting the door, and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “The slut is long gone, Mae. She won’t be back if she values her life.”
“And Styx?” Beauty asked.
“Fuck if I know. Left the stupid ass**le on his own.” She affectionately pulled on a lock of my hair. “He was signing at me like he was in a damn rave. The drunken douche said he didn’t do anything with the slut, couldn’t go through with it. For what it’s worth, I think he’s telling the truth. Prez don’t normally lie.”
I nodded appreciatively at her words and the final remnant of coiled tension in my stomach unraveled. Everyone was watching me and my reaction. I rubbed at my arms, feeling a sudden chill in that dark, windowless room.
“You cold?” Rider asked.
I nodded.
“Beauty, go in my closet and get her a sweater.”
Beauty frowned at Rider but turned to the closet and did as she was told. Finding a hooded black sweater, a picture of a Chopper on the front, Beauty handed it to me.
As soon as I slipped it on, Rider said, “Looks good.”
“Thanks,” I replied, feeling my cheeks blush.
I caught Beauty and Letti bouncing worried looks at each other. I chose to ignore them. Today had been traumatic enough without me trying to figure out what concerned them too.