Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(73)

"I don't think so," I said meekly.

"I know. No one does."

"What was her name?" I asked after another minute of silence had dripped  by. Time had slowed to a crawl. I was thinking of Jeremy, and my own  family, and Reign as a teenager …

"Miranda," he answered quickly. Saying her name hurt him, you could see it in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Reign," I finally whispered, meaning it with all my heart.  It killed me to see him looking so haunted. I reached up, touched the  mark over my eye, which had faded some but still felt tender to the  touch. So that's why he was so eager to help …

"Just come here," he said, and reaching out grabbed my shoulders,  pulling me back against him. One arm snaked across my chest and down my  stomach, holding me by the waist. His face buried into my wild black  hair. I felt his heartbeat against my spine.

We lay like that for a long time. Billy Joel wondered if his girlfriend  was right, if he was crazy. Led Zeppelin offered to give someone a whole  lotta love. Paul Simon talked about all the ways you could leave your  lover, and Cream basked in the sunshine of someone's love. And then  another tune started. A familiar one. Not familiar in the way all the  other songs had been, because everyone knows them and has heard them a  million times.

Familiar to me in a way that could only be described as intimate.

I didn't know why, but it struck fear so deep into my heart that I could  actually feel the cold sweat as it pushed its way out of my pores. My  airways seemed to constrict; I was being strangled! But there were no  hands around my neck … I desperately breathed in through my nose, could  barely take in enough air to speak. My nails dug into Reign's thigh as  my body stiffened and went rigid, flashes of nightmarish violence  bursting in my skull.         

     



 

From somewhere that seemed very far away, Reign called my name, shook my  shoulders, asked what was wrong, what was wrong. I couldn't respond. My  tongue had swollen, filling my entire mouth.

Pick up your money,

pack up your tent,

you ain't goin' nowhere …





24





"Why now? What happened in the car? Jesus, Gabriella, you could at  least … " Reign said, his brow furrowed, eyes barely concealing a feverish  need for her to take back what she'd said. He'd never told anyone about  his sister, except for Honey, and the moment he did, his confidant was  ditching him.

Well that's what you get, his mind told him. That's payback for letting  Miranda down, for letting them all down, for not protecting them the way  you should have. You don't deserve to have someone like Gabriella.

But even as his mind told him that, in the least sympathetic of tones,  he couldn't just roll over and give up and let her go  –  not just yet.  Gabriella stood before him, shaking, eyes wide and ready to brim over  with tears.

"I … I don't know, I can't explain it, Reign, I don't know, I just … I have  to go. Now, tonight. I can't … not another … I have to … " Gabriella tripped  over her words, her anxiety making each syllable crash into the next.  She was shaking all over, her fingers looking like they were  power-typing in mid-air.

After watching her park haphazardly outside her room and dash back and  forth with her few belongings, including that signature blue duffel bag,  he'd managed to convince her to come to the bar and pick up some food  for her trip  –  she hadn't eaten since that mega-bacon cheeseburger the  night she'd arrived.

Now, he almost regretted dragging her into the dirty, dingy bar  –  it  wasn't exactly an ideal location for their goodbye. He didn't want her  to remember him as the guy in the bar who kissed her goodbye while their  shoes stuck to the floor and boisterous, hairy men shouted in the  background.

"Please, Gabriella, one more night and I swear, I'll … "

"No! Reign, no! No more nights! You … you can … .oh, god, I have to go. Come  with me," Gabriella said. The look on her face as she blurted out the  last part told him that she was as surprised to be saying it as he was  to have heard it. She bit her lip, her eyes falling still for once on  his face. He reached out, stroked her arm, and shook his head.

You can't, you know you can't, he thought, visions of his brothers  flashing through his head. For some people, the time came to make a  choice between their family and their love. For Reign, that time was  now; it wasn't his "real" family, but it was the realest he'd ever  known. He wanted to go with Gabriella. Wanted it so hard his teeth felt  like they would crack from how hard he was clenching his jaw. He wanted  it so hard that he could feel the wanting inside him, the way a heroin  addict wants their smack.

But he couldn't, and that was the royal bitch of it.

She nodded, understanding in her eyes, and took a deep breath. Closing  her eyes, she seemed to steady herself. His hand lay on her forearm,  fingers gently stroking the skin, the warmth where there skin met as  comforting and homey as a fireplace roaring in the middle of winter  while a storm blew outside. She felt like home, when he touched her.

And now, with her leaving, he got the idea he'd feel homeless for a long time.

When Gabriella opened her eyes again, Reign knew that she hadn't changed  her mind  –  and wouldn't. He could argue more, try to persuade her to  stay, but he'd be wasting his time and hers. Better he accept it, bade  her well, make sure she made it to town limits at least. He dropped his  head.

"Okay. I get it. But wait, half an hour, please?"

"Reign, I'm not … I'm not in the mood … " Gabriella said, sounding half  ashamed and half frustrated. He had to be a bit amused; she thought he  wanted to get one last bone session in before she left? Far from it. If  he touched her any more than he was then, he'd have to hang himself  after she left.

"No, I have some things for you. I got them early this morning while you  were sleeping. They'll … they'll help," he said. "They're at my place  though. Will you wait for me to come back? Please?"

Gabriella nodded, her eyes now filling with tears, seeming even deeper  and wiser than they usually did. Something about the way that salt water  pooled above her lower eyelid made her eyes sparkle. It broke Reign's  heart to see her cry, but he had to admit she looked beautiful doing it.

If you stay with me, I'll make sure you'll never cry again, he thought,  wanted to say, kept inside his throat. He turned from her, exiting the  bar quickly. As he turned, he watched her collapse into a stool, her  elbow hitting the surface of the bar with an audible smack. She lay her  head in her palm, her black hair forming a curtain around her face. On  the far side of the bar, he saw Honey watching them with interest. She  couldn't hear anything, but Reign bet she knew what was happening. Endo  was looking over, too.         

     



 

Great, glad you fuckers caught the damn matinee, this is a one-time-only  performance, he thought bitterly, pushing the doors open. Anger was  growing inside him alongside the sadness, and the feeling of loneliness  that had already taken root in his heart in anticipation of what it  would feel like to watch Gabriella drive away. He trotted to his  apartment behind the bar, willing himself to keep his emotions in check  long enough to see her off with a forced smile on his face. She probably  felt bad enough, he didn't need to make her feel any worse by acting  like a child.

In his apartment, the cool air that usually brought immediate relief  from the desert heat offered no salve for his pain. He gathered the few  items he'd managed to gather in the short time Gabriella had been in  Ditcher's Valley. How long had that been? How long had she been there?  Two days? Three days? How had she made him feel this way in such little  time? He, who used to brag about his lone wolf nature, who thought he'd  never need a woman around to make him feel whole, had let himself fall  hard over the short course of three days.

It seemed impossible. It seemed like something that only happened in cheesy romance novels. But there he was, living proof.

And damn, did he hate it.

Gabriella's face was not the one looking back at him from the passport  and driver's license he held, but it was close. The face on both  documents was much more Latina. But it would do. It would pass. It was  the same fake passport, the same fake driver's license, that the club  doled out to illegal immigrants who could afford the luxury  get-into-America package.

The names were different, but the pictures were the same. Gabriella was  so much more beautiful than all those other women, Reign felt  irrationally ashamed to be giving her the forged documents. But they'd  have to do; he hadn't had enough time to get her to sit for a new  picture.

The phone he'd bought was the same model, style, and carrier as his own.  Commonly known as a burner phone, and most often associated with shady  figures hanging out in alleys, handing out free samples of low-grade  black tar heroin to anyone who copped a dimebag. But it, too, would do.  It would have to.