“Do you want a beer?” Ivy asks.
“No, but thanks for the food. I don’t get many home cooked meals,” he says.
“Why?” she questions.
He swallows the food in his mouth before looking up at us. It’s none of our business, but I’ll admit I’m curious to know what Finn’s story is.
“I grew up with no dad around and a drug addict mom. I’ve been taking care of myself as far back as I remember. There was no one making homemade meals or even teaching me how to do it,” he says, with a shrug.
Ivy looks at me, but I keep my focus on Finn. He’s a good-looking guy. His dark hair is the perfect contrast to his green eyes. He’s got a young, innocent look to his face, but his solid, muscular body, covered in tattoos, says differently. He looks like a badass with a soft side. I don’t know Finn well, but as a woman, I’d say he has no problem getting someone in bed. I shake my thoughts and ask, “How’d you get hooked up with the club?”
He laughs and it’s nice to see. He’s always so serious, trying to prove himself. “There was this guy that used to drive past our trailer. I have no idea who he was, but he was definitely a Shattered Soul.” He guzzles down his water and we wait for him to continue. “I loved watching that Harley go by. I would hear it and run outside, just to see him. He was like this powerful, strong, in charge guy. Something I didn’t have the presence of. Anyway, one day I heard the bike and ran outside. Normally, he just drove past, and I never saw where he went. This time though, he went to the trailer a few down from mine. I stood there in complete amazement as he went inside and two seconds later was dragging out the guy who lived there. I didn’t see him kill the guy, but I watched him beat the shit out of him, before pulling him into the wooded area close by. I heard the gunshot, watched him walk out alone, and drive away. I found out a few days later that the guy he killed had raped some young woman. He became a hero to me, and I knew I wanted to be like him. So, when I was old enough, I found the Shattered Souls and waited until I was old enough to become a prospect.”
Both Ivy and I wipe our tears. Damn, what an emotional story. “Did you ever tell the club?”
“No,” he whispers.
“You should. They’d be able to tell you who that guy was. It’s an amazing story, Finn,” I say in awe.
He finishes off his dinner and stands up. “We’ll see,” he says, bringing his plate to the kitchen. “I’m gonna stay in the kitchen, that way I can see the back door and hear the front door.”
I want to argue with him. Tell him that he should relax a little, but I won’t. That story was so personal to him, but he shared it with us. I realize now why it’s so important to prove himself, so he gets patched in.
“Alright, Ivy, pour us a shot.”
It’s two in the morning and I hear Zane come in. Relief floods me, but at the same time, I start to feel angry. It’s unreasonable, I know he’s taking care of club business. It just feels like I’m taking a backseat right now. It’s selfish, I realize that, but I can’t help it. He opens the door and turns on the closet light. He obviously thinks I’m sleeping, so he’s trying to be quiet.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He spins around, the light of the closet behind him makes his front almost completely dark. “Christ, you scared me. I didn’t mean to wake you, babe.” He holds onto the frame of the closet and he must be looking at me, although I can’t actually tell.
“You didn’t, I was up.” I lean over and turn on the lamp on the nightstand.
He pushes off the frame and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “You feeling alright?”
“I feel fine. Just missing you,” I say, reaching my hand out to touch his.
“Sorry Harper, I just -”
“Have club business, I know Zane,” I say, cutting him off.
He turns to face me, one leg curled on the bed, the other planted on the floor. “You’re pissed?”
It’s not really a question, he can obviously tell I am from my tone alone. He moves closer, shaking his head. His eyes are dark and dangerous, causing a chill to run through me. Shit.
“You think I’d rather be out there dealing with the shit I am? I have no choice. Everything I’m doing is for you, to protect you. If you can’t fucking accept that, we’ve got a serious problem,” he growls.
I close my eyes briefly and when I open them, I can see the pain in his eyes. He’s dealing with so much more than I know and I’m adding to that. I need to take some time and find the old Harper. The one whose scars were only on the inside, so hiding the rest was easier. I can’t let a weaker version of myself be the outcome of all of this. I need him, more than the air in my lungs, but he needs me, too. He needs me to be strong and supportive. To know that he isn’t in this alone.
I get on my knees and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Z. It’s selfish of me to be pissed because I’m missing you. I know you have a lot going on, and I’m right here with you, baby. I will always be right beside you,” I whisper.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly to him. “You have no idea what I’m dealing with and it’s better that way, but it’s fucked up shit. I need time to find the answers to all these questions,” he says with a sigh.
“Go take a shower and come to bed. You need sleep and a fresh start. You’ll find the answers, baby.”
He kisses my cheek and goes to shower. I lay there wondering what else could possibly be going on. Between my father, the notes, and club member’s homes being broken into, what the hell else could be piled on top? I know he can’t tell me, but maybe he can say just enough.
I look up at the ceiling and without thought, my finger traces the scar down my chest through my shirt. It’s ugly and I still hate looking at it. I try to remember all the things Zane has said about it being a symbol of our love, but it’s hard to see that. It’s why I won’t wear anything that allows it to be seen. I don’t want the sympathetic eyes from everyone staring, and I don’t want the anger I feel when I see it. Keeping it hidden behind my shirts makes things easier. I’m used to hiding my scars, why should this be any different?