The both of us were ready to collapse as we booked into a motel in Malvern, Arkansas.
The place was cozy, homelier than your usual side of the highway motel that you passed by in these towns. With large fluffy pillows on the bed that reminded me of soft cotton clouds— adorned with a mint on each—I was completely sold.
Not that either of us really cared about comfort or treats at that stage, barely running on fumes as the adrenaline had sucked all the life from our bodies. I collapsed onto the king bed, wiggling my body into the most divine comforter that slowly molded around me like a cocoon as I sunk deeper into it.
“This is heaven,” I moaned, reaching for the button of my pants, desperate to get out of my riding leathers and possibly climb into a hot ass shower before I succumb to sleep. I had no other clothes and the ones I was wearing smelled like smoke and sweat, a less than inviting combination. Every time I caught a whiff of myself and the smoke that lingered, I wanted to be sick all over again.
I tugged off my jacket, quickly followed by my T-shirt and breathed a sigh of relief to feel somewhat free of the day.
“I’m having a shower,” Eagle rumbled as he dumped the small bag he’d brought in with him—which had been hidden in his saddlebags—on the floor beside the bed, and continued on into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
We were both in foul moods.
It had been a shitty fucking day.
Our bodies ached.
Our minds were still trying to figure out what the hell had happened.
And on top of all that, Leo had warned me that Eagle was battling his own demons that tended to rear their ugly heads at times of stress and in situations like today. Leo had even offered to ride back to us so he could keep an eye on his friend, and protect me from unknowingly setting him off and dealing with the ramifications.
I’d declined.
I knew that no matter what, Eagle wouldn’t hurt me. His protective instincts were too strong to take over any other crazy emotions that might build up inside him.
Either way, I had Leo’s number on speed dial if anything happened. Apparently his voice was usually enough to pull Eagle out of any dark haze that might settle around him.
I had to fight the part of my brain that told me to ask questions, desperate to know just what goes on in his mind and what he’d been through in his past to make him that way. I already knew it was some form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and I’d pretty confidently assumed it was from when he was in the army.
My heart went out to soldiers, men and women who were willing to not just put their bodies on the line, but to possibly give up parts of their own sanity and lose their minds because they decided to fight for their country. It was one thing to stand up for your family, to put yourself in harm’s way for the people you loved and cared about. But these people, they were putting their lives and minds on the line for millions and millions of people who that didn’t even know, who they would most likely never get a thank you from or even an acknowledgment.
It was a great sacrifice to do what they felt was right and I admired that.
I’d dived into that car today in search of a baby who couldn’t protect herself. Who couldn’t fight her way out. And I fought for her. It may not be a miracle or a life-changing sacrifice, but it was something.
I lay on the bed in the hotel room for over ten minutes in my bra and panties, listening to the shower run before I finally decided to venture inside and make sure he was okay. I’d promised Leo on the phone before Eagle had appeared that I would keep an eye on him and let his brother and best friend know if I felt like he wasn’t coping.
Not bothering to knock, I pushed the door open quietly and slipped inside the foggy room. It was completely filled with steam, so I had to squint for a moment to make out Eagle’s figure standing in the oversized shower, his palms pressed against the wall and his head hanging down.
My heart skipped a beat as I used those precious seconds before he noticed I was there to allow my eyes to travel over his body. It was magnificent, a true piece of artwork. His skin had a tanned complexion that I realized now was just natural, wondering if maybe he had some kind of foreign blood running through his veins.
The beautiful color wasn’t overtaken by the tattoos and scars that covered a lot of his torso, or at least what I could see as I leaned against the wall beside the door. There were red, angry slashes at his waist, rounding his stomach and tight puckered circular scars that looked almost like they could be bullet holes.
The tattoos he had decorated his chest and arms mostly, and they were surprisingly soft. Swirls of color weaved and flicked around his biceps and shoulders and onto his chest. I could make out what looked like a constellation of stars and a moon on one side with a rising sun on the opposite. Bands of red and blue were painted together underneath in a gentle wave as though it could be the ocean. I gasped when I realized his entire chest piece was a stunning artistic version of the American flag.
He didn’t turn to look at me, or even bother to try and look surprised that I was there. Of course, he knew the whole time. “What?” he asked. It wasn’t sharp or annoyed, he just sounded tired, unable to give a shit that I was standing there like a creeper watching him shower.
His head was far enough under the faucet, so the spray ran down the back of his neck and over his body, missing his face.
His muscles clenched tightly, and in response, I instantly squeezed my legs together as I felt my body warm to the sight of the naked man in front of me. He was sexy as sin, every fucking muscle on his body was toned to perfection, and it showed with every little movement he made.
He tilted his head, ever so fucking slightly, his eyes meeting mine and striking me like a hot poker to my soul. They were dark and haunted, and I instantly felt a tug of war inside my gut. Part of me wanted to run, to leave him the hell alone with his demons. While the other part of me was pulled in, this magnetic force telling me this was where things were about to change.
Eagle wasn’t like the other brothers, not even close.
Where any of them would have already stripped me out of the barely-there underwear I was wearing and ordered me into the shower with them, Eagle just stood there.
He didn’t use the club girls, I wasn’t sure why, but it wasn’t as if he’d ever made me feel any less or as though I was somehow below him like many other men did. It wasn’t always the easiest conversation to have with guys in my classes at college or men that hit on me out in the street.