Page 6

FIVE

TOON

"The bear's paw print reminds us: leave your mark on the world, however small." — Unknown

There ain’t no party like a Hellions party.

Hellions throw wild parties. Tonight, though the alcohol is more silence than celebration. The clubhouse is lit up with soft, string lights. The music hums low, old classic rock. No roaring engines, no shouting over the noise. Just a low hum of voices with laughter laced in grief.

Tonight is for Clutch.

Benjamin Henderson.

A guy I only dealt with in passing, but never actually knew. A man I owe a lot to. The man who picked up the pieces of her that I broke. I’m leaning against the bar, nursing a beer, eyes scanning the crowd waiting and wondering if she will show.

I feel her before I see her. She walks in, but Dia Crews doesn’t look like herself.

She’s not bright-eyed and vibrant, high on life. She isn’t even the woman I held this morning at the grave lost in her pain, shut down and hollow inside.

Tonight, she’s different. She isn’t healed. Not whole. But standing.

She’s got on black jeans, boots, a cropped leather jacket over a red lace tank top with a black bra under it. Her hair is braided over one shoulder. She doesn’t have on makeup, her eyes are rimmed in shadows and pain. But she’s here. She’s upright and moving.

Maritza is at her side. No one says her name, calling her over to the. As time passes everyone approaches greeting her one at a time not to overwhelm her. This is the Hellions, we read each other and come together to lift our own up when they need it.

Her gaze moves, scanning the room before it lands on me. She sees me. Really sees me. For a second everything ceases to exist, then she looks away.

BW slides up next to me, holding a new bottle of Jack Daniels and two red solo cups. “Told you she’d come,” he reminds me of our earlier argument where I told him everyone needs to stand down and let her take things at her pace.

“You didn’t tell me I’d feel like I got the wind knocked out of me.”

“She’s always had that effect on you,” he says pouring the amber liquid in each cup. “Always has, always will.”

I nod, silent because what is there to say.

“I told her this wasn’t a wake,” I explain, “it’s just our way to remember the best parts of him. The brother and what he brought to our table.”

“She believe you?”

“She’s here, isn’t she?”

He nods, “you’ve always been able to get through to her.”

“Sometimes it’s the other way around, brother.” My mind goes back to the time she got to me and I have never been the same since.

The ride to Dia’s place is quiet, but not uncomfortable. I find I like that about us. We can sit in silence together and it’s not weird. We’re in my truck. The windows rolled down, spring air slipping in with hints of the salt from the ocean surrounding us. She hums along to some song on the radio, low and off key. It makes my chest tighten.

We had dinner. Burgers and shakes, our knees brush occasionally under the booth like secret kisses.

She unlocks her condo door, stepping inside, tossing her keys to the little dish by her entrance. “You want something to drink?” she asks casually.

“Nah, darlin’ I’m good.”

I follow her into the living room, both of us dropping on her couch. Her body curls sideways, feet tucked under her, facing me. I stretch out, resting one arm along the back of the couch behind her, close enough to feel her heat. Close enough to smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo. Absently, I reach out and twist a lock of her hair in my fingers.

She looks at me, her eyes soft. “I’ve been thinking about last weekend, Justin.”

My jaw tightens, the anger coming back. She needs to not ever think about that again. He won’t get to her. BW and I made sure of it. He won’t get to anyone again. “You okay talkin’ about it?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I mean. I was scared. One second I’m dancing and the next everything was spinning. Like out of body. I was there and watching myself but I was out of control. Then poof you were there. Like you knew.”

“I was watching you,” I admit soberly. “Don’t trust men, darlin’. Wanted to make sure you were good.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her fingers pulling at a loose thread on the blanket she keeps draped on the back of the couch. “You didn’t have to swoop in, but you did.”

“Darlin’, I wasn’t about to leave you like that. You’re safe when I’m around, Dia.”

Her eyes flicker before locking on mine. Not fear. Not hesitation. Just something tender and real.

“I feel safe with you,” she whispers. “Even when I couldn’t hold my body up right and didn’t know what was happening, I saw you, I felt you catch me. I knew I was safe. I’m always safe with you.”

“That’s all I ever want to give you, Dia. Safety.’

Her eyes shine. “I just never had that before. Never had anyone protect me when I’m not with the club. And you don’t want anything from me, but to be around me.”

She leans in, almost unconsciously. I sense it. She wants me to kiss her.

I shouldn’t.

I should put a stop to this. I feel her breath mix in with mine. My fingers move on their own accord, tracing her cheek.

We move to each other. The kiss is soft at first. A teasing, testing brush of our lips. Then again, slower. Her lips part. I taste her, delicately embracing the mint and her sweet, hesitant way she’s leaning in but taking this moment in. My hand cups her jaw, holding her steady as she melts into me, opening wider for our kiss to grow as her tongue dances with mine. Her palm flattening against my chest. Shifting, she straddles my lap, the hem of her dress brushing my thighs. Our kiss deepens in this gentle rhythm. It’s not frantic, not rush. No, we’re exploring, savoring. Her hands slide up into my hair, tugging as she presses closer against me.

I’m lost. Intoxicated from her taste. I groan against her mouth, every muscle in my body coiled tight, but I don’t push. I let her set our pace, guide this moment.

For a second, my conscious tells me to pull away, to stop this. But she whimpers with need and that thought escapes me.

When she finally pulls away for air, her lips are swollen, her breathing shallow, and her eyes glistening in want. “Justin,” she whispers.

“Yeah?” I press my forehead to hers.

“Will you? Can we?” she whispers unsure of my reaction.

She doesn’t say it fully, but I know what she means. I don’t answer with words. I simply nod, lifting her easily in my arms as she wraps her legs around my waist carrying her through the condo to her bedroom. With each step, my dick presses painfully against my shorts as she kisses my neck, whispering my name like an answered prayer.

I lay her back gently on her bed, standing for a moment to take her in. Her hair is fanned out on her pillow as her chest rises and falls under her summer dress. Her eyes stay locked to mine.

“You sure?” I ask. “You want this to stop, it stops, no explanation needed.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she says firmly.

I crawl onto her bed, hovering above her.

“I want slow,” she whispers, “I want you, Justin, slowly.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I’ve never done slow. I’ve never done delicate. Leaning down, I kiss her. Our clothes come off piece by piece and I take my time with every inch of her skin.

I worship her flesh. She shivers under my touch, arching into me like she’s been waiting her entire life for this moment.

My fingers slide between her delicate lips finding her wet and ready. I rub slow circles over her clit as she presses into me, moaning into my mouth as I kiss her. One finger enters her, she’s primed as she clinches around my digit. I work her as she pants heavily before breaking our kiss.

“That’s it, darlin’. Let go for me.”

“I need to tell you something,” she pants and I still now with two fingers inside her. “Don’t stop, Justin.” She whimpers and I begin fingering her slowly again.

“Tell me, Dia. What do you want.”

“I want you.” She mutters and thank fuck because I’m rock hard and ready to explode. “You need to know. I’ve never done this before.”

Immediately, I go still. “You mean?”

She nods, “I want this, Justin. I need it to be with you. You’re safe and I want this.”

“You need love, Dia. You need more than this.”

Her face changes and I don’t like the hurt on her features. “Don’t tell me what I need. I’ve been told all my life what I need. Give me this Justin. You’re my best friend. You’re my person. You have seen me at my worst. Give me this moment of control to give myself something good while being safe.”

My chest swells with something I can’t pinpoint. I can’t tell her no. I need to do this right for her.

I press my lips against hers, “thank you,” I whisper. “you’re a gift, Dia. Don’t ever let anyone not treat you as such.”

Her eyes glisten as she shifts her hips making my fingers slide deep inside her again.

“I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

She instantly relaxes ass I press my thumb to her clit and make sure she’s stretched to be able to take me before I move to settle over her between her legs. I ease into her, inch by inch. I go slow as her breath catches. Agonizingly I move delicately watching every reaction and every shift in her body.

When she finally relaxes, the pain of stretching goes away giving into something new inside her. I let her guide the pace. I let the moments build on soft touches everywhere and quiet sighs against her skin as the rhythm between us builds

I work sliding in and out as her fingers grip my shoulders tightly. She holds on for dear life as the momentum between us builds and she begins raising up to meet me thrust for thrust. In moments, she’s crying out my name as I lose control coming inside her knowing I’ve been given the gift of a lifetime and I don’t want to ever let her go.

“You okay?” I ask sliding out before going to get a cloth to clean her up from the remnants of my need and her virginity.

“More than okay. Always okay with you, Justin.”

Pride swells inside me along with something else I can’t describe. What I feel for the woman in front of me is unlike anything I’ve felt before.

I didn’t know it at the time, but what I felt was love. Real, unconditional, fully connected love. BW thinks I can get through to her. He doesn’t know she’s always gotten through to me. She has always gotten through to me no matter the walls I tried to put between us. From the second my body joined hers, she was it for me and I never deserved her. Not even an ounce of her love.

I don’t reply. We sit in silence tossing back the Jack Daniels, drink after drink.

The fire pit out back is burning solid by the time we all make our way outside. Tripp stands, holding a cup and bottle high. Even in his sixties now, the man still stands tall and ready for anything.

“To Clutch. He came here in the most unorthodox way. He caught hell for letting his woman bring him to the patch, but he did so with pride.” Tripp looks to Dia, “my daughter, that man loved you in a way a father could be happy about. To one of the good ones. Benjamin “Clutch” Henderson you will be forever missed.”

The crowd murmurs as everyone raises a cup and we all take a drink in his memory.

I didn’t know the man, but I stand behind him as a brother nonetheless. BW stands up sharing a story of Clutch attempting to fix a bike problem with a shoestring mid-ride once. It didn’t end well and everyone laughed at the memory.

Red shares about a charity Black Jack tournament where Clutch beat three brothers, including Red, and refused to take their money, saying it was all luck, he wasn’t actually good.

People share the humility of the man and I find myself happy that Dia had a taste of that goodness in her life even if for a short time.

A voice comes from the crowd, a female voice, but I’m not sure whose it is. “Dia, do you want to say something?”

My chest tightens in worry for her.

She freezes. I see it. The hesitation. Shoulders stiff, eyes on the fire, jaw stuck. Maritza touches her elbow. I wait for her to shake it off and continue her silence. Instead, she surprises me as her head lifts, her eyes find mine and she speaks.

“Benji hated motorcycles,” she swallows, clearing her throat. Her voice isn’t loud, but it is steady. Her eyes don’t leave mine. “He was everything I never wanted,” she gives a half laugh. “He loved me. He didn’t understand my life, but never judged it. For me, he learned to ride. And he tried. Then he found his footing. Found his place here. He joined the club, not for me, but because he wanted this. He understood family and why all of this matters not just to me but to all of us.”

She looks around finally breaking our stare. “He once told me this was the only place he ever felt like he was accepted exactly as he was. The nerdy, goober, who was as gullible as they came. He said being here, he could walk into a room and be a hundred things at once, smart, soft, tough, loyal, and no one would expect him to be one single thing.”

She brings her gaze back to me. “He gave everything and still I wanted more.” Her voice cracks as I can see she begins to visibly tremble. “I miss his laugh,” she whispers now. “I miss how he never left me without telling me to be safe, like it was a prayer. I miss the stupid way he asked my dog if she approved of dinner before we ate. I miss the way he didn’t ask me to explain myself when I clearly couldn’t make the words make it make sense.”

A tear rolls down her cheek, she doesn’t attempt to stop it.

“I wish we weren’t here tonight. Being here, means he isn’t coming back. I wish he was here. I wish I didn’t have to wish. But that’s all that is left for Benji, unspoken wishes.”

Later, after the stories are over, the alcohol slowing down, I find myself outside leaning against the fence with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth.

Dia is sitting on the steps to one of the duplexes that are crash pads for the brothers. She’s looking up at the stars in wonder.

I want to go to her. I want to say something that matters. The reality is, what could I possibly offer her? She gave her whole world to someone else because I told her to. She gave her goodness, her tenderness, her loyalty to him.

And he deserved it.

And now he’s gone.

I’m still here. The wrong man in love with the right woman, always at the wrong time for us.

I’m a man watching her from afar just how we started. A man wishing I could take the weight off her shoulders. And I’m a man selfish enough to still wish she looked at me like she used to.

I never told her, or anyone, how hard it was for me to walk away. How many nights in Catawba I tried to drink away the part of me that ached to just hear her voice. How many miles I put on my bike running from the memories of her, of our night together.

I have never told her or anyone that every time I meet someone new, I look for pieces of her in them.

Everyone comes up short.

Now, she sits a mere twenty feet away and yet, she feels farther from me than ever before.

She stands, brushes off her jeans, and looks towards me for a second.

I think she knows.

I think she can see all the things I’m not saying.

She nods oncebarelyand then disappears into the clubhouse.

I remain outside. Looking to the stars, I wish she could have it all.

Happiness.

Love,

And I wish I could be the man who gave her everything back.

Except fate doesn’t ask for outside input.

Some endings come too early, before we are ready.

Sometimes I don’t get to be the one who saves her.

Instead, I have to sit back and witness the wreckage.

All I can do is hope I’m strong enough to help her rebuild if she can ever let me in again.