Page 5

Taylor

One Month.

One month he’s been gone, and we have nothing.

Anger fills me and I slam my fist into the punching bag for the hundredth time, sweat pouring down my face.

We have used every resource we can get our hands on and have come up empty every time.

Aries is gone without a trace.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

Music blares as my fists drive into the bag over and over.

Aries Clark is my hero, who I once hated with every fiber of my being. For the past two years, he has been nothing but a pain in the ass, always telling me what to do, or in most cases, what not to do.

Any other day, I would beg him to leave me alone unless he needed help on a mission, but now, I’d take his disappointed glares or his constant redirections over him not being here.

Using my gloved hand, I swipe the sweat pooling beneath my eyes.

Yep. “Sweat…” Keep telling yourself that.

Ignoring the voices in my head, I swipe once more and drive my fist into the bag.

Pain hits me before I realize what’s happened and I don’t realize that my wrist is screaming in pain until I punch again.

“FUCK!”

Pain radiates up my arm, and I curse myself for being so stupid.

Tears cascade down my face and I make no point to hide them as I cradle my wrist against my chest.

My head falls against the bag, my entire body falling into the hunk of leather.

I feel useless. I feel unworthy of the second chance at life that Aries gave me. He brought me here with a skill set and now I’m sidelined, unable to do the one thing I’m good at.

Why couldn’t he have just trusted me an ounce more to go with him? If he had, I can sure as hell say that I wouldn’t have let them take him. Or at least gone down without sending a distress signal.

Why am I so damn worried about a man that I know is always more annoyed than happy to see me? Why am I breaking down over a man who constantly looks down on me?

Because you care and he saved your life.

Tears fall at the rate of a flash flood, threatening to wash away the concrete walls that I’ve been enforcing for years on end. I try to stop them and focus on the throbbing in my hand, but it’s useless because every time I take my head off the bag, I see the word, survivor, tattooed in script on my forearm. I got the tattoo on my first week at the compound. It was the first of an addiction that now covers my entire body. Despite Ari’s constant judgmental eye, he would always find me in the middle of a session and find something to discuss with me as a tactic of distraction.

I will never forget his words the day he saw me walking out of Zoro, the Clubhouse’s tattoo artist's office, and saw the tiny script on my arm. We hadn’t spoken much, as he was still furious with me. I expected him to ignore me or make a passive-aggressive comment, but he didn’t. He looked at me with those dark chocolate eyes and said, “You are far more than a survivor, Taylor. And if you need a tattoo to remind yourself of that, you might as well get Warrior and Savior too, because that’s what you did for all those girls.”

His words play over and over in my head as if he were here.

“Damn you, Aries!”

My words sound as if I am underwater and I curse myself for letting my emotions get the best of me.

Get it together, Taylor!

“Blaming someone that isn’t here? That’s a new one.”

My head snaps up at the unexpected voice, and I see Tucker and Reagan standing in the doorway.

Tucker is shirtless, of course, and Reagan is in scrubs. Her purple and black hair falling down her shirt in twin braids.

They both move at the same time as I drop to the mat, Reagan’s hands immediately moving to my wrist. “Dammit Tay. Where are your guards? And why is your glove soaking wet?”

I shrug and try my hardest to get my shit together. I’ve come a long way in two years and it’s thanks to the hard work of my therapist, but I still struggle with letting people see me at my lowest moments.

“Tuck. Help me out. This is going to hurt like hell and knowing her, her reflex will be to deck me with her good hand.”

“You got it. Don’t let Tay get you with her left hook,” Tuck says, carefully taking the glove off my non injured hand before grasping it in his.

My teeth grit and I try to not scream in pain as Reagan removes the glove.

Fuck. Why did I let my emotions get the best of me?

“Tay. I told you, if you were going to blast music to shut the door, Indy is on night—”

Boone’s words fall flat as he steps into the doorway and sees the scene in front of him. In one fluid motion, he signals the music to stop and walks over to us.

“What did you do?”

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t bother asking me again. Instead, he turns to Tucker. “Tuck. What did she do?”

“What makes you think I’ll rat out my best friend to someone who kicked me out of his office yesterday for asking a simple question?”

Boone’s eyes narrow at Tucker. Anyone else would fold under his gaze, but not Tucker. As if Boone knows, he turns his attention to Reagan.

“She won’t tell me. Her glove was wet, and she wasn’t wearing her guards, so putting two and two together, her glove slipped and her wrist met the bag.” Her attention turns to me for confirmation.

I know damn well I’m going to get questioned a million times over, so I sigh and say, “I didn’t notice my punch was off because I was going so fast. The pain didn’t register until the second hit, which was my fucked up wrist hitting the bag instead of my fist.”

A collective groan from all three of them echoes throughout the room.

“Tuck, go with Reagan and Taylor to the hospital. Don’t let them out of your sight,” Boone orders. He starts to walk away, but turns around at the last second, his attention directed at me. Something passes over his face and I know he must be feeling the same way I do. Fucking useless.

Lowering his voice and locking his eyes with mine, he says, “I know you are struggling, Taylor, but you’re of no use if you’re hurt. Get your head on straight and get back in the game. We will find him. Because the second we do, it will be my ass that gets kicked for letting something happen to you.”

I want to ask why he keeps saying that, because why would Aries care? But I don’t. Now is not the time.

With the help of Tucker and Reagan, I stand, Reagan holding my wrist.

“Thanks, Bo. But I can handle my own. No need to worry.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself and walks out.

I don’t have a second to let my mind wander to what he wanted to say, because Tucker is dragging me out of the room. “C’mon. I can’t wait to see what Taylor on pain meds is like!”

Reagan reaches around me and smacks the back of his head and Tucker leans forward, sticking his tongue out at her.

As Reagan’s truck pulls past the gates of the compound, the doors open, Boone leading the pack as Indy and Zoro follow behind him.

Tucker hops out from the back seat and my door flies open. Offering his hand, I narrow my eyes at him, but take it anyway and hobble out of the truck. My mind is still a little dazed from the pain medicine.

Reagan meets us at the front of the truck, and we walk towards the guys.

“What’s the verdict?” Boone asks.

Lifting my arm from beneath my jacket, I show them the air cast. “Sprained. Not broken. Will be in this for four weeks.”

Zoro lights his cigarette and leans against the metal wall of the Clubhouse. “Damn Tay. You’re lucky it’s not broken.”

Indy adjusts his beanie over his buzzed head and steals Zoro’s cigarette. Zoro narrows his eyes at Indy and pulls him so that his back is to his chest, his tattooed arms wrapping around his husband's waist.

Indy looks back and places a loud kiss on Zoro’s lips before turning his attention to me. “Taylor, honey, I don’t mean to go all dad on you, but you need to be careful. You may think that you’re not a crucial member of this team, but you are. And we need everyone to be the best right now to find Prez.”

I nod, trying to tamper down the ball of emotion working its way up my throat.

Boone nods in agreement. “What Indy said. Now it’s been a long day. I think everyone could use some sleep.”

We all agree and make our way into the Clubhouse and head toward the living quarters.

Reagan waves goodbye as she and Tucker turn down their hallway, making me promise to call if I need anything. And Zoro and Indy do the same. Leaving me and Boone alone.

I’m just about to open my door when a hand on my arm stops me and I turn to look up at Boone. His face breaks my fucking heart and I want to hug him, but I don’t. Because I know the second I do, I’ll break down…again.

“We are going to find him, Tay. We have to. That man saved my life, and I threw a wrench in his that destroyed everything he loved. I cannot fail him. Not again.”

A million and one questions flood my mind at his words, but I don’t act on any of them. Instead, I meet his dark gaze and muster up every ounce of strength I can to form a smile and say, “We will.”

With that, I walk into my room and close the door, sliding down the other side until I hit the ground.

A lamp on my bedside table bathes the room in a dull golden glow, and my head leans back against the door.

“Where the hell are you, Aries?”