Page 3

Becky

I smile again as I come out of the bathroom, thinking about the ‘performance’ Grease couldn’t complete. A chuckle breaks through my lips at the antics that man can get himself into. What really makes me smile is that he goes with the flow of it all. Yes, he is a big badass biker, and I know from eyewitness accounts he is a very dangerous man… but then there's this side of him. This side of that infuriating man that I love.

Well, love might be a bit much. It's more of a fine line between love and hate between the two of us. I love to give him a hard time, and he gives it right back. I wipe the smile off my face as I return to the common room. As far as anyone knows, Grease and I loathe each other and can barely tolerate being in the same room. I can't have them seeing the amusement he brings me as well.

As for the real reason we can't be in the same room, well, my side of it is chemistry. I fall more head over heels in love with him the longer I’m with him. It doesn't help he is the sexiest fucking man alive, and all I want to do is explore all those piercings and tattoos that are speculated around the clubhouse. So this might sound like one of the other love stories I’ve heard coming out of this place. The issue? Yeah, Hi, that's me. I’m the issue.

My past is still chasing me with the fire of thirty death hounds nipping at my heels. I’m marked for death, and these people have saved me for the past two years, and they don't even know it. They gave me a chance and shelter when I needed it most. The last thing I want to do is form too much of a connection and get them involved in any of my shit. I’ve held myself away from these people as much as I can. I should have left over a year ago. Hell, I shouldn't have stayed longer than six months, but they made me feel special and safe. I needed to feel safe. But trying a relationship, even just a sexual one, is out of the question. It's too close to home. I know without a doubt if I were to go there, if I had a taste of that life, I wouldn't survive leaving it. I might as well let the past catch up.

“He rushed out of here so fast he forgot his phone,” Piper chuckles, grabbing it from the table. She spots me coming back into the room and smiles.

“Becky! Hey love! We were just talking about taking all the kids back to the house and getting a nap after all the excitement of the party. Why don't you take the rest of the day off?” she offers, smiling so warmly it causes a pain in my chest.

“If you're sure?” Truth is, I hate my days off. They are spent alone in my tiny apartment or at the bookstore in town. Every day except on Saturdays. I teach a class at the gym in the next county over Saturday mornings, but no one here knows that. I’d rather be here with the amazing kids I’ve come to love so much.

“Yeah, of course! Do you mind taking Grease's phone on your way out? He should be in the garage.” She hands me the phone before pulling me into a hug and whispering: “You could give it a chance, you know. We already see you as part of the club family. An old lady cut would just make it official.”

I give her a tight smile as I pull away. She just doesn't understand how badly I want that, too. Unfortunately, it's just out of reach, and that's assuming Grease would even want me in that way. Don't get me wrong, I know the man is attracted to me; he doesn't try very hard to hide it. Still, he pushes me away as much as I do him. Our relationship, if you can call it that, is… confusing to everyone, including us.

I sigh as I turn and make my way to the garage. I smile as I inhale the scent of grease and oil. It reminds me so much of him. The smile falls from my face the next instant as I walk through the bay doors.

The noise is loud. A big bang that seems to bounce off the walls as soon as I walk through the door. Because of the quiet and private life I’ve lived, I haven't had a panic attack in the last couple of years, but this one noise… This loud bang brings the past all back.

“Lyra, I told you it wasn't smart to report it. You know who his father is, right?” my best friend and fellow teacher, Cara, says, helping me throw clothes into a bag as fast as possible.

“I knew he was the kingpin, but Cara, I couldn't stand by when he was coming in with more bruises, more black eyes, more broken bones.” I seethe at the turn my life has taken in the past three days.

“I get that, and I don't blame you, I just. I can't believe this is happening. It's like an old movie, fake and unrealistic. What am I supposed to tell people when they ask where you went? Oh, she's just running from the mob?”

“You tell them nothing. From this point on, you barely knew me. Never bring up my name again. Just… stay safe.” With those parting words, I grab the backpack, squeeze her as tightly as possible into a hug, and rush out of the house. As I reach my car, I look back at her. “Leave the house as quickly as you can. Don't ever come back. I won't be. If you can, just please…” I pause at the first falter in my voice at the biggest favor I'm about to ask for.

“I’ll watch over your Mama, Lyra. I promise nothing will happen to her on my watch.”

At her words, I nod, sucking back the tears in my eyes, and fall into the driver's seat of my car. I back out of my driveway and head out of town, not knowing where I'm going, just knowing I can no longer stay here if I want to live. I don't regret it, though.

Yes, I knew the leader of the Irish Mafia in the area was the father abusing my third-grade student. Did that stop me from turning him in? Reporting him over and over? Even as the threats rolled in? Hell no. I couldn't sit by and watch that scared little boy flinch at another sound. It killed something inside me every time.

I shake off those feelings now. After the attack in my office barely two hours ago, an attack I barely escaped, I knew my time was up. They had come to silence me for good. I was going to die.

I know I have to leave, and I wipe the tears off my cheek as I see the Exiting Mississippi sign. As I pass it, though, I hear a screech of tires before loud banging. I’m being freaking shot at. What the hell? How will I escape this time?

“Fuck! Becky? Answer me, Dammit!” I hear as I feel a soft tap on my cheek.

“Please, come back. Please come back to me.” The tortured voice is so familiar, so devastated. I want to reach out and touch him to reassure him, but the darkness is hard to shake. It's clawing at my throat, wanting to pull me back to that time.

“Fuck this! I’m taking you to Grim. I don't care if he knocks you the fuck out. Anything is better than watching you in this pain. Fuck! Becky! Tootsie, please.” I crinkle my brows.

Tootsie? Why is that so familiar? There's a niggle in my brain. Tootsie? Toots? That's it, Toots! Only one person calls me Toots, but they’ve never spoken the word Tootsie before. Never with the soft caress, the almost loving touch of those words on his lips. And right now, he sounds just that… loving.

That snaps me out of the darkness. I gasp, taking a deep breath as I look at my surroundings. I hadn't even realized Grease had picked me up, but now we are marching fast down the halls toward Grim’s medical room.

“Wait, wait, wait. Put me down, Grease,” I say sternly, pushing on his chest and kicking my legs. I absolutely refuse to acknowledge the hard chest just underneath my palms.

“Put you down? Are you crazy? You were almost catatonic! You're getting checked out,” he declares.

“Put. Me. Down,” I state in the strongest voice I can muster. I know he is struggling with giving me what he wants to take care of me, but also not wanting to force me. Finally, my consent wins out. He clenches his jaw, but slowly lowers me to the ground.

“Thank you so much for your concern, but I just need some rest. I was given the rest of the day off, and frankly, I want to go home and sleep,” I tell him, not meeting his eye.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I don't give him a chance to respond. I walk away quickly and make my exit.

Yeah, don't stay in one place too long, don't make any personal connections… don't fall in love. I’ve failed on every account. I just hope it doesn't cost me my life.