Page 16

Rachel

I listened to the conversation but never entered the room.

My stomach churned at how easily Crash was willing to dismiss any feelings Mama would have. Lord knew there was no love lost between us, but Macbeth was her son, and she was obviously going to be upset at the thought of him dying.

I passed Mama in the hallway, and she looked broken. I couldn’t even find it in me to nettle her, and nettling Mama was one of my favourite past times. I had only been able to offer her a sad smile as she told me she was going to find Bee and asked if I wanted to join her.

I told her no, that I had already seen Bee, and she was as hyper as a sleep-deprived five-year-old was bound to be, but maybe a calming influence from Nanny would do the trick.

The truth is, I just wanted to be near Dante right now.

Alone.

And I sensed Mama needed to be alone, too.

I agreed Macbeth had to die. He was a danger for as long as he had freedom to come back and try for round two, but that didn't mean Mama wasn't allowed to be sad about it.

It also concerned me that Dante didn't fight it.

Club loyalty really did come first. The issue was, I wasn't so sure I wanted to be with a man who would always put me second to some stupid rulebook.

I was a firm believer that we made our own rules in this world.

We each had our own moral compass that would keep us in line with our own beliefs.

But I also believed that rules were made to be bended and broken if need be.

They were imaginary guidelines. But, maybe that was thinking with the heart and not the head.

Maybe sticking to the rules so strictly meant emotions couldn’t rule your life.

It still sucked, thinking that Dante would never really be mine. He belonged to the club, and he would follow them to the gates of hell to prove his loyalty, and I was something that could be discarded if I didn’t fall in line.

Crash had just proven that with one sentence.

I was ready to talk to Dante. To finally have an adult conversation about where we were headed, and to put the pettiness behind us.

But with that also came some home truths.

Dante had to understand that whilst I understood what the club meant to him, it wasn’t going to rule my life, or any relationship I had.

“Well,” I heard Doc say. “It ain't gonna look pretty, but you'll live.”

“Cheers, Doc.”

“That's what I'm here for. But in the future, can we stick to one man down a night? I'm getting too old for this shit,” he said, his voice getting closer. “In fact, here. Have this.”

“Where the fuck did you pull that from?” I heard Dante ask.

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

“You’re not a real doctor,” Crash laughed.

“Yeah, but I want to stay away. Eat the apple. I’m going.”

I mentally shook myself, and put my mask back in place, reverting back to the blankness that Dante hated so much.

“Gentlemen,” I said as I entered the room just as Doc came to the doorway. I'd die if they knew I was spying.

“There she is,” Crash smiled widely at me. He gestured for me to come closer, and as I moved towards him, he took long strides in my direction, and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for bringing him back to me.”

“Thank you for listening to me,” I said, raising my eyebrow at him when he pulled away.

“Rachel….” He sighed heavily. “It's not as easy as that.”

“It never is. At least I had Vienna.”

“Who I sent to you.”

“I would have liked to have a show of faith from the club leader. I'm not a stupid little girl, Crash. I know how these people think. They trust your judgement, and you dismissed me in front of all of them.”

“I know, Rachel. I appreciate you. I just—”

I just pursed my lips. I wasn't about to get into an argument with Dante's dad over something that didn't actually matter. “I know. Vienna explained. You’re still unsure over who you can trust.”

Dante was back where he belonged. That was the main thing.

“Can you please just trust me in the future? I’m a dickhead, but I’m not psychotic. I’ve no intention of placing a target on my back and pissing off a bunch of angry bikers.”

He smiled and nodded at me. “I'll leave you two be,” he said, closing the door behind him as he exited the room.

All the words that were on my lips died the instant we were alone. The silence that fell over us was deafening, and grew awkward in no time.

I looked at a spot on the carpet, not wanting to be the first one to show weakness and give in to the ever-growing tension.

The initial relief at him being safe had passed, and in its place was the memory of our last discussion - well, our last argument.

No doubt he was remembering how I was fooled by Macbeth.

How I believed him capable of allowing rapists and child molesters into his club.

Just as I was remembering how he threw in the towel and was ready to give up on us.

Whatever we were, he didn't want it anymore. He had told me to leave with my mother.

I would have to face difficult questions. Why had I believed Macbeth, for starters?

In hindsight, I’m not so sure whether I believed him, or I was using him as my scapegoat to get the fuck out of here.

I was still kidding myself that I was being held here against my will.

Dante had been right when he said I was playing the martyr.

We had come a long way since I ran away to my mothers.

If I wanted to leave, all I would have needed to do was to say.

But I didn’t believe that at the time. I truly thought someone else’s house would be burnt to the ground, or worse. It’s not as if I had evidence on my side to help me trust in Dante’s words. It was his actions that led me to believe I wouldn’t be free to leave.

“Are you okay?” He asked, making me jump slightly as his loud voice filled the room.

“Peachy,” I murmured back, biting the inside of my cheek.

“Good. ”

“And you?”

“I've had worse nights.”

“Good,” I said, and once again we fell back into silence. The tension was so thick, I could almost taste it. I just didn't know what we were supposed to do, or where we could go from here.

“Do—”

“I—” we both spoke at the same time.

“Go ahead,” he offered.

“No, go on. I don't know what I was going to say, anyway.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to sit down.”

“Oh. No. I'm good. Thanks.”

Jesus fucking Christ, this was painful.

“Bee is okay,” I said, latching on to the one topic we never disagreed on. “She's running rings around my mother.”

“Your mother is still here?” He asked in surprise. I mentally cringed as I realised I had made the opening move to discussing the argument.

“Yeah. We didn't have time to leave before the alarm was raised. We thought it best she stay here for her own protection.”

“But you were planning on leaving?”

“That's what you told me to do.”

“But is it what you were planning?”

“Of course,” I said, throwing my head back and finally looking at him. “It's what I've always wanted. You know I've never wanted to be here.”

“Still?”

“What could possibly have changed my mind?”

“How about the fact that we were getting along before that last argument? We found common ground, and we were working on our relationship?”

“Were we? Or were we both pretending to be things we weren’t? Things we thought the other person wanted us to be?”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

I raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I just know I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

“When have I ever asked you to pretend? The fact of the matter is, I kidnapped you without knowing a thing about you. I was prepared to accept whatever version of yourself you gave to me.”

“No. You were prepared to accept the version of me you assumed I was. ”

“I’m not having this argument. If that’s not good enough, how about the fact that you were wrong about Macbeth?”

“Macbeth was an excuse. A scapegoat. We both know it. I'd have latched on to anything if it meant my escape.”

“You still think you need to escape?” he asked, a flash of hurt in his eyes.

“You'll let me go willingly?”

“If that's what you want, Rachel. I'm bored with playing the big, bad guard. If you don't want to be here, you can leave. It's as simple as that.”

Shit.

This was all falling apart quicker than I could handle.

I didn't want to leave.

Did I?

I didn't know what I wanted, but Dante was making it clear he wasn't fighting for me anymore.He had to pull me along every step of the way, and I guess he was sick of having someone so unwilling around him. The only time I willingly went along was when we were fucking. Seems like that wasn’t enough for him.

I don't know why that filled me with so much hurt.

He always said he didn’t want to lie to me, or pretend to be something he wasn’t.

Which is why he had always shown me the worst version of himself.

But I had never lied to him either. Once we were past the initial stage where I retreated behind my blankness, I never lied to him either.

I showed him what I was really like, and I was honest that I didn’t want to be here.

I guess honesty was a one-way street. And it also meant that my question had been answered.

Head vs heart.

My head was confused. My heart was hurting.

But emotions shouldn’t be ruling. Crash was right.

“So, what do I do? Can I leave during lockdown?”

“You can leave whenever you're ready. If you want to go now, I'll see if Vienna or Hacksaw can drive you. I'd recommend staying at a hotel for a few nights.”

“Okay. I'll go get my things together. I'd like to leave tonight. There's no point putting off the inevitable.”

My pride wouldn't let me back down. If he was letting me go, I was going. There was no way I was going to let myself be vulnerable and tell him I wanted to stay.

I had been rejected by so many people in my life, I genuinely couldn’t stand it if he rejected me too.

Dante would never fucking reject you, and you know it!

“Okay.”

I nodded and turned away from him, too late to pay heed to the inner voice screaming at me to listen to reason.

My hand had barely pulled the door open an inch before it was slammed shut, and two large hands were spinning me around, and Dante's huge body was pinning me against the wood.

“You stupid, stubborn bitch,” he hissed at me, his eyes wild with anger. His huge hand came up to my face, his fingers digging into my jaw as he pushed my head back and forced me to look at him.

My body came to life.

An angry, feral Dante I could deal with.