Page 30 of The Biker’s Second Chance (Chrome Creed MC #2)

A MOMENT OF PEACE

SPIKE

M y body is humming with emotion right now but the strongest one is the desire to just give up.

I don't want this.

I didn't want Zero to die.

I don't want this responsibility.

"It's okay, Spike. We'll get through this." Jayne whispers as she swipes a soft hand down my face. It honestly feels like her fingertips are myy only life line.

I look into her eyes, waiting for the hurtful words I've just said to her to finally grab hold and for her to walk away but she doesn't move. She stays right there in front of me.

I stay strong for as long as I can but like a levee holding back the water from a stage five tornado, I crack.

"Oh god, Jaynie." I groan and let my head fall to her shoulder.

She wraps her dainty yet strong arms around me and all the strength I had just moments ago disappears.

I can't even keep my legs under me. It feels like the entire world is crumbling around me. All of my weight transfers to her. Both my physical weight and the weight of what has happened today.

She doesn't buckle, doesn't let me go.

She doesn’t buckle, doesn’t let me go.

Her fingers comb through my hair, gentle, steady, her voice low and soft in my ear. “It’s okay, baby. Let it out. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

The words cut me open. I don’t even realize I’m crying until the tears hit her skin.

Hot, shameful tears I’ve been choking back since I felt Zero’s last breath shudder out of him.

My chest heaves against hers, the sobs ripping up through me like broken glass.

I’m a grown man, a biker, a Vice President of this club, and here I am fucking breaking in her arms like a kid.

“I’m sorry,” I choke, over and over again, the words spilling out in a loop. “I’m so fucking sorry, Jaynie. For what I said. For all of it. I didn’t mean it. I swear to Christ I didn’t mean it.”

She presses her lips to the top of my head, whispering against my hair, “I know. I know you didn’t.”

And it’s that, her knowing, her not holding it against me, that destroys me even more.

I drag my head up, meet her eyes through the blur of my tears. There’s no judgment there. No disgust. Just love. Pure and fucking terrifying. The kind of love I don’t deserve but can’t live without.

I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs trembling as I trace her skin. “I can’t lose you too,” I rasp. My voice sounds foreign to me, gutted and raw. “If I lose you, I’m done. You hear me? Done.”

She shakes her head, presses her forehead to mine. “You’re not gonna lose me. I’m right here. Always.”

The promise sinks into me, burning like fire, and before I know it my mouth is on hers. The kiss is desperate, messy, soaked in grief and need. I pour every ounce of pain, every ounce of regret, into it, and she takes it, gives it right back, until I can’t breathe without her.

Clothes come off fast, frantic, tossed to the floor like they mean nothing. And they don’t. Not compared to this. Not compared to having her skin against mine, her warmth surrounding me.

When I sink into her, it’s not like the other times. It’s not about lust or survival. It’s slow. It’s deep. It’s a kind of love that terrifies me, because it feels too good, too right, like maybe this is the only place I’ll ever belong again.

Her hands are on my face, in my hair, gripping my shoulders like she’s trying to hold me together while I fall apart inside her. Her voice, soft and broken, spills against my ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

The words anchor me, even as I thrust into her, every movement heavy with everything I can’t say. My tears fall onto her cheeks, mixing with her own, and still she doesn’t look away. She takes it all. Every dark, jagged part of me.

When I come, it’s with her name on my lips, a prayer and a curse all at once. My whole body shakes, but she doesn’t let go, doesn’t loosen her grip, not even after it’s over.

I collapse against her, chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers. And in the silence that follows, the truth hits me hard.

She was never wrong.

Not about wanting more. Not about fighting for something bigger than ourselves. I see it now, clear as day. If we don’t fight for something, we end up fighting for nothing. And Zero… Zero didn’t die for nothing.

I won’t let him.

I bury my face against Jayne’s neck, whisper the words more to myself than to her. “He won’t have died in vain. I swear it. I’ll end Xavier. I’ll end all of them.”

Her arms tighten around me, and for the first time since we left Zero bleeding in that ditch, I feel a spark of resolve burn through the ashes of my guilt.

I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna get the club to trust me again. I don’t know how to prove I’m fit to lead after this.

But I know one thing.

I’m not fucking giving up.

Not on Zero. Not on my club. Not on her.

Never again.