Burn (Bayonet Scars #5)

Having Mindy walk through my space, as fucked-up as she is right now, makes me feel like maybe I should have done something to make the cabin feel like a home. I don’t fucking know, but the place hasn’t been updated and barely any furniture has been changed out since Sylvia, Pop’s mom, decorated the place back when Ryan was born.

“Bed,” I say and point at my full-sized bed. It’s messy as fuck, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I changed the sheets. Couple years back, when Fish hooked up with his chick, Mary, the first thing he said about it was that he always had clean sheets. Sure, he had a woman to bust his balls, but he also had someone making him dinner and keeping his clean bed warm. We laughed at him, fucked with him over giving a fuck about something like clean sheets, and still won’t let him live it down. But the truth is, as I watch Mindy sit herself on the edge of my bed, I’m dying to know if she does laundry—and if she does, I might commit a few felonies to keep her around.

In the bathroom, I grab the supplies I need and toss them on the bed next to her. She’s silent as I gently take her arm and clean her up, but she watches my every move.

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me,” she says.

“Don’t have to. I choose to.”

“I’ll pay for the mirror.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Some of her cuts are a little deeper than others, but thankfully there’s very little glass in her skin from what I’ve seen so far, and the pieces have been large. The cuts that need it get super glue on them, and the others are either left open after they’re cleaned or they’re bandaged up. Once all the blood is cleared away, it doesn’t look nearly as bad as it did before.

“Did you mean what you said before?” Her lower lip trembles as she says it, but she sounds determined.

“I always mean what I say—I just don’t always mean to say it.”

“You said I can’t want you. You said I don’t know what I’m asking for.”

“I did.” Fuck. She’s going there. I wish she wouldn’t, but I guess she wouldn’t be Mindy if she didn’t. This girl fucking guts me, and she doesn’t even know it.

“You only know one side of me. I couldn’t have you and then lose you.” I finish up her other arm and place a hand on her knee.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she says. Her full lips form a pout, and she stares at me with a tired expression.

My thumb rubs small circles on her knee, comforting us both. She lets out a soft sigh and blows out a breath. With both hands, I cup her face and pull her close to me.

“I want things for you—a good man with a safe job, a couple of kids, and a nice house. I want you to be secure, and taken care of, and for all this sick shit to be a distant memory. You can’t want me, because I don’t want someone like me for you.” It’s the realest thing I’ve ever said, and that scares the shit out of me. I’m not afraid of my feelings, but I’m not usually into sharing them with anyone. With Mindy, though, I want to do more than to share with her. I want to be everything for her. I want her to want me because of who I am and not what I represent.

But no matter how desperate I am to have her, I need her safe and free of my shit even more. I love her too much to not be selfish with her. Seeing her dreams come true, even with another man, is what I need for her. I’ll always watch over her, making sure she gets what she needs and deserves. I just won’t be the man giving it to her.

She leans in and drags her nose along mine. Tears pool in her eyes and fall down her cheeks when she scrunches them closed.

“Is that what you want?” she asks. “I mean, the kids and house part?”

“Why? You offering?” I try to tease her, but when she opens her eyes, there’s an emptiness there that fucks me up, so I go about answering her honestly. “It’s expected that brothers will take an old lady eventually. Most of them end up with kids, but it was never my thing.” I hate admitting that to her. For some reason, I wish I could tell her that I want the whole normal family bullshit. There’s this look in her eyes that I can’t exactly make out. It’s too sad to be sure, but she’s definitely not saying something that she clearly wants to say. And it’s too difficult to stay here, holding on to her and knowing that I’m not enough.

Ryan changed when he met Alex, so maybe that’s what happens when you find the person that just fits you. If I allowed Mindy in the way I wish I could, I’d do the whole house and kids bullshit. I’d probably fucking love it, if I’m being honest with myself. Ma and I were lost as fuck back before Pop sucked her in, but when he did, we became a family. I liked being part of a family as much as I like being part of the club, more even. But I see the path she’s going down, and I don’t want to be the thing that destroys her. I don’t know how I’m going to keep her close and get her to understand why we can’t ever happen, but I have to try.