Saving Dancer (Savage Brothers MC #2)

“Bull!” Carrie gasps.

“Red, hush. I’m going to doctor your leg and then you can rest.”

“But…”

“Stop arguing. I’m doing it.”

She looks over Bull’s shoulder, her eyes connect with mine. There’s so much sadness in her eyes. It shames me. This time, I’m the one who has to look away.

“Dragon wants you at the club. I suggest you don’t keep him waiting,” Bull calls out.

Well fuck a duck.





Chapter 8




Dancer


I know I should have gone back to the club and answered Dragon’s page. That would have been the smart thing to do. These days it seems, I don’t do smart. Hell, if you looked back on my life, maybe I never have.

The truth is, I’m reeling. Reeling from the fact that a man I truly like and respect has feelings for Carrie. Fuck, I’m not an expert, but I think it could easily be said that he is in love with her. I don’t know how to react to that. I’ve always labeled Carrie off limits because she was fifteen years younger than me. Damn, Bull is older than I am, not by much, but still.

It is enough to fuck me up even more. I am already dealing with the taste of Carrie, the feeling of her in my arms, the eager way she ground against me, silently begging for more. I have wanted Carrie for years, dreamed of her, and wished I could have just one taste of her. The reality of it was more than I imagined.

It has only been an hour, but I already want to charge back and claim her, just from that one taste. I can’t. The minute she touched me, those damn memories came back. Her sweet voice demanding I take her wasn’t what I heard. It had been replaced by a darker voice.

My hand shakes as I bring the bottle up to my mouth. Fuck. I can’t stand to be touched. I can’t. I don’t allow the whores I’ve been fucking to touch me. I make sure their hands are busy with a friend or I take them from behind. I don’t want their hands anywhere on me. I got nervous when Carrie touched my head, but I managed to drown out the memories with her taste, but fuck, she grabbed me. She said words that were burned into my brain. I lost it. I never meant to hurt her and I know she thinks I did. I didn’t. Hell, as much as I want her I’m not sure I can ever allow myself to actually have her. I’m so tired of living like this.

If I hear one more time about how what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, I may scream. People who say that shit have never been so deep into a hole that they can’t find a way out. They’ve never sat by the window and prayed that the sun would hurry and go down because the night seemed safer. People didn’t move around so much in the nighttime, things weren’t done. The world was at rest. At night the fear that clenched around my heart and held on, eased up—never a lot, but enough so I could pretend to be normal on the outside.

You don’t go through shit and get stronger. That is a lie. You go through shit and lose parts of yourself. Whole fucking pieces, which leave holes so big, so mind-blowingly huge that for people to even say you’ll be stronger? It is complete and utter bullshit.

So that’s where I find myself tonight. Sitting in my car, perched on the edge of a dam. Letting the darkness surround me, letting it cover me and the only friend I have in the world. I look at the empty bottle in my hand. Well scratch that, just me. Seems I’ve drank the last of my friend.

If I were stronger, I would have driven off the edge of this concrete monster and sunk to the bottom of Laurel Lake. This is not the first time I’ve been here. It’s not the first time I’ve thought of ending it all, it’s more like the millionth time. This is something that I have faced every day since I stepped out of the doors of the Federal Prison in West Liberty.

It’s not something that ever leaves my brain. It’s always here. I’ll be driving down the road on my bike enjoying the feel of the cool air on my body when bam, a memory hits. A memory so dark it chokes me. Another vehicle, or even better a coal truck will go by and my hand shakes with the need to cut in front of it.

It would be deemed an accident. Everyone would write it off as if there was a vehicle malfunction or if I had fallen asleep…no one would know I was just another coward too tired to keep moving, too worn out to keep fighting against the current.