Storming into the house, my shoulders tense, my neck muscles ready to pop, I stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me. Ma and Pop stand in the middle of the living room, her arms around his waist and his hands cupping her jaw. He places a kiss to her forehead. Pulling back, he smiles down at her, his graying black hair tucked behind his ears.
“Love you, Mama,” he whispers. I’ve seen him look at her like that more than a thousand times, but never thought much of it. When they hooked up, he was a single dad raising his whore’s kid, and she was a fucking mess with a kid of her own and a whole lot of baggage. And he took her on, made her a home. He protected her, promised to protect what matters most to her, and has held up his promise. Even after nearly two decades together, they’re still in love. It’s so sweet, I think I might have to fucking puke.
Leaving the room unnoticed, I turn and head down the hall to Cub’s room, but before I can make it very far, I stop. Standing in the hallway, Cub has her arms folded over her chest and she’s giving me a soft and dreamy smile. Fuck. This can’t be good.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, walking toward her and taking the sharp detour into her room where I flop down on her bed and place my hands on my knees. She comes to stand before me, wiggling in between my legs. Lifting my chin, she cups my jaw. It’s so fucking similar to Ma and Pop and I don’t want any of it. She looks down at me with a look on her face that I hope to never see again. She’s not just smiling. She’s glowing or some shit.
“I see you,” she says softly.
“See what?” I ask, knowing damn well this is a conversation we shouldn’t be having. It’s too real, too fucking raw. She needs to stop.
“I see you even though you don’t want me to. The way you watch them—Jim and Ruby. You want what they have. I know you do.” I huff and go to stand up, but she pushes me back down on the bed with a strength I didn’t think possible. I knew this conversation was a bad fucking idea. Once again, my dick’s got me into one hell of a bad situation.
“Why are you fighting this?” she asks, practically begging for an answer.
“I ain’t fighting shit, Cub.”
“You call me Cub, and that means something. And no matter how much you want to tell me you don’t care, I know you do.” Tears spring to her eyes, and the grip on my jaw tightens. “I believe in us.”
“There is no us,” I say. Fighting off the gnawing panic in my gut, I steel my body like it can protect me from her words. Everything I’ve been fighting since I first saw her feels like acid in my veins, destroying every defense I have. “We’re just fucking around. Don’t read into it.”
The look on her face morphs from hopeful to gut-wrenching sorrow as she holds my jaw tighter. Her hands feel like a clammy vice around my mouth, making it hard to talk. Her scent, cool and airy, engulfs me. Just like it’s been for the past three days, there’s no escaping her. Only now is the first time I’ve wanted to. My chest constricts like I can’t suck in any oxygen.
“You’re a liar,” she says.
A long silence stretches out. Leaning down, she places a soft kiss to my cheek. “This is my respect.”
My mouth waters, my jaw tenses, and my hands ball into fists. I let my eyes close, trying so fucking hard to block everything out. But it’s impossible. She’s everywhere, consuming me. She raises up and places a kiss on my forehead and says, “And this is a promise of protection. I’ll protect your heart because I love you.”
The words rattle in my brain before they sink into my soul—what’s left of it anyway. The panic consumes me. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to fuck around, have fun, rebel a little. She wasn’t supposed to start spouting bullshit about loving and protecting me. She has no fucking clue what I’ve done in the name of the club, and she has no fucking clue who she’s promising to protect.
Without thinking, I push her off me and move to storm out of the room. Her finger catches mine as she slams into the wall behind her, wide-eyed and shocked. The tears trailing down her face are too fucking much to take. Crazy fucking woman. Walking out of the house and into the field, I let out a frustrated scream. Two of my brothers come running before they see what’s going on. I’m just losing my shit—again. It’s nothing to worry about. Really. It isn’t until Grady threatens to shoot me in my dick that I stop screaming and kicking at the ground.
When I think I have my wits about me, I make the walk back to the house. I need to have Duke sit with Alex in her room while I stand guard outside. I can’t look at her right now. This is all way too fucked up. Stepping onto the back deck, I spot Ma sitting on the porch swing near the front door. She gives a loud, overly dramatized sigh and pats the seat next to her. In her lap is the hand gun Pop gave her for Christmas one year. I go to pass her when I hear the cocking of her gun.
“Sit down, Punk,” she says. Turning around, I see her gun pointed at me.
“You won’t shoot me,” I say, shaking my head.
“Alex is in her room crying. Try me.”