Beast: Learning to Breathe (Devil's Blaze MC #5)

Looking around the house, I notice the wood container by the fireplace is full. Beside the container sits a plastic bag, and I open it up to discover there are two new lighters along with five of those large fire logs. The nifty ones you buy and light the package on both ends that burn for hours and make starting a fire so simple.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where all of this came from. That feeling of freedom inside of me blooms a little more. But what really pushes me over the edge to where I think I might even like my neighbor is when I open the fridge.

Inside, there are assorted groceries. Milk, lunch meat, eggs, hamburger, chicken, and even orange juice—it’s all inside. The fridge was almost bare before I became sick. There was nothing in it but yogurt, an almost empty jar of pickles, and some butter. I don’t even see that in here now. There are brand new containers of those things, but the old ones are gone. I close the fridge with my heart hammering against my chest. Then I look around the rest of my kitchen. There’s a brand new loaf of bread, a box of cereal on the counter, and some apples, bananas, and oranges are strewn across my kitchen table.

Michael bought groceries and not only a few items, but a lot. I lean against the counter, and I feel tears slide from my eyes again. The windows left me crying and speechless, but this… this seems larger, because Michael had to do it hands on. It wasn’t a matter of buying something and having it installed. It was…shopping. It was almost like…caring. I don’t know how to process all of this. I’ll never be able to repay him, and I know in my heart that if I try, he’ll just turn mean again. Call me crazy, but that’s not something I want to experience again. So, I just stand here, leaning against my old laminate, fake, butcher block counter, and I let the tears go.

Connor Michael Jameson, my hateful, taciturn, grunting neighbor, made me cry…again.

But this time, the tears are good—definitely good. These tears wash over me, in a cleansing way. For the first time in my life, I experience true tears of…joy.





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Beast





Hayden has been back home for two weeks. She’s not tried talking my ear off—which is good, because after the ride home, I got the distinct impression that she could. She’s actually not bothered me at all, except for one small thing. She keeps leaving different things for me outside the door that leads to my loft. Over the past two weeks, every morning when I open the door there’s either been pies, cakes, cookies, or candy. Every single morning like clockwork. Well, every morning except this one. Today, there is nothing here. Maybe she’s given up. That’s for the best. I ignore the disappointed feeling that is resting heavy in my gut. I had gotten used to the treats, but that’s all.

I’m about to get on my bike when I notice the garage door she keeps that rolling wreck parked in, is open. Almost against my will, I walk over there. She’s not in the garage but I hear her back door open. I turn as she walks towards me.

“Hi, Michael,” she says, her voice full of stress. “Did you need something?” she asks, wringing her hands together. I stand there annoyed and a little uncomfortable.

“There was no cookies,” I tell her. I watch as her lips form a perfect ‘o’, then slowly spread into a brief smile.

“I’m sorry. I overslept. I had plans to make you something special today. I was going to do it when I came back home. But since you’re here, you just saved me some steps,” she says in rapid fire. She takes a minute to get a breath, which I figure might be a good thing, but then she starts in again. “Actually, I was just about to come ask you a question. I’m running late. I can’t get my car to start, and I’m supposed to go to the doctor today. I can’t miss it. Today is ultrasound day. I can’t believe my luck lately,” she complains, and she says all of that without stopping. I let the words register for a minute and I frown. She wants me to take her to the doctor? Fuck, no. No way. Not happening. I open my mouth to tell her that when she carries on some more. “Can I borrow your cellphone?” That wasn’t the question I expected from her.

“What?”

“Your cellphone? I want to call Pastor Sturgill to see if he can take me into town. He said anytime I needed him to call, and I’ve always tried not to unless we were dealing with the baked goods, since his church uses those in their fundraising. But, I don’t have any other choice right now. If you could let me borrow it to call him, I’d appreciate it.”

I bring my hand up to my face scratching my beard, touching the scars underneath. I should give her the phone and walk away. I’ve done too much where Hayden is concerned, especially since I’m starting to enjoy seeing signs of her. That’s not smart. An old friend’s wife, Dani, is the only person I’ve put myself out there for in forever, and that’s only because she had a world of pain in her eyes when I first met her. It was a pain I knew—a pain I was familiar with. But, I’m not part of this world anymore. I’m existing in it as some type of cruel joke, but I definitely don’t have a place in it. I wanted to. For a while, I let myself believe my brothers were right. That eventually, I would have a home with them again, and I believed that maybe my life would return to normal.

Instead, I watched as if I were on the outside looking in. Everyone went on with their lives. Everyone continued living and laughing. They had children, they had husbands and wives, they had life. I went through the motions, waiting for that moment when I’d have that again. That moment when the darkness would leave, the pain would stop suffocating me, and the emptiness would stop devouring me. Then maybe, I could breathe the same air as them. It never happened. That moment never came. It’s never going to happen—I know that. Still, instead of doing the sensible thing and handing her the phone, I do something incredibly stupid.

“I’ll take you,” I offer before my brain can even register the words.

“I wouldn’t ask, but I haven’t put minutes back on my phone yet, and I…What did you say?”

“I said I’ll take you.”

Her lips move, opening just slightly. I can see a breath move through her chest. Her gray eyes widen, and I’m instantly regretting my offer. I’m about to just hand her my phone and be done with it, when she does something unexpectedly.

“Thank you, Michael. I’d really appreciate that,” she says, calmly.

That’s it. No squealing, no hugging me, no acting like I’m doing something fantastic. Nothing, just a simple, calm, thank you. I was preparing for her to go crazy, hug me and kiss the side of my face while gushing out her gratefulness. But she only gives me a quiet thank you.

Which means…I don’t back out. I don’t hand her my phone. I don’t tell her I’ve changed my mind. I go back to my place, get my truck, and I do all of it while wishing she would have at least tried to kiss me.

Fucking hell.





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Hayden