Soulless (Lawless #2)(9)

On some of those nights when my dad was out late, my mother would come and drag me from my bed and into hers. We’d cuddle up and watch cheesy romantic comedies.

It was those movies, and not my parents’ cold/colder relationship, that gave me my first glimpse into what love was. I got so upset when the couple faced an obstacle that could prevent them from being together. I lived for the big romantic gesture at the end. The one that would finally bring them together forever.

Every single time when the movie ended and the credits rolled, my mother would sigh and brush my hair off my forehead. “You know that none of that is real, right? Movies are make-believe. That kind of love doesn’t exist.”

Unrealistic is what she’d call it.

Except, that was another lie, even if she didn’t know it at the time.

Because that kind of love did exist.

What I felt for Bear had simmered under the surface since I was ten years old, and when we met again, albeit under shitty circumstances, it had exploded into something more powerful than any cheesy romance could ever depict.

With one major difference.

Our story didn’t have a happy ending.

There was no chasing after me on horseback or confessing our feelings to one another in front of a crowd of teary-eyed people.

No, our story ended with Bear in jail, hell-bent on taking the rap for the murders of my parents, which my mother was ultimately responsible for.

When Bear’s lawyer, Bethany Fletcher, explained that Bear had signed a confession to spare me from facing the same threat from his former brothers, one that he himself now faced within the walls of the county jail, I didn’t want to believe it.

He threw himself onto the fire for me.

King is taking you home.

Stay there. Wait.

Trust me.

Bethany passed me a note in Bear’s handwriting minutes after he’d been arrested while I was still looking down the road as if he’d be back at any moment. I held on to it with shaky hands and turned it over and over wondering where the rest of it was.

“I don’t understand,” I said to Bethany through my teary eyes.

“Do what he says,” she’d said, you don’t need to understand. You just need to listen.

“Why did he do this?” I asked.

Bethany cocked an eyebrow at me like I should already know the answer. “The reason why any man does anything foolish and ridiculous. For love, of course.”

“It’s not safe for him there. We need to get him out!”

“Thia,” Ray said, coming to stand beside me. “Don’t you see? They were going to arrest you. Bear’s at least got a fighting chance where you wouldn’t. He grew up in the club. He knows how to handle himself. He knows what he’s doing. Bethany’s right. As hard as it is, you have to trust him, and in the meantime she’s going to do everything she can to get him home. We all will.”

King came to stand beside Ray and placed his hand on her shoulder.

I shook my head. “It should be me. He didn’t do anything. I did!” I turned to Bethany. “I’m the one who shot my mother. I’m the one who killed her. It should be me! Please, we can’t let him—”

Bethany clucked her tongue and waved her index finger back and forth. “That’s not what happened, my dear. Bear crashed his bike into their grove. He went up to the house to use their phone since his had no service. When he got up to the house, your mother was standing outside ranting about killing your father, waving a shot gun around. Bear grabbed a pistol from the porch and shot her with it in self defense before fleeing.”

“That’s not what happened,” I said flatly.

“According to his confession that’s exactly what happened,” King said. “You need to trust him.”

Trust?

Trust is a funny thing. Especially when both my patience and my sanity had already reached their limit, and the man I love had been arrested for something I did, leaving me with an empty heart and an infuriating note, ordering me to go back to the place I hated most in the world. I trusted him and I knew in my heart he was doing what was best for me.

What I didn’t trust was that he wasn’t going to get himself killed in the process.

“Get some rest. I’m taking you back in the morning,” King said, and that was that.

I didn’t even try to sleep right away, knowing full well it would be impossible when I would probably still be able to smell Bear on the sheets. Instead, I sat in the same little rowboat where Bear confessed his feelings for me, except this time, I left it tied to the seawall, not having the strength to fight the current.

I took a swig of the half empty bottle of Jack I’d found in the garage apartment and looked out over the water of the bay. The amber liquid burned my mouth and throat, bypassing my newly broken heart and igniting a fire in my stomach.

With each swig, I swore I could still taste Bear’s lips on the bottle.

It was late. The air was stagnant. The humidity so high that little drops of water beaded up on my arms and dripped into the creases of my elbows.

Everything happened so fast, yet it was like no time passed at all.

How was that even possible?

How long had I even known Bear before he decided to sacrifice himself for me?

Days? Weeks? Months?

Time blended together until it slowed to a stop and I watched in horror as Bear was dragged away.