Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(90)
“Are you going to let me love you?” she whispered.
He swallowed hard. He couldn’t speak; if he tried, he would just end up sobbing, so he nodded instead and Ellie’s beautiful face, her eyes, her mouth, smiled at him in return.
? ? ?
Lying atop Dirty, Ellie traced the lines of his face. He looked so different when he was sleeping. Peaceful, not tormented. She would give anything to see him look that way while awake. Anything.
He was like a child in so many ways. Everything was new to him and so she’d gone out on a limb, hoping and praying it wouldn’t backfire, and took control much in the way a parent would an out-of-control child. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but while she was trying to save Dirty from himself, by taking control, she’d inadvertently taken back a little piece of what she’d lost at the hands of Daniel.
Kissing his lips softly, so as not to wake him, Ellie climbed off the couch and bent down to retrieve her clothes. As she dressed, she surveyed the apartment, full of her boxes waiting to be unpacked, and shook her head.
This wasn’t at all how she’d thought her life would go.
Not even close.
But she wouldn’t change a thing.
Not one damn thing.
She’d fallen so deep into his world, into him, that when he was hurting she felt that, deeply. She wasn’t even sure anymore where she began and he ended and to be honest, she didn’t want it any other way.
Dressed, she ventured into the bedroom to retrieve her phone from her purse and dialed her voice mail.
The first two were from work and the third…
Ellie, it’s Dad. Mom’s been taken to the hospital. Honey…it’s not good. You need to get here as soon as possible.
Grabbing her purse, Ellie rushed from the bedroom.
“Michael!” she cried and he shot up from the couch, his eyes wild.
“What?” he yelled.
She shook her head frantically. “My mom,” she said, her eyes filling. “She’s…I’ve got to go. She’s at the hospital.”
Dirty was up on his feet and zipping up his pants as he crossed the room. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the door.
“Shoes,” he said, pointing to her flats as he snatched his keys off the end table.
Ellie hurried into her flats and then Dirty yanked her out of the apartment and into the hallway.
They climbed on his bike together, Ellie wrapped her body tightly around his, and then they shot off down the street.
? ? ?
Later, much later, after her mother had passed away, after she’d spent months grieving her loss, after she and Dirty had bought a house up in the mountains together, and after he’d surprised her with her very own motorcycle, a bike he’d built from the ground up, specifically for her, and after he’d finally felt comfortable enough to tell her he loved her…
Ellie would think back on that moment and remember that Dirty hadn’t so much as flinched when she’d touched him.
In fact, he’d never shied away from her touch again.
Not once, from that day forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
As he exited the hospital elevator, Cage paused to lean up against the cool wall. He felt like a steaming pile of dog shit that hadn’t just been shit out and left behind to rot away, but had been lapped up by the same dog that had shit him out and then regurgitated. A few times over.
He hadn’t slept in days, he couldn’t eat without it coming right back up, he couldn’t even stay hard long enough to f*ck his woman, and he was jonesing for a high something fierce. His heart was racing, his skin clammy, his body sluggish, he felt cold when he was sweating and crazy when he should feel happy. He needed something. Some blow, some pills, f*cking anything at all. But he’d promised Tegen no more drugs and, to be perfectly honest, he hadn’t thought quitting the shit was going to be a problem until he’d sobered up and immediately wanted to be f*cked-up again.
He’d tried hitting the bottle to take the edge off and all that did was get his ass kicked by Tegen. Not because he was drinking but because drinking had done nothing but worsen the cravings for something more. As well as cause him to think something more would be a really great idea, so he’d relapsed. Twice.
Which in turn caused Tegen to take his keys away, smash his cell phone to bits, and slap him in the face a few times.
It was f*cking official. He was a goddamn junkie.
So yeah, it was a problem.
And because of all that bullshit, because he couldn’t trust his temper, he’d been putting off an important conversation that needed to be had.
With his motherf*cking old man.
His old man who’d not only f*cked with Cage’s life, but had almost ended his own life because he was a stubborn old bastard with a bad temper who was so busy worrying about everyone else he hadn’t been taking care of himself.
“Cage?”
Cage lifted his head just enough to see Tegen standing beside him, her green eyes filled with concern. “Are you going to puke again?”
Yes. Yes, he was.
He tried to glare at her. “No,” he bit out. “And stop treatin’ me like a little f*ckin’ girl.”
“Stop acting like one,” she snapped.
“You treat all sick people like f*ckin’ shit?” he muttered. “Or just me?”