Loving Me, Trusting You(57)

“Tell me first,” she says as I move my mouth to her neck and start kissing my way down her shoulder. I pause and the image of Crystal's bruised body floods back into my mind. Shit. Well, at least I remember the girl's name. Somehow, that makes things a little better.

I sigh and move back, just a bit, keeping Mireya's hands on my stomach. This isn't going to be good.

“You have to promise that you'll spend the night with me,” I tell her, swallowing back fear and trepidation. I didn't want things to go this way, but they have and I'm going to deal with it as best I can. I hope everything will work out, that I can pull off some miracle and make it back to her alive, but if I don't, it's okay. As long as I remove those f*ckers from her life forever, I'll be happy.

“Are you f*cking serious?” she asks, getting pissy and trying to push me back. “You'll only tell me the truth if I promise to sleep with you?” She shoves against me violently, and I grab her tight, pressing my forehead to hers.

“You don't have to touch me if you don't want to,” I promise her as she reaches up and grabs me by the piercing in my eyebrow, using it to pull my face away from hers. “I just want you to stay here tonight. We can watch a movie, play a game, f*ck, I don't care. We can dress up in drag and go to a bar if that'll make you happy.” I manage to pull a small smile from her face. “But you can't leave when I tell you what I saw last night. And you can't blame yourself.” The smile disappears as quick as it came.

“Blame myself?”

“For Crystal,” I tell her and she blanches. I swallow and take a deep breath, keeping my hold on her firm, pressing her body to mine. “I found her last night.”

“No.” Mireya tries to pull away from me, but I won't let her.

“She was naked and pretty roughed up. I called an ambulance, but I don't know if she's going to make it. I don't know how bad it was. It was dark and hard to see.”

“You called an ambulance?” she asks, putting together the pieces. I put the entire MC at risk for that girl, and I don't know if Mireya's going to be pissed about it or not. God. I stay still, letting her absorb the information. Really, though, that should be the least of my worries. This isn't about me and what I did. It's about what they did. “Bested by Crows?” she asks, and I nod. There's nobody else with the motive or the ability.

When she pushes away this time, I let her, watching as she stomps over to her bag and rips the zipper back with shaking fingers. She digs through the clothes quickly, shoving shirts and pants aside like they've personally offended her. When she comes across a book, she pauses and lifts it up, thumbing through the pages like she might find some sort of answer in them.

“It's not your fault,” I say, moving across the room and pausing behind her. “You didn't make them do what they did.” Mireya laughs a caustic laugh and spins to face me, the book clenched so tightly in her hands it looks like she's about to start tearing pages from it.

“I picked that girl up, took her into the garage. I gave her a false sense of security, Gaine.” She shakes her head and her hair goes flying, moving around her face like bats. “And I killed Tray. I got them started on this misogynistic bull, and now there are strangers paying for it?” She practically screeches this last part, like she can't possibly believe this is happening. “MC business is f*cking MC business!” The book goes flying, and I have to duck out of the way. When I pick it up, a passage catches my attention.

He takes me up to the roof, where the sky is clearest and the birds sound loudest, and we f*ck like animals, like two souls unbound from their earthly shells. We screw until the day turns night, and I don't regret a single second of it. If I only had one moment left to live, I'd want to spend it in Adam's arms. As things stand, he's leaving tomorrow, and I know without a single doubt that I'll never see him again. I have to savor the moment, to appreciate the beauty in this single second and cherish it in my heart forever.

I toss the novel onto the bed, and reach my hands out to grab hers, holding tight, letting that burn I feel in my blood transfer between us. She can feel it, too, I know. It's there whether either of us wants it to be. We're made for each other. I don't say that aloud of course, but in my heart, I know it's true. Ain't nobody going to tell me f*cking otherwise. I'll die for her. That's what I have to do to end this. And maybe I'm not thinking clearly, maybe I'm blinded by my desperation, by years of longing, but it feels right. I touch one hand to my back pocket, to the ring I bought so long ago and will never get to see her wear.

“Mireya,” I say as I pull her closer, slowly, tentatively, desperate to get her back in my arms again.

“That bitch, Amy, must've slipped it in my bag,” she mumbles, but underneath her scowl, I see tears.

“It's not your fault,” I repeat, reaching up to touch her chin, drawing her gaze to mine. As soon as we connect, as soon as we plug into one another, the tears start. They roll down her face, wet and glistening, a torrent of emotions that I can't resist.

I want to cry, too, but I'll be damned if I show her a sliver of melancholy. Right here, right now, I'm going to show her a damn good time, leave her with a memory that burns hotter than fire, that scalds each and every time she thinks about it. I don't want a single other man to be able to top this moment. I'm going to do this shit right, going to destroy any leftover longing for Austin or anybody else. Before I go, even if it's just for a single second, I want Mireya Sawyer to be mine.