Loving Me, Trusting You(65)

“Gaine,” I whisper, and the word falls quiet, drifting down to the still bodies like a leaf in the wind. Outside the warehouse, I can hear Austin shouting orders, bikes revving up, a chorus of frightened whispers. Strong fingers slide down my wrist and hold tight, giving me the strength to turn and look at the face of the man that I know loves me, that I might just love back. I swallow the pain in my throat and wait for the help I've always needed, but refused to accept. It's okay to say I want somebody around to hold me up in the worst of times. I've already proven I can go it alone. Now, I think, it might be time to prove I can go it together. It's a whole different set of challenges, another host of rules. Some things might be better, others worse, but it'll be new. “I need a fresh start.” I pause. “But I'm still pissed at you for running off like that. Fuck you.”

Gaine's face is sober, but tender. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he manages to smile, to turn up his full lips and draw me into his love, away from this horror.

“It's over and done,” he tells me, and his voice is almost as soft as the touch of his hands when he presses them against either side of my face. I move forward and touch my mouth to his, knowing that it's not over yet, not completely. I might go to jail. Or I might get into it with another MC. I don't know. All I know is that the men that betrayed me have left this world and fled to the next. Emptiness fills me then, and I know that I'm the only one that can decide what to fill it with. “Now, let's get the f*ck out of here before we get arrested. I bet Austin's sweatin' like a whore in church.” Gaine grins, pushing past the pain and the ugly, and giving me the strength I need to run from that warehouse and never look back.





We ride for a long time in the quiet dark, my arms wrapped around Gaine, my injured friends bandaged up as best we can and draped on the backs of other riders. My own trashed ride is lying abandoned in a dumpster. The second one in as many weeks. If I keep going through motorcycles like this, I'm going to end up permanently glued to my … I pause. Ay, Dios mio. I have no idea what to call Gaine. Boyfriend isn't right, never was. He's more than that now. I can finally admit it, even if it's grudgingly. I press myself close and revel in the warmth of him, of knowing I have someone I can count on. Finally. I sigh and let myself drift away, past the old nightmares, past the new ones, and into a place where I just am, where I'm resting in the moment, not caring what happened in the past or what will happen in the future.

I have myself, and I have Gaine.

For now, that's all I need. Well, that a new ride, but that'll come eventually. I'm not worried about it.

As we move across the earth like a stampede, carving our names into the wind and grinding the dust with our wheels, I feel Gaine's body start to tighten, like he's anticipating doing something dangerous. Again. Since I have no f*cking clue what that could be, I wait, expecting the worse. After all, life hasn't exactly been good to me. It's in my nature to see the glass half empty. So you can imagine that when he pulls off on an exit without so much as a word to anyone, I'm a bit surprised.

“Where the f*ck are you going?” Beck asks, voice crackling through the intercom. I know it's only a matter of time before Austin turns the caravan around and chases after us the way I used to wish he had before. But not anymore. I feel things for Gaine that I never felt for him. Besides, even if I did love him, I couldn't separate him and Amy, not anymore. If any two people were meant for each other, they were. And you and Gaine? Please, I'm not quite ready for that lovey-dovey crap yet. Love's complex. It's not easily dissected or understood. One day, I'll get it. For now, all I'm willing to do is accept it with pursed lips and an eye roll or two.

Gaine doesn't answer, not until we're pulling into a parking lot and he's lifting off his helmet like he's coming up for air, swinging his leg over the bike and turning to face me full on. The smell of salt tickles my nostrils and promises that the ocean isn't far off. I could use a vacation, we all could. I narrow my gaze on the man that's managed to touch my heart, to cut through the rusted chains and splay his fingers wide on that blackened bit inside of me. Slowly, very slowly, it starts to pump.

Sweat pours down Gaine's face and neck before soaking into the black fabric of his shirt. In the distance, the rumble of motorcycles sounds like the world's finest music. I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

“Sawyer,” he begins, swiping a hand across his forehead. A droplet of moisture pools invitingly on his lips as I yank off my helmet and hold it under my arm. His dark eyes reflect the stars and keep my gaze locked on his. I start to shake, and I don't know why. Before he even gets out another word, I'm in tears. Rough thumbs brush the liquid from my cheeks as he presses his forehead to mine, takes in a deep breath and says words I never thought I'd hear again, that I never wanted to hear. “Will you marry me?”

“Marry you?” The words catch in my throat and leave me speechless. I was trying to sound pissed off, but it came out more breathy than anything else. “Are you out of your f*cking mind?” I can barely whisper past the lump in my throat, my eyes lifting up to the bright sign above our heads. A quickie marriage on the fly doesn't sound like the most romantic thing in the world, but in that moment, on the road, on the run, with Gaine by my side, it is. Somehow, it really is.