Doc (The Kings of Mayhem MC Tennessee 2)

Purging the truth has brought me more freedom than I could’ve possibly imagined. I know I did what I did to survive, and I accept that now, just as I did at the time, but talking about it was the final piece of the puzzle.

It was cathartic.

Helpful.

Freeing.

Through it all, Doc’s unwavering strength and support were all I needed to get through the moments when the memories choked in my throat and the pain of what I endured tightened in my gut. His touch was tender, and his words were kind, but it was the emotion on his face that helped chase the demons away.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

At daybreak, I wake warm and needy. Contentment engulfs me because I can’t remember the last time I felt so rested and safe. Doc is sound asleep with his back to me, so I curl into him, intoxicated by the warmth radiating from his body. He turns in his sleep to face me, his arms winding around my body protectively, and my heart bursts. I’ve never felt so content in my life.

My desire for him takes hold, and I slide my hand over his hip and across his groin. When I feel the hardness in his sweatpants, I want him. I cup the rigid outline, then slide my fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats. His cock is warm and solid against my palm, and I slowly wrap my fingers around it and begin to stroke.

A moan falls from his parted lips as he begins to awaken, and excitement tightens in me when I think of him inside me. But surprising me, he removes my hand and mumbles something inaudible before he leaves the bed and disappears into the bathroom.

Stunned, I sit up, goosebumps spreading across my skin as the cold sting of rejection settles across my body.

A wall has gone up between us.

I climb out of bed and cross the room to the bathroom door, where I hear the shower running.

He’s thought about it, and he realizes he doesn’t want this.

A hundred other different thoughts blast through my mind, bouncing between rational and irrational.

He doesn’t want this baby.

Give him a chance, talk it through.

Maybe this is happening all too fast, and some space would be a good thing.

No, he regrets this.

Or maybe he simply needs time to process everything.

Did I make a mistake coming here?

I dress quickly and gather up my clothes, shoving them into my bag. It’s habit. If I need to make a quick escape, I want to make sure I don’t have to waste time collecting my belongings beforehand.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not running away. I’m not walking out that door before we talk it through. But I’m also not naïve, I get it because he didn’t ask for any of this.

The kidnapping.

The baby.

The Inferno coming after the Kings.

Me.

But I want to hear him say it before I walk away. For the first time in a long time, I feel so damn unsure about things. My world went into a spin the day Max turned up on my doorstep because I met Doc and formed a crazy bond with him in captivity, and my world hasn’t stopped spinning since.

Now, I’m sitting on the bed with my packed bag beside me feeling more uncertain than I ever have in my entire life. When he walks in from the bathroom, all the oxygen from my lungs leaves me. He’s wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, and the sight of his muscular, ink-covered body sends a wave of lust through me.

His hair is damp and spikey from the shower, and his six-pack is naked in all its glory.

He sees my bag on the bed. “What’s that?”

“It’s not what you think,” I say as I stand.

“That’s not a packed bag on my bed?”

“Yes, it is, but—”

“You’re not leaving me,” he growls, surprising me with the desperation in his tone and a sharp expression on his face.

It confuses me. I’m not sure what it means.

“I think a lot is going on, and I don’t blame you for being confused given everything that’s happening. Maybe we need to take a step back to look at the bigger picture. Get some space.”

“What are you saying?” His jaw ticks. “I don’t need space.”

“There’s a lot to process...”

“I agree. But what does that have to do with your bag being packed?”

I exhale. I don’t want to fuck this up, but I think I am.

“Look, I get it… it’s all happening really fast. If you’re having second thoughts—”

“Second thoughts?” Confusion pulls his brows together before the sudden realization pulls them apart again. “Wait, you think I don’t want you because I didn’t have sex with you this morning? And you think it’s because of what happened to you?” His fingers flex at his side. “Do you really think that’s the kind of man I am?”