Wolf (Evil Dead MC 4)

He took her face in his hands. “Baby, I know you are. And I want to promise you I’ll never hurt you again. But I’m a guy, and guys have a tendency to fuck-up. So, I’m not gonna promise you I won’t fuck-up. But I can promise you I will never walk out that door again. If you’ll have me, I’m in it for life.”

He stared down at her, waiting. Jesus Christ, he didn’t know if he could bear it if she refused him now.

Her hands closed on his wrists, and she pulled his hands away. “I can’t.”

He took a step back. “Baby, I know I fucked up—” He broke off when she remained silent, shaking her head. He swallowed as dread filled him. “It’s done then? We’re finished? I’m too late?”

He watched a tear roll down her cheek.

“If you want me to leave, I will. And I won’t bother you again.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, Crystal, I’m sorry. For all of it.” He turned and stalked back inside, through the shop, past the questioning looks from the O’Rourke’s who glanced furtively toward the back door. He strode out the front door and down the steps to his bike.

He stood there a moment, his breathing heavy, his heart pounding and a sick feeling clawing at his gut. Jesus Christ, it was over. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t wrap his head around it. She was done with him. Really and truly done with him.

He yanked on his gloves and strapped on his helmet, the whole time praying he’d hear the door behind him open, and her voice telling him to stop. But those sounds never came, so he threw his leg over his bike, lifted it up off its kickstand and fired it up. Then he roared off down the street.

****

Crystal stood motionless in the alley, his words replaying in her head as she turned over and over everything he’d just said, everything he’d just finally after all these years admitted to her. All the words she longed to hear for so long.

It wasn’t until she heard the echoing rumble of his bike firing up out on the street that she snapped out of it. He was leaving!

She ran for the door and dashed through the shop. Two steps from pulling the front door open, she saw him through the plate-glass window as he pulled away from the curb to roar off down the street. She yanked the door open and stumbled down the stairs, dashing into the street as he turned the corner vanishing out of her sight.

Out of her life.

She stood there staring down the street, her heart pounding. He was gone. He was really gone this time.

The door opened behind her, and she turned with tears rolling down her face to see Jameson standing there.

“You love him, don’t you?”

She nodded, whispering brokenly, “He’s gone.”

“It’s not too late.”

“Jameson, he’s gone.”

“We can still catch him.” He held the keys to his bike up. “If you want him.”

****

Wolf rode mindlessly, his brain on autopilot, his eyes staring unseeing down the long stretch of endless highway rolling out before him.

He’d finally come to his senses, finally figured his life out only to find out it was too late. He was too late. And he had no one to blame but himself. He’d done this. He was the one that had squandered so many chances until there just weren’t any left.

And he couldn’t blame her for not trusting him enough to believe the things he’d told her. But it still hurt like hell. It still tore his heart out. And now what was left for him? He could only imagine a lonely life stretched ahead of him. Sure he had his brothers; he had the club. But they would never fill the empty hole in his life where Crystal used to be. Nothing would ever fill the void she’d left in his heart.

He couldn’t even imagine trying again with someone else. What the hell would the point be? No other girl would ever be her. No one would ever be what she was to him.

She’d just sentenced him to a lifetime of hell. And he was guilty of every action that put him there. He’d brought it all down on himself.

The roar of a fast approaching Harley caught his ear, and his eyes checked his side mirror.

One bike, coming up hot.

It wasn’t until it was almost upon him that he saw there was a passenger, a woman with long dark hair. Then his eyes focused in on the rider and flared wide when he recognized Jameson O’Rourke.

Wolf’s hand let up on the throttle almost unconsciously, and then he was pulling over, coming to a stop on the gravel shoulder. He barely had time to drop the kickstand and throw his leg off the bike, before Crystal was off the back of Jameson’s bike and running to him.