Rage (Royal Bastards MC 2)

Boarding a plane and flying ten hours alone to meet a mother I believed had been dead all these years is crazy. Nerves jump around inside my skin like fleas living beneath the flesh. I keep checking the cell phone Gabe gave me now we’ve landed, my finger stroking over his name programmed in the phonebook, my mind replying to the soul-changing kiss he gave me. Hurting him took every ounce of strength I could muster. And now, all I want to do is turn around and run back. It’s undeniable he was supposed to find me. Sighing, I slip the phone into my pocket and make my way off the airplane.

I hate how hectic and noisy everywhere is. It’s scary being out in the light of the world. I was hidden away in the darkness of Milo’s control for so long, I don’t know how to function without direction and orders.

Clutching my luggage, I suck in oxygen and remind myself I’m safe, no one is watching me, no one is waiting to jump out and snuff out my newfound independence.

My stomach dances with nerves when I see a woman who looks like an older version of myself holding up white paper with my name on it.

I wait for the rush of emotion, the rush of love, to flood me with a need to take her in my arms, but there’s a lonely pit in my chest.

I could have had a completely different life with her.

“Willa.” She holds a hand to her chest, the sign long forgotten. “Can I hug you?” she asks, tears scaldingher eyes.

Reaching forward, I wrap a hand around her back, soaking her in, trying to take in the the moment so I can remember it.

“God, I’m so sorry, Willa. I searched for you.”

Did she?

Pulling away, she sniffles, wiping her face across her sleeve. “This is my husband, Miller.” A man with neatly styled white hair comes forward, holding a hand out to me. “It’s an honor to meet you.” He has gentle eyes, but his palm burns my skin, making me yank my hand away. Why did I think I could do this?

“Let’s go, shall we?” my mother suggests.

Once I’m inside the car with them, I pull the phone from my pocket and text Gabe.

I’m here safe on route to my mother’s house. Never thought I’d be saying that. I missing you already – Willa.

I can do this.

Seventeen

Gabe

Two days later…

Re-reading Willa’s last message letting me know she went shopping and managed to order the right size jeans make me smile and stabs away at the scab that’s been crusted over my heart since she left. Closing my phone and grabbing another beer, I gulp down the frosty liquid, dulling my senses.

“You’re a miserable cunt.” Jameson quirks a brow at me. “You did the right thing letting her fly the nest.”

“Fuck off,” I growl, signaling for the barman to bring another.

“It’s only a thirty-hour drive,” he reminds me. I don’t know if he’s trying to cheer me up or rile me up, but I don’t like it. Thirty fucking hours is too far. Even if I wanted to, I can’t go to her. She needs this.

“Jimmy has a couple more jobs for us to keep you busy. Stop sulking.”

“I’m not fucking sulking.”

“Tell your face that.” He pushes off the bar and taps my shoulder. “Come on, let’s find something for you to do—or someone.”

I don’t want someone. I want her.

Three months later …

Wind and rain batters the windows of the diner where Jameson and I are camped out, waiting for the monsoon to fuck off.

Reading the text from Willa telling me that she’s saved enough working at her mother’s wine bar to rent an apartment leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I fucking miss her. I can’t even bear to be in my own house. It feels empty. Most of my time has been spent out of town doing odd jobs for the Royal Bastards.

Jameson and I finally got our discharge papers from the reserves and are free agents. Jimmy is the vice president of the Little Rock chapter and is putting our names forward to become prospects at the next church meeting. I should be feeling good, starting a new path, a brotherhood, but there’s a hole Willa left that keeps growing.

I didn’t expect her to stay in Vancouver. If I’d known it was the last time I’d see her for months, I would have kissed her harder. Fucking drowned in her lips, never coming up for air. I want nothing more than to get on my bike and ride until I’m at her doorstep, but I wanted this for her, to go out into the world and discover it. To learn if the connection pulsing between us was more than hero worship.

“You going to eat that?” Jameson asks, pointing to my untouched burger.