Blood & Bones: Trip (Blood Fury MC 1)

Her being upset gave him a sliver of hope. That meant she felt something for him. That she worried about him. The same as he did for her.

He hadn’t said it out loud because he wanted to make sure she felt the same before he did. There was no fucking way he was telling her how much he loved her without her not returning that love. There was no fucking way he was going to rip himself open and sacrifice himself if she wasn’t willing to do the same.

But he needed to assure her of one thing. His loyalty. “Don’t plan on gettin’ caught with my dick in someone else’s ol’ lady. Or, hell, any other woman. Stella, it would be you and you only. Trust me on that.”

He remembered what it felt like to find another man fucking his wife. He’d never want her to feel that betrayal. That disappointment. That fury.

“You know it’s more than that. There always is with an MC. This isn’t some tennis club or bowling league, Trip. This. Is. A. Fucking. Motorcycle. Club. This is serious shit.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach, squeezing, like she was feeling just as sick as him.

Like her stomach had also been carved out with a spoon.

“I know what the fuck it is. But it’s a family first and foremost, Stella. Family. Got that?”

“Family that can turn on each other in a blink of an eye. Family who likes to party, get drunk, carry guns and knives. A group of alpha males who beat their chest thinking they’re invincible and can get triggered easily into violence. One wrong word. One wrong move. We’ve seen it. You. Me. Sig. Judge. Rook. All of us. We witnessed what can happen. We were a part of it. We were the fallout. There’s no guarantee that won’t happen again. No guarantee you won’t end up dead. I just can’t... I can’t...”

She was right, he couldn’t give her that guarantee. “We all die eventually.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered. “You did not just say that.”

“Yeah, I did, baby, because it’s true. We can’t live our lives worried what may happen, because then we’re not livin’ it. You get that?”

“I can’t lose any more, Trip. As fucked up as he was, I lost my husband. Twice. I lost my father. Even though she’s still alive, I lost my mother.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I lost my son. My blood. The boy I carried for nine months inside me. The boy I loved the second I saw those two little red lines on the test stick. The boy I protected and loved for eight years.” She lifted her head and a tear rolled unchecked down her cheek. But she met his eyes and held fast this time. “I lost him. I can’t bear to lose any more... Including you.”

Including you.

Holy fuck, those two words...

They stood only six feet apart, but it seemed like a mile. With a couple long strides, he closed the gap and didn’t stop until his body hit hers and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, wanting to absorb her, to absorb her pain. To protect her from the past. Protect her from the future.

He realized he couldn’t do that for her. She had to do that on her own. But he’d damn well help as much as he could.

“I can’t give you everything I have left to only lose you. Whether it’s by burying you or watching you end up with another woman when you finally realize I can’t give you everything you want or need.”

His throat was tight when he said into her hair, “Can’t lose you, either, baby. That’s why I’m here. Will give you everything I have, everything I am, just to make you happy. But you have to want it, too. Have to reach for it, not push it away. If you ain’t ready, then you ain’t ready. Just tell me to fuck off, Stella.” Goddamn it. “Just say it. I’ll walk out that fuckin’ door behind me because I’m movin’ my life forward, not gonna get stuck in place, not gonna go backward. Movin’ forward and want you to be there with me. You can’t, you can’t.” He swallowed hard, trying to rid the lump stuck in his throat. “Tell me to fuck off.”

Every second that ticked by seemed like an eternity. Every second she said nothing killed him a little more.

“Tell me to fuck off, Stel,” he whispered.

For fuck’s sake, just do it and let me go.

Her arms snaked under his cut and wrapped tightly around his waist. “I can’t do it,” came smothered from his shirt.

He closed his eyes and went solid. She was letting him go.

“I can’t tell you to fuck off.”

Oh Christ. Thank fuck.

She lifted her face from his shirt and said again, louder this time, “I can’t tell you to fuck off.”