Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC 4)

No.

No.

But… No.

“Of course I did,” he exploded. “I loved you so much that I went insane when Westcliffe beat you. I thought for sure he’d killed you and all I could think about was killing him with my bare hands. I wanted to end him and then join you if you were gone.”

I couldn’t go down that path, the one where he would have ‘joined’ me if I had actually died. Just the thought of Jet dead hurt too much, so I ignored it. “You loved me,” I repeated, shaking my head in disbelief, “but you still tore my heart out by making me feel like the one thing you knew I never wanted to become. My mother.” I practically spat the last word out and got angrily to my feet, searching for the clothes he’d stripped me of in our desperate need to become one. “Can you understand why I’m skeptical of you not getting bored with me this time around? You say you loved me then but you tossed my love back in my face when you didn’t want me anymore, and you’ll do the same thing again. It’s just a matter of time before you get bored with me, Jet.”

I found my shirt and put it on, not bothering to stop long enough to put on my bra. Image after image of him making me feel like a Club sheep, of him with Bubbles at the bar, of his emotionless face laughing at me for daring to fall in love with him, all of them raced through my mind and I was helpless to keep them at bay. They ripped through me like physical blows and that only made me angrier.

Spotting my shorts and panties, I put both back on as quickly as I could with shaking hands before turning to face him again. He was still on the blanket, his hair alone enough to tell the world that I’d just let him fuck me senseless. His face was clenched, his chest still covered in his T-shirt and leather cut, lifted with his harsh breathing. He looked more pissed than I could ever remember him being, but I didn’t care right then. I was pissed off too.

“Telling me you love me means nothing, Jet. I gave up on hearing you say those three little words a long time ago,” I shot at him, hurting so bad that it was all I could do to keep myself standing. “I have no expectations of the future with you because I don’t think we will have one.”

Liar.

I squashed that annoying little voice down hard before it could rear its ugly head. Maybe I was a liar, but it was easier to pretend like I wasn’t. I still had my pride, damn it. It was all that was left. Lord knew my heart was gone; it belonged to Jet. It always would.

“What would it take to convince you that what you’re so afraid of won’t happen again, Flick?” he asked in a voice so quiet I didn’t know if I’d heard him right or not. It didn’t make sense to me. He’d seemed angry, but his voice told me something else. He lifted his head and I saw his eyes. They were full of a torment that I didn’t understand, not coming from him. If I’d been standing in front of a mirror, I would have definitely understood it, because it was the same torment I knew was in my own eyes. “How do I make you see that you are it for me? That no matter what happens, there will be no one else? How can I prove to you that as long as I breathe, you will always be the only one I will ever want?”

The pain in his voice stopped me short. I opened my mouth—to laugh at him, to yell at him, to cry… I wasn’t even sure what I would have done, but nothing would escape past the lump that was now choking me.

Slowly, as if he had no energy left in his huge body, he got to his feet and crossed the short distance to me. One large hand reached out, his calloused fingers stroking over my cheek. His touch was so gentle, so tender, it stole the air from my chest. “Will I ever be able to prove that to you, Flick? Will you ever realize that I’m completely, unconditionally yours as much as you are mine?”

Again I tried to speak, but nothing came. My heart was pounding against my ribs, tears burned my those and throat, but my eyes remained oddly dry.

Jet let out a rough, humorless laugh. “I love you more than anything, Flick. Anything. All I want is for you to be happy. Do I make you happy? Will I ever be able to? Or did I destroy all of that when I was so stupid two years ago?”

Why couldn’t I speak? I wanted to yell at him that he was the only person who could ever truly make me happy while at the same time rage at him that he was the only person who could ever crush me into nothingness. My mind was a mess and I couldn’t even string a full sentence together. I was so confused, so lost. None of it made sense to me. The pain in his eyes, twisting his face, was nearly too much to witness, but I couldn’t turn my eyes away.

He took my lack of response as a negative and his shoulders drooped in defeat. “If I can’t make you happy, what will?” He grimaced, as if he already knew the answer. “Living with the rockers? Were you happy there?”

My chin started to tremble, but I still lacked the ability to speak, t

o cry.

“Okay, Flick. I get it.” He shook his head and turned away from me. He picked up his jeans and stepped into them, his movements jerky, not like his usual smooth predator.

My heart was cracking, but this time I couldn’t blame it on Jet. It was shattering because I could see him breaking before my eyes and I could do nothing to stop it. The inner struggle that was warring inside my brain wouldn’t let me so much as move a finger. I wanted to hug him close and tell him I loved him, that I never stopped, while at the same time I needed to hold on to those words, keep them safely hidden from him to protect myself.

With his jeans now covering him, he turned to face me again. His eyes were wet, which was like a punch to the chest, knocking all the air out of my lungs. This man was not my big, bad alpha biker. This was a man who looked like he’d lost everything and didn’t know what he was going to do next.

He stepped in front of me and lowered his head until his lips touched my forehead. I felt his lips quiver and wanted to touch him, to hold on to him and never let him go, but my arms were just as uncooperative as my voice. “Let’s go.”

I blinked then. “Wh-where?” Was that my voice? It sounded rough, almost strangled. As it moved through my throat, it felt like I was shredding the delicate tissue, bruising my voice box.

“It’s time you were back where you’re happy, love.”

~*~

Jet pulled the car into the driveway at his house and shifted it into park, but he didn’t move to get out. Instead he sat in the driver’s seat, staring blankly out the windshield. I sat beside him, still unable to make my voice cooperate. Even if it would, though, I had no idea what I would say.

Would I beg him to be speaking the truth? Would I plead for him to really love me like he claimed?

Or would I laugh in his face and tell him to go to hell?

Several long minutes passed and he finally blew out a tired breath. “I’m going to go get the stuff you brought with you. I’ll only be a few minutes. I don’t want you to go in. It will only upset Raven…and I don’t think I could handle that right now.”