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He makes that smile again, and his firm chest seems to relax.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you. It’s the last thing I’d want to do,” he tells me sincerely.
“I wasn’t scared for myself. I was scared for you. You’re my savior, Screwy. I don’t fear you.”
The way Screwy’s eyes widen suggests my words might have scared him, and he quickly leaves.
I feel much better for seeing him and knowing that he isn't mad anymore. I’m proud of myself for staying strong and not letting him push me away again. And I get the impression he’s pleased about that too.
Lydia’s tired. I can tell when I go into the girl's bar to check on her for the tenth time in less than two hours.
I ain’t all that happy about her being here. In my opinion, it was a stupid idea.
Each time she notices me, she gives me that timid smile that beckons me to go to her, but she needs to learn how to be independent.
She doesn't need me. All that shit’s in her head. She probably thinks I’m being mean by putting a wedge between us. But I’m doing her a favor. Our circumstances are fucked up, and the only reason she feels the need to cling on to me is because I’m the person who dragged her outta hell.
If she saw a shrink, they’d have a name for it.
It ain’t the same for me though. I have no excuses for feeling the way I do about her. In fact, I’ve racked the hell out of my brains trying to figure it all out. All I do know is, that seeing her for the first time made me start feeling again. All those emotions that I’ve kept trapped seemed to set themselves free when she stood up on that podium, and that has to mean something.
Something that I’m gonna have to protect her from.
Lydia got a glimpse of it back at the cabin when some of it unleashed. Hearing her speak about what they did to her pushed me over the edge, and as grateful as I am for her trust, I fucking fear it.
I try to relax. She’s only in the next room. She’s safe, maybe she’s even having fun like a girl her age should be.
Some of the brothers are still pissed at me, though Squeal assures me the vote they made was unanimous, and none of them were gonna throw me to the dogs.
I’m grateful for that.
Storm still looks at me like he hates me, while Squealer’s trying to put my mind at ease by telling me every ten minutes that Lydia’s okay with Alex. Tac offers me a line, and I decline it. I got numb to all that shit years ago, but I ain’t risking anything around Lydia. She’s given me her trust, and I won’t do a thing to jeopardize it.
I head back to the old lady lounge around eleven and can tell Lydia is ready to leave. She tries to hide a yawn behind her hand while Brax’s old lady, Grace, and Ella, Nyx’s wife, talk to her.
This time, when she sees me, she politely excuses herself and comes to me.
“You okay?” I ask, unable to deny myself how good it feels to have her walking toward me with a smile on her face. Especially after what happened earlier. This girl’s been through hell, and she can still find a smile.
She’s incredible.
“I’m a little tired, but everyone here’s being so nice to me. I don’t want to be rude.”
“You wanna go home… I mean, back to the cabin? Or you can still stay with Alex. I know she won’t mind.” Shit, why am I suddenly feeling so fucking nervous?
My heart drops into my stomach when she slides her hand into mine.
“I want to go wherever you’re going. I’ve missed you, Screwy.” She beams up at me, and it prickles under my skin. “I just need to say goodbye.”
I watch her return to the girls and say goodbye to them, kissing their cheeks one by one, and hate my brother for being damn right.
Nothing will ever be the same. Not now that I wanna wrap her up and keep her for my-fuckin’-self.
The girls really like her. I can tell by the way they respond to her. They’re all good women who have been through their own share of shit. And I got no doubt in my mind that they’ll be good for her during the time she’s here.
Lydia comes back to me, her hand immediately slotting into mine again like it belongs there. This time I don’t resist and use it to lead her out to the yard.
I brought the truck down here tonight. Putting her on my bike would be making too bold a statement, not just to my club brothers but to myself. I resigned myself a long time ago to the fact that there would never be a bitch sitting on my saddle. And this girl, who I hold the cage door open for, is the closest I’ve ever got to wanting to find out how it might feel.
