AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He shrugs. “Driving to New York?” His voice is gentle. “But you might have noticed I’m dragging the chain.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been through a lot.” He sits next to me. “I like you.” JD frowns and stares straight ahead. “But I know when we get to New York, you’ll disappear. I know we’ve talked about me hanging around, but you’ve made it clear you don’t want to be beholding to any man.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It’s now or never. I look at him, really look at him, allowing the walls I’ve built so high to crumble just a bit.
“JD, I’m...” My throat tightens, words lodged like barbed wire. “I’m not used to letting people in. To rely on someone, it’s like waiting for the other boot to drop, you know?”
He nods, his presence a steady force. “I get it. This life, it doesn’t exactly hand out safety nets.”
“Exactly.” I pull at a loose thread on my jeans, focusing on the unraveling fabric. “And it’s not just about trust. It’s... what if I’m not strong enough to stand on my own two feet?” The confession feels like shedding skin—painful, raw, necessary.
“Cheree.” His voice is a low rumble, the sound you feel in your bones. He reaches out, his hand resting lightly on mine, halting my nervous picking. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. And you’ve got me. Whatever comes, we face it together for as long as you want me around.”
“JD, I—” But the words lodge again, stubborn in their sincerity. Instead, I squeeze his hand, grateful and terrified in equal measure. Grateful because his loyalty is a rare commodity, terrified because now he holds a piece of me no one else does.
“Let’s just watch the fire for a bit, huh?” he suggests, and I nod, leaning into his side, the warmth more than just the blaze before us.
The silence wraps around us like a protective shroud. I rest my head on his shoulder, the rhythm of his heart a soothing counterpoint to the crackling fire. The fire dances, a hypnotic display of orange and blue, its heat kissing my face as I sit huddled next to JD, the night pressing close.
“Cheree,” JD says, his voice steady and sure, breaking the silence that has settled between us. “You’ve got this grit in you, fierce and unyielding. It’s what drew me to you in the first place.” His words weave through the crackling of the flames, wrapping around me.
I glance at him, the firelight casting deep hollows and sharp edges on his face, accentuating the scar that trails down his cheek. “JD, I’m not always as tough as I look,” I admit, the words scraping their way out. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread.”
“Even steel can bend, Cheree. Doesn’t mean it breaks.” He shifts closer, an immovable presence beside me. “And for what it’s worth,” he adds, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper, “my feelings for you...they ain’t fleeting or shallow.”
A shiver runs through me—not from the chill of the night, but from the intensity in his eyes, reflecting the fire yet revealing a warmth all their own. I turn away, focusing on the embers floating skyward, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.
We lapse back into silence, the kind that isn’t awkward but filled with unspoken understanding. I watch the flames lick at the logs, consuming them bit by bit. Constantly changing, wild, yet capable of providing warmth, comfort, a gathering place.
“Everything about you screams ‘alive’, Cheree,” he murmurs, gesturing toward our little blaze. “Uncontrollable, unpredictable. It’s damn beautiful.”
The compliment warms me more than the fire does. I let myself be pulled into the moment, into the quiet camaraderie that has somehow woven itself between us amid the chaos.
The vulnerability is frightening, but with him, it feels like the risk might just be worth it. Instead of words, I lean into him, my head finding its familiar spot on his shoulder, and let my breath sync with the rhythm of his heart.
Tonight, under the stars, with the fire as our witness, there’s no club business, no enemies lurking in the shadows, no past haunts. There’s just us—two souls carved from the same rugged stone, finding solace in each other’s rough edges. And as the fire burns lower, surrendering to the inevitable dawn, I realize that perhaps strength isn’t about being unbreakable—it’s about who stands with you when you’re at your most vulnerable.
“Cheree,” he says, his voice low, carrying the weight of the silence we’ve shared. The sound of my name on his lips is like a key turning in a lock I didn’t know existed within me.
“JD?” My reply is barely above a whisper, a tentative call into the unknown spaces between us.
His hand moves, slow and deliberate, toward my face. The rough pads of his fingers brush a strand of hair away from my cheek, the contact sending an electric current down my spine. I shiver, not from the chill of the night but from the heat that radiates off him, the careful tenderness in his gesture.
“You’re always so strong.” His thumb now traces the curve of my jaw. “And it’s okay to ask for help. Not all of us expect something in return.”
I look up, meeting his gaze. Those eyes, the color of storm clouds just before they break, hold me captive. But there’s something else, something deeper that pulls me in, a silent promise of protection and understanding.
“Sometimes I feel like one wrong move could unravel everything.” Unable to keep his gaze, I look down at my hands.
“Cheree, look at me.” My eyes lock onto his once more, and I find what I didn’t know I was searching for—a sense of trust that anchors me, keeping the world from spinning out of control. “We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I. Different patterns, maybe, but when stitched together—unbreakable.”
My heart pounds, resounding through the quiet night, echoing his words. As much as I’ve always prided myself on being independent, on being a lone rider in this unforgiving world, even when I was surrounded by an MC that took more from me than anything or anyone, I can’t deny the truth in his statement. There’s power in unity, in shared scars and whispered dreams.
“Unbreakable,” I repeat, letting the word linger on my tongue, tasting the possibility of it—of us. With every shadow that dances across JD’s face, with every flicker of light that touches his scar, I find another piece of myself reflected back at me.
The fire may burn low, the night may press in, but here, in the circle of JD’s arms, with his touch still lingering on my skin, I find a strength I never knew I had—the strength that comes from being truly seen.
