Page 80 of Making Choices

“Good.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head, then yawns. “Now go to sleep.”

Although a bunch of questions whirl around my skull, most of them beginning and starting with Zeke’s absence, I find myself stifling a yawn as I wipe my residual tears from my face. My cheeks are still a little damp as I press my face back into the crook of Slash’s neck, yet it doesn’t faze me.

He’s been in my situation before.

He understands my pain in a way not many others do.

With Zeke gone, it just feels right that Slash is my safe place to shatter.

He’s been through everything with the two of us. The ups. The downs. The arguments. The fierce fight to stay together. Slash has been a part of it all. And as my body finally gives into the tiredness that’s dogging me, I realise that in the same way I need Zeke, I need Slash.

It’s a different kind of connection.

It’s just as important.

Which is why my mind wouldn’t allow me to break until he was there to catch me.

21

SLASH

A firm grip on my forearm halts my rush to follow up our latest tip on Bear’s whereabouts. “How is she?”

Sander’s question is hard for me to answer. For the past thirty or so hours, Cherub has run the gauntlet between heartbroken and numb. One minute, she’s crying. That’s usually after someone pops into my home to check up on her or late at night when I’m with her. The rest of the time, she stares blankly at the television or, more accurately, at the bare wall above it. That lasts for hours and generates the most concern for us all.

More worryingly, she asks for Venom, and we have to remind her that Toker remains missing. The tiny glimmer of hope that builds up in her expression in the seconds before she voices her question dies an instant death the moment we use her cousin’s disappearance to explain why her man hasn’t been to visit in the two and a half days since she was almost beaten to death and lost their baby. Every time Cherub’s faith in Toker and Venom’s return is dented, my gut churns with guilt, even as my heart surges with possibility.

For now, she’s mine.

Bebe’s ongoing snide remarks about my infatuation with my best friend’s woman can’t touch me. Neither can the side eye I receive whenever one of the Mayberry kids or Nadia discover us curled up in the guest bedroom together. I’m immune to their censure because, shitty circumstances aside, I have what I’ve wanted for a long time.

The dullness in Cherub’s eyes dissipates a little when she sees me. When she needs anything, on the rare occasions she actually verbalises a need, she asks me to provide it. And, in the middle of the night, when she’s crying her heart out, I’m the one she seeks comfort in.

It’s a sickness.

I know it is.

I shouldn’t feel this content in the midst of our war with Joseph Kingsley and the Maddison Clan, especially in the face of Brutus’ ongoing defection and Venom’s failure to step up as interim president.

Yet, here I am, revelling in my fantasy come temporarily true.

Terminally ill and uninterested in a cure.

“Slash?”

With a mental shake, I wrack my brains for a suitable answer, finally settling on a half-truth. “She’s up and down.”

“Do you think she’ll…” Sander trails off to make a slicing motion across his stomach. “Start again?”

“No.” My response is sharp. Narrow-eyed, I take a step toward him. “I won’t let that happen.”

“You’re not the grand master of the fuckin’ universe,” he retorts. “He’ll be back soon, and you’ll be left to lick your wounds like the pathetic, backstabbin’ dog you are.” With complete belief in his gaze, Sander closes the distance between us. Hands fisted at his sides, he snarls, “I can’t wait to watch him put you back in your box.”

Ignoring the urge to punch him in his insolent mouth as it builds within me, I make a show of looking around the empty room. “Do you see him here? ’Cause I certainly fuckin’ don’t.” Leaning closer, I continue in a drawl, “He left her bleedin’ in my guest room. Literally took off without a backward glance. I tried to stop him. Fuckin’ pleaded with him and that did no good. He still left. But I’m here. For her. For as long as she wants me… and if he finds the balls to return, I’ll happily step aside. Only this time, it’s up to him to explain to her what he did and why he did it, ’cause I’m not gonna cover for him. Then I’m throwin’ my hat in the ring and leavin’ the choice up to Cherub.”

“Why don’t you tell her that he’s gone then? Really move the dial in your direction.” Spinning around, I stalk toward the garage door. Like a yapping puppy with a heel fetish, Sander follows me. “Why lie to her and say he’s out lookin’ for Toker?”

Once I’m inside the garage, I jam my helmet on my head and settle on my Harley. Thumb hovering over the ignition button, I turn Sander’s question back on him. “Why don’t you tell her?”

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