Page 73 of Deserter

He grinned. “We’ll get one of the club whores in here to clean up for ya, Celia.”

“No!” Their eyes widened. “I mean, I’d prefer to take care of it myself. Thank you.”

John nodded. “I got an idea.” He left and returned with a broom and a biker who couldn’t have been much older than me. “Dave’s a prospect. He’s gonna help you get this room like you want it.”

They left us and Dave nodded to me. “Torch.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Torch.”

I cleared my throat. “Okay… Torch, let’s get this place cleaned up before someone loses an eye or contracts something that can’t be cured.”

It took us thirty minutes to gain some semblance of order in Jamie’s room. My lower back ached from bending over and the baby had begun giving little kicks of frustration, but it finally looked just like it had the night I was taken.

“Torch, could you…” I ran the back of my hand across my sweaty forehead as the dizziness and nausea made a reappearance. “Could you grab some water for me?”

His eyes widened. “Sure. You want me to grab Slim too?”

I shook my head. “Just the water. Thank you.”

I took a deep breath and entered the bathroom. Jamie’s boots poked out from underneath the shower curtain and I yanked it back before sinking against the bathroom counter with a strangled sob.

I hadn’t noticed the dark circles under his eyes under the dim bar lights, but they were there. His hair was greasy, and his beard had grown wild, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked at him.

I’d seen him almost every night but hadn’t taken the time to really look at him and see what he was becoming.

“For the love of all the saints, what were you thinking, Jamie?” I whispered as I knelt on the tile before him, brushing his hair back.

My old friend, Diana, had snuck into her parent’s liquor cabinet one night in high school when I stayed over. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but it didn’t matter how many times I shook her shoulders, she wouldn’t open her eyes. Finally, in frustration, I’d dragged her into the shower and let the cold water hit her.

I used Jamie’s shoulder to get back to my feet and toed my moccasins off before turning on the water. I dropped his jacket by the sink and knelt again, rubbing his chest, as the icy spray soaked my hair and dress.

“Open your eyes.”

He groaned and tried to move away from the water. “Ain’t touching you, so get the fuck out.”

I rocked back on my heels before pummeling his chest with my fists as my fury mixed with anguish. I’d come all this way only to be rejected yet again. “Goddamn you!”

His eyes remained closed, but he pinned both of my wrists in his hand. “I told you to get your fuckin’ hands off me,” he slurred before releasing me. “Fuckin’ belong to Celia, so fuck off!”

I froze as a multitude of emotions washed over me. He had no idea it was me. And if he wasn’t letting anyone touch him while he was drunk, then there was no way he was while sober.

My teeth sank into my lower lip and I shook my head in wonder. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind—my biker had remained celibate as penance for what happened that night.

“Blondie’s gone and she’s not going to be coming back,” I stated. Jamie groaned in response and I grew bolder. “You don’t fuck around with anyone but me.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Sounded like Celia for a second. Nice try.”

I grabbed the edges of his leather vest and pulled him closer before lowering my mouth over his with a soft sigh. His lips tasted like liquor but felt like home against mine.

I’d missed this.

I’d missed him.

I took his lower lip between my teeth and he exhaled a warm breath into my mouth before pulling back. “I can’t—”

“Open your eyes, Jamie.”

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