Page 75 of Deserter

Jesus Christ, she made me crazy.

The night I hurt her, I had flashbacks to Ma in that crappy motel bathroom. I knew that Mick, our club doc, was going to tell me that she was losing the baby.

Because of me and my fucked up need to control her.

It was obvious that I had no fucking idea how to be a partner to her; I’d all but run away the first time she put my hands on her stomach.

I knew with certainty that if I got inside of her, she’d get hurt again and, as I wasn’t able to get the image of her cowering at my feet out of my fucking head, I stayed away.

I kept my distance.

For her.

For our baby.

And when that wasn’t an option, I brought my guys with me. As long as I wasn’t alone with her, she was going to stay safe.

Sleeping at the club and fighting off the club whores began to get under my skin. I’d never deprived myself of anything, yet I’d been living like a fucking priest for the last five months. I had so much pent-up sexual aggression that it started to spill over onto her again and I began using just to take the edge off.

I saw tonight just how much damage I’d caused. Celia was scared; had fallen into the goddamn nightstand to get away from me. It made me feel so fucking helpless. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I’d become my old man.

“You can’t fuckin’ ignore her, Grey,” Slim had snapped once we got back to the clubhouse.

“Oh yeah? And what the fuck did you do while Lou was knocked up?”

His eyes flashed with anger. “I took care of her, Jamie! Jesus Christ, you’re so afraid to let your guard down that you’d rather her see you as this monster. Is that who you want to be?”

Slim was probably the only one in the entire world who could say shit like that to me and not find himself on the wrong end of my switchblade.

The bastard knew it too.

I didn’t know how to be soft with her.

He was right.

I was afraid that if I let myself care for her, then it would only create more problems. My men deserved the guy who wasn’t afraid to shed blood when needed, not some pussy who chased after his girl like a lost mutt.

Never one to miss an opportunity to kick me in the balls, Wolverine had chimed in. “She’s a fuckin’ kid who’s sacrificed everything to be with you and I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you say something nice to her. You know women need to hear that shit.”

Slim had agreed. “If you don’t tell her what you need, you can’t be pissed when she doesn’t follow through. She’s not a fuckin’ mind reader.”

Wolverine had tried prying the bottle of tequila from my hands before giving up. “Look, you’re expecting Ol’ Lady material from a girl who spent her summers at the country club. I told you when you were a kid that if you treated your woman with respect, you’d have her loyalty. I was wrong. Celia has given you her loyalty, but you haven’t done a goddamn thing to earn it. You think I just threw Luce into this life?”

The next few hours had been a blur of drugs and alcohol until the guilt was gone. My mind had a compartment for Celia and a compartment for the club and fuck me if I knew how to combine the two.

Celia began to shiver in my arms, and I sprang into action. “Shit, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

With a sly grin, she stepped back and untied the dress, taking her time peeling it off her damp skin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Fuck me, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Celia,” I choked on the words.

She brought my hands back to her belly and begged, “Please, Jamie.” Goosebumps spread along her bare skin, forcing her nipples into hardened points.

I was a fucking goner.

I stripped off my kutte and t-shirt, suddenly sober, as I walked her back toward the bed. The wet denim clung to my thighs and I took pleasure in watching Celia’s teeth sink down into her lip as my cock jutted up against my stomach while peeling them from my skin.

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