Page 130 of Patching Over

“Loved having you at my back,” he admits.

When we reach my door, I’m loathe for the day to end, but I know he has to work the next day while I work online to get my ducks in a row to finish up my degree. Like Tony said, I’ve never been a quitter, so I’ll focus my attention on getting the requirements for my degree wrapped up. I haven’t said anything to Jingles yet, but I don’t plan to stay in Cleveland any longer than necessary. Even with Tony residing in that city, there’s nothing but bad memories there for me now. If I want to be successful in my recovery, and not looking over my shoulder every time I get near my car, I need a fresh start, and it doesn’t hurt that Jingles would rather be here where he’s made a life for himself.

“Have you had a lot of women on the back of your bike?” I ask, then mentally slap my forehead. “Wait, no, don’t answer that, it’s none of my business, Jingles.”

“You’re the first person who’s ever been on the back of my bike, and outside of any kids we might have down the road, you’ll be the only one to ever have that honor, Belle,” he promises.

Kids? Hell, we’ve kissed a few times, and while the attraction is most definitely there, he may be getting a little ahead of himself. He must realize what he said because he revises his proclamation by saying, “Not that I want kids right away. Hell, I’m screwing this up, babe. What I mean to say is that further down the road, when we’re both ready for them, the only other people who will ride behind me will be any kids we might be fortunate enough to have.”

A nervous giggle escapes as I wind my arms around his waist. “I was a bit nervous there for a minute. Growing up for me kind of sucked until Tony came along, so I don’t even know if I’d be a good mom or not, you know? But as long as we’re not popping babies out next year, I’m good.”

He chuckles while tucking some stray hair that fell loose from my bun behind my ears. “Definitely not next year. Someone has her degree to finish first, then I’m sure she’s going to want to decide what she wants to do with it.”

“I want to work with animals as a vet tech,” I whisper. “That’s what my degree’s in, veterinary sciences. Tony was willing to continue paying for me to keep going so I could be an actual vet, but I didn’t want to do that.”

“So, you have part of a plan, then,” he teases, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

I don’t know what it is about forehead kisses, but every one he’s given me, and there’ve been quite a few today, makes me melty inside.

“Yep,” I reply, barely resisting popping the ‘p’ like I do with my brother because it irritates him.

“Get some sleep, sweet Belle. I’ll see you after work,” he says.

Long, glorious moments are spent kissing until we’re both breathless. When he finally pulls back, he whispers, “Sweet dreams, babe.”

“Good night, Jingles.”

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Jingles

“Brother, not sure why you’re so damn surly seeing as you’re leaving this weekend to see Belle walk across the stage as she graduates,” Phantom states as I toss the wrench in my hand to the ground.

“Not surly,” I grind out, glaring at the bolt on the engine block that won’t budge.

“Bullshit. Ever since Belle went home last month, you’ve been damn near unapproachable,” he argues.

Running my hand through my hair I look at him. “Sorry, Brother. Hell, it’s not that she’s not here, although that’s part of it. It’s that even though Dragon and Wrecker did all they did for Moira, she still refuses to speak to anyone.”

Phantom shakes his head, then rationalizes with me by lecturing me. “Brother, she went through literal hell. Maybe she’s not ready to say anything to anyone just yet. Maybe she’s still processing. At least she’s no longer catatonic, right?”

When he says it like that, I have to agree, although I’m unsure what’s worse; her staring off into space and not moving,or her sticking to the shadows at the clubhouse like a silent wraith. “Belle is worried about her.”

“Which means you’re worried,” he accurately deduces.

“I am because we haven’t gotten any more information out of those two fuckers in the basement either. Dragon said there are factions of them all over the place, you’d think those two would have more information.”

“They’re low-level lackeys, Jingles. Basically, they’re given orders to follow but not the reasons behind them,” he replies. “Doesn’t matter, they’ll be done and dusted by the time we hit the new year, remember?”

I chuckle at his words. “How can I forget? Rael was very clear that they’d be back for the holidays to finish taking care of business. I honestly don’t know how either of the two are still holding at this point, to be honest.”

We’ve broken bones, flayed skin from their backs, removed fingernails and toenails, dislocated knees, shoulders, and elbows, given them barely enough food and water to survive, and yet, they’re still breathing.

“Have you gotten the information together for the Christmas toy run?” he asks, leaning down to get the wrench I tossed down. Once he has it in his hand, he looks at the bolt that’s been giving me fits, taps it a few times, then loosens it. I huff in irritation because that thing refused to loosen for me no matter how much muscle I put behind it.

“Yeah, got it all lined up and will present what I’ve lined up at church,” I reply. “Kinda cool, actually, because once I put the word out, there were some clubs I’d never heard of that signed up to help.”

---