Page 11 of Better as It

I stare at the screen inside laughing at myself sayingyou deserved that, you bastard.

Whether I earned it or not, shit still burns.

Morning comes and I don’t think I managed even an hour of sleep. My phone pings with a text from Red.

Mom’s worried. Dia won’t answer anyone.

I don’t reply because what can I say? Another text comes in. This one is BW.

She’s iced out mom now. Dia doesn’t need her blood, she doesn’t need a Hellion. She needs a rock. You’re up, brother.

Fuck.

How do I do this?

Letting my instincts take over, I pull on jeans, a plain black hoodie. I leave my cut off, which makes me feel naked, as I walk out of the house to my truck. I trailered my bike here with my belongings since BW made this seem like a long term thing. I packed up all of my life to come here to help her.

No matter what comes of anything. I came here to right a wrong I did to her and if I can’t man up to help her now, then all of this is pointless.

Without talking myself out of it, I pull up to her place. Nothing has changed about her condo, not that I expected it to be different. I park beside her car, sitting still for a minutethinking if I’m going to be able to fix things or make the next biggest mistake of my life.

What I don’t want to do is make anything worse for Dia. I came this far, no reason to turn back now. At her door, I hear Skye barking before I even manage to ring the doorbell.

“Skye,” I mutter and her vicious bark turns to a sweet whimper.

The door knob turns.

It’s like my world stops. The door cracks open, just a bit, then wider.

In front of me is a shell of the woman I left behind.

Dia.

She is wrecked in the worst of ways, but still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She is gorgeous in a real, natural, can’t be faked way. Her eyes are swollen, red, her hair in a matted knot on top of her head. She’s in a red Hellions hoodie. One that is far too big. A thought hits me like a punch to my junk.It’s probably his hoodie. Once upon a time, it would have been mine. Her pajama pants have little motorcycles on them.

She looks like sadness in a shell.

She looks like a woman without a fight left inside.

But she also looks like she’s holding on for something.

She’s my past.

She can’t be my future.

“Hi,” I manage to mutter in a low voice.

She doesn’t reply. She gives me a blank stare.

“I wanted to check on you.”

Nothing. Skye whines between us as I reach down and pet her softly.

Dia shifts uncomfortably like it is taking everything out of her to remain upright. Skye backs up as if she’s welcoming me inside.

“You don’t need to be here.”

“Want to,” I tell her what my soul feels. Because inside every part of me wants to be with her. Inside every part of my very soul never wanted me to leave. My head told me it was the best thing for us both. And until Clutch’s death, it was the best decision for us. Dia found love and safety.

---