Page 48 of Calypso's Shield
And I love him, too.
I swing my legs off the bed, wincing at the soreness in my chest. The doctors keep telling me I need to rest, but I don’t give a shit. I need to find him.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Allura warns, but her tone lacks conviction. She knows what I’m about to do. She releases a heavy sigh. “At least let me help you.”
“No,” I say firmly, pushing myself up. I steady myself on the edge of the bed. “I’ll do this myself. I need to see him, Allura. I need to fix this.”
She hesitates for a moment, then nods. “You’re not alone, Calypso. Just don’t make this harder than it already is.”
I change as quickly as I can out of the God awful hospital gown and into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt that doesn’t hide my baby bump very well. Allura did have to help me when I lost my breath, but she didn’t say a word. She hands me a new cut since mine was ruined, and I slide it on. The feeling is like a second skin. The nurses gave me a tough time about leaving, but I ignored them as I walked toward the elevator.
The elevator ride down to the parking garage is quiet. My heart is pounding in my chest, a mixture of fear and resolve twisting inside me. I’m scared, terrified even, but it’s not just the thought of Farris’s rejection that scares me. It’s the fact that he doesn’t know the truth. The truth that might fix everything. The truth that might bring us back together.
I slide onto my bike, straddling it with care, ignoring the dull throb in my chest. The engine roars to life beneath me, and for a moment, I feel like I can breathe again. I ride out of the hospital parking lot, my thoughts a tangled mess of doubt and determination. I’m going to find him. I’m going to make sure he knows.
When Allura and I pull up to the clubhouse, the sun is setting, casting long shadows over the parking lot. My pulse quickens. I can see the bikes. Farris’s bike is parked in front, the chrome glinting in the fading light.
I push my bike to a stop and walk toward the door, my breath shallow. I’m not sure what I’ll say when I see him, but I know I can’t wait any longer. I walk down the long corridor and into the Common room. Allura is waiting outside, letting me handle this on my own.
The music is loud. The scent of whiskey and smoke is thick in the air. Bikers and club girls are everywhere, draped over couches, drinking, talking in hushed voices about the war they were in. But I don’t give a shit about any of them because I see him.
Farris is at the bar, bottle in hand, eyes locked on nothing. He looks haunted, exhausted, and broken in a way I’ve never seen before. His back is to me, his posture rigid. I know the second he feels me. His shoulders tense, and his head turns just enough for me to see the edge of his jaw.
I take a step forward, and heart is thumping louder now. I can’t back down, not now. The second I step toward him, Blayze moves into my path.
I grit my teeth. “Move.”
Blayze shakes his head. “He doesn’t want to see you, Lyp.”
I don’t give a fuck. “He doesn’t get a choice,” I snap. “This isn’t over.”
Blayze sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw, but I see a slight nod. He steps aside, and I don’t waste another second.
“Farris,” I whisper. Farris doesn’t even turn as I approach. When I grab the bottle from his hand and slam it onto the bar, he goes dead fucking still. “Look at me,” I demand.
Nothing. “Farris.” Still nothing. Fuck this.
He doesn’t move at first. Then, slowly, he turns to face me. His eyes are dark and haunted, and I can see their pain and anger. He looks like he’s been through hell, and maybe he has. I can’t blame him for being angry with me. But I won’t let him believe I don’t need him, that this baby doesn’t need him.
“You thought you lost me,” I whisper. “You thought you lost us.”
“You think I don’t know what that’s like?” I continue, voice sharp. “You think I don’t feel that every second I breathe?”
His blue eyes flash, and his body coils tight like he’s ready to snap. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I challenge. “Tell you the truth?”
His throat bobs. “It doesn’t change anything.”
Wrong fucking answer.
“It changes everything.” My breath is shaking, my pulse hammering, but I don’t break eye contact.
“I should’ve told you,” I begin, my voice breaking. “I should’ve told you sooner. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t find the words. I was scared, Farris. I didn’t want you to walk away from me.” Farris’s jaw clenches, his hands gripping the edge of the bar so tight I hear the wood creak.
“You… you lied to me,” he says, his voice low and rough. His eyes search mine, but I can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or both.
“I didn’t lie to you,” I say quickly, stepping closer. Farris raises an eyebrow. “Ok, I did at first, but I didn’t lie to you at the hospital.”
