Page 54 of Property of Thrasher
“Yeah? You scared the shit outta me, swingin’ like that.” He released my wrist slowly, like easing off a trigger.
I dragged the back of my hand across my face, suddenly aware of how blotchy and swollen I must look. He saw it too—his gaze softened, even if his tone didn’t.
“You wanna tell me what the hell that text was about?” he asked.
My stomach dropped.
He leaned back on his side of the bed, propped up on an elbow like he had every right to be here. Like this was normal. Like sliding into my bed in the dead of night was just another Tuesday.
“I got your message when church wrapped up,” he continued, eyes locked on mine. “I was coming back tonight, planning to finish up my business and return to you. Instead, I get that. ‘This doesn’t work. Thanks.’” He repeated it like each word tasted bitter. “So you gonna explain to me how I left a satisfied woman after dinner, only to get dumped before I hit the road back?”
Heat crept up my neck, shame twisting me in knots.
“I—” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “I shouldn’t have sent it.”
“No shit. But why?”
The sharpness in his tone sliced at me, but I couldn’t blame him.
He studied me, not moving, not blinking. Just waiting.
The silence stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore. My defenses crumbled under the weight of his stare, the memories of his touch, the echo of laughter I hadn’t heard in myself for years until he dragged it out of me.
“I thought—” My words faltered. “I thought you dropped me off so Maria could come to the clubhouse for you.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s what you think of me?”
I swallowed hard. “Maria was?—”
“Maria?” His voice snapped like a whip.
I flinched, but forced myself to continue. “She was hanging around. Everyone knows she… you know. She doesn’t hide it. She said now that I was home it was her turn.”
He let out a harsh laugh, one that held no humor. “You crying your eyes out ‘cause of Maria? That’s what this is?”
I hated how small I felt, sitting there with tears threatening again, with my hands twisting the blanket in my lap like a lifeline.
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” I whispered.
“And what? You figured I was dumb enough to fuck her after leaving you?” His eyes flashed.
I pressed my lips together, fighting the tears. I wanted to tell him no, that I didn’t think that of him. But the truth was uglier—I didn’t think I was enough to stop a man like him from wandering.
“Answer me, Melody.”
“I don’t know what to think,” I admitted, the words spilling out like poison I couldn’t hold anymore. “I’ve never… I’ve never had someone like you. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to believe it’s real.”
The tension in his shoulders shifted, the sharpness in his eyes softening by a fraction. He exhaled through his nose, running a hand over his face like he was trying to pull himself back from the edge.
“I didn’t touch anyone since you,” he said finally, voice low, steady. “I won’t. Not when I’ve got you. I don’t share, you made it clear neither do you. That’s our line. I’m with it.”
My throat tightened, fresh tears sliding down before I could stop them.
“Fuck, Melody.” His hand reached out, thumb brushing over my damp cheek. “You think I’d waste my time with anyone else after what we’re building?”
I shivered under his touch, torn between wanting to believe and fearing I’d fall too far.
He leaned in, his forehead pressing gently to mine. The contact unraveled something inside me, left me raw and trembling.
