Page 11 of Lily's Eagle

Sanctuary, my father’s MC HQ is on one of these hills-Resolution Hill, it’s called—but that’s not where he’s taking me. Life could be so simple if this was enough for me. The wind in my hair, a well-oiled, smooth-riding bike beneath me and a guy in my arms. Every club girl’s dream. Or so I’m told. But it’ll never be enough. And I’ll never just be a club girl. Not in this, my father’s club anyway.

But for right now, I don’t have to think about any of that. I just have to let the cool air and the bike’s vibrations shake loose all the crap weighting me down, making it hard to move, let alone think. I can just enjoy the sweet, slightly tangy smell of the trees, and the coarser scent of the clean earth and asphalt beneath it, as Eagle’s bike eats up the road.

This is it. This is the freedom that is my birthright. To be one with this land, the land of my forefathers and mothers, the native peoples of this land. Every time the trees lining the road thin out, and the vast indigo sky dotted with diamond-bright stars opens up before us, I feel the beauty and peace of this world deep in my bones. We are all a part of this natural beauty, my grandfather taught me, but that’s been so easy to forget living so far from my people. It’s so clear to me right now, though.

But Eagle stops much too soon. Atop a hill, at a picnic area that’s not so very far from Sanctuary as I thought we were. But it’s also near the diamond stars, so I don’t complain as I dismount and walk over to the nearest picnic table, climbing up to sit on it with my feet resting on the bench. The night is even colder up here and I’ll probably start shivering any moment now.

“Here,” he says and hands me his jacket. The jacket’s warm from his body and being cold is just a distant afterthought as soon as I wrap it around my shoulders. He takes a seat beside me, and I don’t want to love his scent riding on the leather, as much as I do, but I can’t deny that I do either.

“It probably would’ve been better if I went with you earlier,” I say as I look at him from the corner of my eyes, smile at him wryly. His features are chiseled out by the moonlight, making him look more like a statue than a person. I hadn’t planned on telling him anything, and he wasn’t asking, but I want someone to know.

“They let you go quick enough, so no harm done, I guess,” he says, his voice clipped like he’s not quite over how I pushed him away earlier. “But why did all your fancy friends just leave you there?”

“Well, I knew you’d come riding by sooner rather than later,” I say, and watch him very closely from the corner of my eyes.

He turns to me sharply, his eyes almost as intense as mine can get. “Why? Because I have nothing better to do that follow you around?”

He sounds pissed off and he’s right to be. But that’s not how I meant what I said. I meant it as a thank you. I smile at him, wrap my arm under his and lean my head against his shoulder.

“No. Because you’re the only person I can count on to have my back one hundred percent of the time. And I’m really thankful for that. But I don’t express it enough.”

“Yeah, try never,” he says quietly. He was tense when I started talking but he’s relaxed now, sighs as he lets out the breath he was holding as he waited for whatever jibe he expected me to come up with next.

But I told him the truth. I had planned to tell him everything else too, tell him exactly what happened tonight. But that’s my burden to bear and it’s too much for him to carry. He’d have to tell Cross, that’s part of his job. And then Cross would do something stupid and Hunter wouldn’t have a dad anymore, and Roxie wouldn’t have a husband and it’d all be my fault, because I don’t belong here and therefore can never do anything right here. Or, if I made him swear not to tell anyone, he’d just try and do something on his own, and get hurt, or locked up and I couldn’t live with that.

“Look at this peaceful, gorgeous night all around us. The swaying trees, the sweet wind, the twinkling stars,” I say after he doesn’t say anything. “This is our birthright. This is where you and I belong. Where our people belong.”

“What’s wrong, Lily?” he asks sharply. “What happened to you tonight?”

“Nothing happened,” I snap back. “I just finally realized that I can’t do any damn good in this town.”

I can feel him looking at me, but I don’t meet his gaze. He’ll just know I’m hiding something, and then he’ll keep pressing. The chief is my problem to solve.

“Come on, Lily,” he persists. “Just spill it. You know you want to.”

Why is he choosing right now to be this inquisitive? Why isn’t he just letting me say goodbye? Probably because he’s still pissed over the way I sent him away earlier.

“I already told you—“

“Something happened to you,” he interrupts. “I know it did.”

“How do you know?”

“You’re all shaken up. And because you’re being too nice to me,” he says and chuckles like it’s a joke that I’m too snippy with him too often, even when I don’t want to be. Even when I shouldn’t be. Oh, what the hell am I thinking? There’s never gonna be anything between us because he doesn’t want it and neither do I.

“The police chief attacked me because he wants Cross to come after him so he can lock him up,” I say without pausing for breath. “And then I ran away and he just let me. Maybe he’s looking for me right now. Or maybe he’ll come knocking on the doors at Sanctuary in the morning. I don’t have the first clue about how to handle this, so I just wanted to sit here with you and not think about it, but you’re not gonna stop asking are you?”

He’s looking at me with wide eyes, the expression on his face frozen and suggesting he’d just run into a wall. Hard. Not a single muscle of his is moving. Only his hair is stirred by the breeze, moving across his forehead then flying out. He looks like a stone statue. I shouldn’t have told him. Why the hell did I? Because I’m selfish, that’s why.

“I know,” I say. “I’m just as speechless. And at a total loss on how to handle it.”

“I’m gonna kill that piece of shit,” he says, and it sounds like he’s grinding stones between his teeth as he speaks.

I wince. Those words sum up the entirety of why I should’ve told him. And exactly why I can’t tell anyone else. They’ll just get themselves hurt. And for what? Because a smelly old man kinda groped me. Come on.

I lace my fingers through his and squeeze his hand.

“No, Eagle,” I say. “He’s not worth it and it’s my problem to handle.”

---