Page 562 of Hell Hath No Fury
Until he sweeps me against his chest and carries me upstairs.
Across the landing and down the hall.
To stop at my door.
Crackers hesitates, his chest rising against me, a deep breath all he takes before he steps back, swivels, and redirects to his room.
Pivotal moments repeat in my mind, amplified behind closed eyes: the indifference on Digits’ face, the gasp Heather made,and the sound of not only the gun as it fired but—shit—the muffled squelch as it hit her.
Bile rises into my throat, burning where it stalls. I swallow hard, more, again and again, yet the obstruction stays.
“The feeling will pass,” Crackers whispers, lowering me to his bed. “You gotta be strong until then, you hear me?”
I nod, vaguely aware of his hands on my legs as he maneuvers me beneath the comforter.
“Don’t move.”
His heat leaves my side, replaced by the faint sounds of his boots on the floorboards as he walks through to the adjacent shared bathroom. The swish of water in the basin runs for a moment and then shuts off. Droplets hit the porcelain. Much like Heather’s blood on the wall.
“Oh, my God. Fuck.” I lift my hands to cover my face.
“Babe!” He captures my wrists, something wet against one. “Not yet.”
With the care of a lover, he sweeps the warm cloth over my face. Forehead, cheekbones, eyes, and ears. One-by-one he works his way around my features, fingertips gently caressing every curve and crevice to ensure not a scrap of her remains.
I open my eyes when the cloth reaches my collarbones, finding his rich browns staring back at me. “When he pulled that gun, Beth…” Crackers bows his handsome head, unruly hair tickling my chin.
“I know.” It feels so selfish to think back on what happened and worry for myself, but the fear is rational. Real. It deserves to be acknowledged. “It scared me too.”
He lifts his chin and the pain in his eyes nearly undoes me all over again. “You don’t belong here, babe.” He balls the cloth in his fist and extends his pointer to sweep the side of it beneath my eye. “Too good for this madness.” My swollen eye. “How did this happen?”
I open my mouth to reply, yet nothing comes out. How did it happen? How did one asshole biker fuck over a woman so badly that she turned against the ones who loved her? That she picked him, even when he spat venomous hate at her in front of her peers.
“It’s okay.” A frown tugs Cracker's brow, and he leans away. “You need to rest. Sleep off the adrenalin crash.” His bowed lips flatten, gaze darting over my face. “I’ll help you get properly clean when you wake.”
He makes a move to leave.
My heart seizes, panic flushing my skin a mottled red. “No.” I grab his arm, palm sliding down until I hold his hand. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”
“Fuck.” Water drops to the floor from the cloth crushed in his hand. “Beth, you’re makin’ it real hard not to add to the body count down there.”
“Don’t talk about her like that.” My chin tightens, nostrils flaring. “Please. She’s more than a footnote. She had meaning.”
His gaze darts to the door, all expression slipping from his face. “Yeah, I know.”
I get it. They didn’t see eye-to-eye at the best of times. But she was a woman making her way in the world the best way she knew how.
Same as me.
“Can you stay?” I ask again, unsure of the answer when he stands beside the bed, unmoving.
His hard gaze snaps back toward me, head turned. “For a while.” I relish the clink of his buckles when he drops to the bed, the waft of his cologne. “But they’ll need me downstairs soon. They’ll want to—”
“I know.” He’s the Vice President. Anything the men choose to do needs to pass through the officers first. Digits’ actions willneed to be reprimanded and my man is one of those chosen to be judge, jury, and sometimes executioner.
My man.Fuck. Even in shock, I can’t stop fucking up the words.
He’s not mine.
