Page 143 of Straight to Me

“Don’t bullshit me. You said he got what he wanted. What did you mean?” Again, my eyes fill. “Did he hurt you?” He turns his head keeping his eyes on me, his lips slightly parted, those mesmerising greens staring wide at me.

“Not, exactly. He threatened me… at the clubhouse before we left for Australia.”

“How’d he threaten you?” His nostrils flare, fists forming.

“Dean, it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because he told me to leave you!”

“What’re you talking about?” he barks, getting angry. Then as if a lightbulb goes off he bangs the table and stands rubbing his head. “I knew he was against us, but I figured he was worried about me. Mads, he had no right to do that. I’ll make sure he—”

“You’ll do nothing,” I cut him off. He turns, his eyes meeting mine. “He didn’t hurt me, he just frightened me. But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it. He got what he wanted when you left me.” Jaw clenching, he looks hurt. “Funny thing is, I’d stressed our entire trip, about what to do and how to tell you. In the end, I didn’t have to do anything.”

The oven beeps from the kitchen, interrupting us. I stand to walk away and he reaches for my hand as I walk past.

Rather than retract, I let him hold it. Fireworks light up inside my body, in a way I’ve missed sorely. Watching as he strokes his thumb over my knuckles, I can feel the fire in my tummy warming, the muscles I’ve held tight for days, suddenly unwind. “Dean,” my voice croaks.

Stepping closer to me, he holds my hand to his chest, his other hand cupping around them. I can’t look at him. If I look into those eyes, I’ll be lost again. Taking his time, he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it with soft, delicate lips. “Don’t,” I whisper.

Not moving straight away, he lightly grazes his lips over my skin. The joy I feel at such a simple touch makes me want to cry. I miss him.

He lets my hand go. I tighten my dressing gown before walking to the kitchen.

“So, what’s next?” I ask, to distract myself.

“How’d you mean?”

“All those people at the clubhouse, me, how do we go about our business if we’re in some sort of danger? We all have jobs, things to do, people to see. I work with kids Dean…”

He walks to me, leaning back against the kitchen counter, folding his arms. “If I told you to stay at home, quit work and just be safe, would you listen?” I look at him, dazed by his ridiculous and irrational question. “Thought not.”

He watches me as I move around the kitchen. “We don’t know for sure what’ll happen, but they’ll do something. There’ve been beatings, shootings and knife attacks in the past, but considering the ambush, and their apparent kidnap plan, our move on their turf down southandthe fact we just attacked them, I’d say things might get out of control.”

“Mightget out of control.” I’m living someone else’s life. I must be. I rub my temples and my eyes, wondering what the hell is going on.

“I know this is a lot to take in Mads, but I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

I can see in his eyes he believes what he’s saying. “I know.” I walk to the fridge suddenly needing something stronger than tea. “Why the panic earlier though, you sounded like something was happening urgently?”

“A woman walked into the clubhouse this morning, whilst we were sat at church,” I signal if he wants a glass. He shakes his head as he continues, “she walked straight past the girls into the kitchen. It was before lunch so there weren’t many people about, but when the prospect found her, she was bent down searching through the cupboards.”

“Why?” I ask.

“We don’t know. She said she was looking for something, what that was, no one fucking knows. He dragged her upstairs to us. Her face was blank, like the lights were on but no one was home, if you catch my drift?” I nod and lean back against the kitchen counter, holding the bottle of wine in my hand as I listen.

“Turns out she’s a Sodom Saviours' old lady, apparently not quite right in the head. We checked her driver’s license, but she couldn’t recall her name, had no idea where she was or how she’d got there. She almost started a full-blown war right there and then.”

My eyes stare past Dean.Full-blown war.Had we not had enough violence to last us a lifetime? In my silence, Dean steps closer to me. He takes the bottle from my hand and unscrews the top. Placing it back down, he leans back against the counter next to me. “How does a lady who’s simply lost, almost start a war?” I ask without moving.

“It spooked us, how she’d walked straight in. You can’t just walk into rival territory without any reason or warning that that’s what you’re doing. We swept where she’d been, checking if she’d planted anything, but there was nothing.”

“Plantedanything… like a bomb?” I question, unable to hide how my voice wobbled as I asked. Dean looks to the bottle of wine, then back to me. He picks it up again, filling the glass as he speaks.

“Like a hidden camera, a microphone, or yes, like you say, a device of some sort that could harm us.” Dean puts the bottle down and passes me the tumbler. I accept it but still don’t move. “The only reason things didn’t go off, was because Rocco delivered her back safely. In return, he got a message; that it changed nothing, and no one connected to a Ripper was safe. We need to discuss with everyone involved what the best way is to keep everyone safe. That’s why they were all at the clubhouse.”

Lifting the tumbler to my mouth, I take a much-needed sip of wine. “Everyone except me,” I correct him.

---