Page 150 of Straight to Me

“I didn’t forget anything,” he snaps. “I’m worried that you’re not well. If you’re pregnant then that’s one thing, but being sick so often—”

“It’s called stress,” I cut him off dropping my head in my hands. I’m genuinely devastated by his question.

After a few minutes he tells me to pack a bag to stay at his. I don’t argue with him. He was right to have been worried. I don’t have a clue what’s really going on.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Although it’s taken everything out of me, the past five days have been manageable. Just. Each day’s brought with it a new comfort and understanding between the two of us; it’s obvious how we feel.

Deep down I’ve beaten myself up for not initially believing the severity of the situation. Since my flat got broken into it’s clear that his worries were justified. But his life, the one filled with violence and destruction… it’s the one I’m now struggling to see my place in.

I hate that I can’t run to him and tell him everything will be alright, thatwewill be alright. I hate that I can’t ask him to leave the club, to move in with me and get a fresh start.

I can’t ask because every time I even consider trying, something he says or does reminds me that he’s incapable of hearing it. His fear of getting me hurt overrides him, completely flawing him into an irrational state of mind. And because I can’t do any of these things, I keep the distance between us.

I need to be wise.

I’ve slept in his bed every night since staying here, while he slept on the sofa downstairs. I’ve offered to take it in turns, but there’s been no reasoning with him. Given that he feels as though all of this is his fault, and the sofa keeps him closer to all entry points in case anyone tries anything, he’s refused my offer every time. That and my sickness hasn’t passed yet, which only adds to his worrying and making sure I at least have a comfortable night’s sleep.

It’s sweet, but it can’t last forever.

I arrive back at Dean’s around five and head to his room to dump my stuff on the bed. He was on a club run up in the Lake District for two days, so Travis’s orders were to stay behind and ensure I was okay while Dean was away. But he’d be back late tonight.

The sound of Travis cracking open a beer downstairs feels well-earned after having been my shadow for the last forty-eight hours. I’d decided it was better to reduce the amount of travel and stay put as much as possible, so I’ve worked from the school this week instead of going into the office, which Alex was fine with. It seemed less likely anyone would try anything at a school with hundreds of people around anyway.

My constant state of nausea has been the biggest trial so far. Alex had even tried sending me home Tuesday because of it, but I’d refused. I couldn’t let Lauren down after our coffee date and finally getting her to open up and hopefully trust me. Seeing her miserable, slightly overbearing brother made me think she needed someone to be a constant in her life. I can tell she appreciates it.

So far, she seems to enjoy meeting up with me the more time we spend with each other. Her more frequent messaging is also a massive sign that she feels comfortable talking to and confiding in me. Which is a relief. To be honest, I think she’s been more excited because Dean showed up, and she got to see his bike.

He offered to take her for a spin when he was less busy one morning and her face lit up like nothing I’ve ever seen on her before. She was genuinely very grateful for his offer. I think Travis has enjoyed having a fan these last couple of days too, when he escorts me to the school and back.

In the bathroom, I run the shower and wait for the water to warm. On the back of Alex’s comments about going home and Dean’s gut-wrenching question of whether I was pregnant, I’d managed to book a next day appointment at the doctor’s surgery.

Being this sick for so long isn’t normal, so I need to see what’s going on. I’ve tried cutting out dairy, spicy food, alcohol and sugar hoping it was just bad reflux, but nothing’s worked. In the shower, I fancy treating myself to full hair wash, whole-body exfoliation and a head-to-toe full shave to make me feel better. Self-care at its finest.

An hour later, after dressing in some of Dean’s comfy clothes, I go down and find Travis watching reality TV. “Everything okay?” I ask as he laughs loudly.

“Fuck, this shit’s hilarious! Mads, you should come watch!”

“I’m just going to put the oven on, are you stopping for food?”

“No need, Dean’s neighbour came over with a stew whilst you wasted all the hot water.” I frown playfully at him. Travis grins and asks, “Tell me, does she do that often?”

I walk over to him and sit at the other end of the sofa. “At least once a week.”

He laughs shaking his head as I pull a blanket over my legs. “The dream… Oh, Dean messaged by the way, he’ll be back at nine.”

“Okay.” I’m glad Travis heard from him.

I fidget with the blanket, pulling at a loose thread.

Although they’d only been on a two-day run, the thought of him riding that far, given the fact the Sodom Saviours wanted him dead was still unnerving. He refused to cancel whatever it was they were doing and I wasn’t privy to the details. All I knew was that if they didn’t go, they looked weak. A strong show of force was what was needed, he’d said.

“He’s fine, Mads.”

“What?”

“You look lost.”

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