Numb (King's Harlots MC Book 5)
“No,” I mumbled. “Just that I was a dick about it.”
“Whatever happened then, stays there. You two need to talk about now.”
“And say what?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what you talk about.” He lifted a dumbbell off the rack. “You just need to talk.”
“And what exactly is that going to do?”
“You talk to me, don’t you?” he asked, sitting on the bench.
“You’re different.”
“How?” he asked, doing several reps of bicep curls before looking my way. “Dale?”
“How the fuck should I know?” I snapped. “You just are.”
Coby repeated the movements with his other arm, placing the heavy weight on the mat in front of him when he was done. “I’ve learned in the time I’ve been with Brogan that life is too damn short. Make the most of today because you don’t know if you’ll get a tomorrow.”
“Are you writing greeting cards for Hallmark or some shit now?” I crossed my arms under my chest, leaning against the wall. I had no drive. No motivation to even work out. I needed to fuck this frustration out of me but just the thought of being inside another woman made my dick go limp as a fucking noodle.
“I’m just stating the truth, Dale.” After a couple more sets, Coby rose from the bench and stretched out his arms.
“I need to talk to her but I know it won’t start off well. We can’t talk without it turning into a fight.” But fuck me if I didn’t enjoy fighting with Max.
“Maybe it’s what you need,” Coby suggested.
“What do you mean?”
“Max is not who she used to be. The girls are worried for her and when my girl is upset over one of her sisters, that doesn’t make me a very happy man. Angel is on edge because he doesn’t need any more stress. They have enough with the baby coming.” Coby came toward me. “You two have to get this sorted or at least find some way where you can be civil.”
“I don’t know how,” I confessed, feeling like the smallest motherfucking person alive.
Coby sighed, his eyes warming. “All you can do is find her alone and approach her,” he said, his voice gentle.
“Since when have you become the relationship expert?” I teased.
“Since I had to fuck a stranger to save mine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Shit, man. I … fuck. How are you two doing?” If I could go back in time and kill Tina Birtch myself over the shit she caused for my friends, I would.
“We’re getting there.” He leaned against the wall beside me. “But it will never be the same.”
“Brogan loves you. Shit, man. I would cut off my balls to have Max look at me like Brogan looks at you.”
Coby chuckled, shaking his head. “She does, Dale. You just haven’t noticed.”
“Like fucking hell she has.”
Coby pushed away from the wall. “Brogan and I have an appointment but I want you to remember what I said.”
“All right,” I mumbled, watching him leave the gym.
Max was having a party on the weekend. Looked like I would have to make my appearance be known. I knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight, and that was a battle I looked forward to starting.
BLOOD DRIPPED FROM my fingers while agonizing pain ripped through my abdomen. I hunched over, wrapping my arms around myself, my mouth opening in a silent scream. The pain couldn’t be helped. No matter what I did, it only became worse. Please God, make it stop. Make the agony go away. It was like someone stabbed me repeatedly, not stopping even though I begged. Pleaded. The desperate cry for help on the tip of my tongue.
“Your baby is dead.”
“You need to give birth to it.”
Her, damn it. She was a girl. My baby girl.
My thoughts were jumbled as the nightmare took over. It had been the same dream for the past couple of weeks. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get out of it. I knew I was dreaming but I was stuck. Until something drastic happened, I couldn’t wake up.
The dream switched suddenly. I was in a hospital bed. I had something in my arms. Warmth spread through me and I looked down and saw her. My chest constricted. Her eyes were open, her irises white and no longer seeing. Her skin pale with lack of life. A sob tore from my throat.
Why did God take her away from me?
The baby in my arms giggled.
A scream escaped me. I shot up from the couch and fell off the edge, landing hard on the ground. A cold sweat coated my body. My chest rose and fell. I glanced around my office. I was no longer dreaming. I was safe. Breathing deeply, I calmed my racing heart and pushed from the floor onto shaky legs.
My gaze glanced to the pill bottle sitting on the table beside the couch. As much as I needed sleep, I didn’t need to medicate. Or maybe I did. Maybe it would help me forget if I stayed in a constant drug induced state. I was confused and shaken by the remnants from my never-ending nightmare.
Even though it was in the middle of the night, I decided to start planning the party for the weekend and texted everyone. It only took a matter of minutes before my phone started dinging with replies. I left my phone on the table and went to the easel in the middle of the room. It was the same thing every time. I only texted them when there was a party. Most of them didn’t even know who we were. They heard our name and that was it.
King’s Harlots.
Women.
They ignored the motorcycle club part, attempting to get into our pants the first time around. Only when Brogan stabbed a guy in the dick did the other clubs take us more seriously. But there had always been a straggler or two.
I wish I could have been as strong as my sister.
Having friended both Jay and her twin sister back in school, I thought it would be fun to join them. Little did I know at the time how serious Jay took it. And how different women were treated in this world.
I sat on the stool and rubbed the grit from my eyes. Hoping I could get inspired again, even if it was dark, I sat in front of the canvas and took a deep breath. With the empty tray in hand, I squeezed some black and red paint onto it and began pouring my emotions onto the blank canvas.
What eventually stared back at me forced new tears to pierce the back of my eyes. All my emotions. Fear. Anger. Pain. Suffering. All of it. They bled onto the white canvas until I looked into a reflection of myself. No one would know it was me. Hell, I didn’t even know it until I looked into the eyes of my demons.
All I wanted was this pain to go away. Painting canvas after canvas didn’t help my mood but after each image was done, I felt a little lighter. Like I was literally painting my feelings onto the blank space.
The phone in my office rang, making me jump. I snatched the portable off the table, taking a breath to ease my racing heart before answering the phone. “Hello?” I croaked, my voice still thick with sleep.
“What are you doing up this late?” Jay asked.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s almost four in the morning and you decide to text everyone about the party now?”
Shit. I had forgotten my sisters would have been included in the mass text I had sent out. “I had a nightmare.” No point lying about it. Jay would find out eventually anyway.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, worry coating her tired voice.
“It’s the same shit, different night. Every time I close my eyes, I see her.” I stabbed my brush against the canvas. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I thought painting would help.”
“That’s why you slept at the gallery?”
“It was late when I finished and I didn’t feel like driving.”
“I need to ask,” she paused. “Have you talked to Dale?”
“No.” I swallowed hard. “Is he out of the hospital?”
“Yeah, he is. He’s been training with Coby. But, Max, he doesn’t remember everything.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, gripping the phone tight in my hand.
> “Coby told Angel that Dale didn’t remember that you two are no longer talking.”
“Oh.” I rubbed the tight spot that had taken up residence between my breasts. “Now he knows everything I guess.”
Jay hesitated before she gave me the answer I didn’t want to hear. “Yes, Max. He does.”
Fuck.
***
(Dale)
Every time I closed my eyes, I thought of her. Max had engrained herself in my skin without even knowing it. I was the fool who pushed her away all because I was scared. No one wanted me as a kid, how the hell could a woman want me as a man?
I wasn’t sure what was different this time around or why. It didn’t make sense and the need to find out what the hell was going on was drilling a hole in my brain. From what Coby had told me, we had our problems but I didn’t remember half of it.
Working out was the only way I could ignore the voices in my head telling me how worthless I was and how much of a dick I had been. I didn’t deserve her. And I damn well didn’t deserve the baby she was unable to give birth to.
I needed answers. I needed to know what had happened and why she didn’t tell me herself.
It was Saturday night, and I was standing outside of the club, staring at her through a window like a fucking creeper. She was with Angel and Jay, laughing at what they said but the smile never reached her eyes. She was beautiful. So damn breathtaking and she didn’t even know it. Her dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a messy braid. Her curves had filled out, clearly not losing the weight from the pregnancy, but she was perfect. She was everything I was not. She was the light in my darkness. The innocence to my madness. I wracked my brain with memories of her but I only got snippets. I wasn’t even sure what was real anymore. The only thing I knew for certain was that I could still feel her. Every inch. Every breath. Every ripple as I forced the pleasure from her body.
My cock stirred, jumping in my pants. Adjusting myself, I leaned my head from side to side. The slight crack in my neck sent a wave of heat rushing over my skin.
This was it. It was time. I would confront her and demand answers. I needed to know where our baby was buried. I needed to know if Max missed me like I had missed her. I also needed to apologize for whatever pain I had caused.
“Dale?” Coby stepped around the corner with Brogan at his side. Her cheeks were flushed, her curly hair a mess on top of her head. She had that just-fucked glow and it only strengthened the madness inside of me.
Brogan smiled, whispering something to Coby.
He nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead.
“It’s good to see you, Dale,” she said, her eyes warming. “Be nice to my girl.”
“Sure,” I grunted.
Brogan headed into the club, the music inside the building becoming loud when she opened the door. “All right, bitches. Who’s having a drink with me?” she yelled, slamming the door shut behind her.
Coby shook his head before his gaze locked with mine. “She doesn’t even drink.”
“Looks like she’ll be getting trashed on water.” I chuckled even though the laugh did nothing for my mood.
“You need to go in there sooner or later,” Coby said, coming up beside me.
I would rather just watch Max. I knew as soon I approached her, she would close up and become withdrawn. Maybe even shut down until I had to force the thoughts out of her.
“Talk to her when Angel isn’t nearby,” Coby suggested.
My head whipped around. “Why?”
“Because the fucker is pissed at you.” Coby rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, I refuse to be in the middle of this shit so I’m only going to tell you this once. I won’t protect you against Angel.”
“He won’t do anything.” But even I didn’t believe those words when they left my mouth.
“Not unless it has to do with Jay. He loves you but her and their baby come first.”
“I wouldn’t do anything to harm them.” What kind of man did they think I was?
“Not directly you wouldn’t. Upset Max? Jay gets upset. If she gets upset, so does the unborn baby she’s carrying.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, looking down at the ground.
“Exactly. Whatever you have to say to Max, do it quick.”
I already knew this meeting would not go over well. But I found that I craved her wrath. I wanted the bite of her anger as it slid over my skin. I wanted to suffer like she did. And until then, I refused to forgive myself.
THE HAIRS ON the back of my neck rose. My breathing became labored, my chest tight. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Dale was right behind me.
I didn’t need to look at him to know he had a scowl on his face and that he was enraged. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was still gorgeous and affected me in the most sinful ways imaginable.
I didn’t want to face him at the party. I didn’t even want him there but needing to be civil, I gave in when Jay asked that he be invited. Not that he would have listened anyway. But I did make her promise she would help keep him away from me. I wasn’t ready for the confrontation we were about to have. This wasn’t the time or the place. But God, I could feel him. All over me. Inside me. My mind took me back to our first time. It had been hot, fast, and so damn satisfying, I became addicted. Dale Michaels had become the drug I craved. He was a player, an asshole, but the innocent part of me needed him. I had always been the good girl and when the bad boy finally started showing interest in me even in my twenties, I couldn’t say no. Stupid me.
Jay peered over my head.
Angel came up beside her and kissed her cheek before meeting my gaze. “You good?”
“I can’t talk to him here,” I confessed, raising my voice over the loud music.
Angel nodded once, kissed Jay again, and walked past us.
“He will confront you, Max,” Jay told me.
“I know.” I looked over my shoulder and swallowed hard.
Dale moved with ease, talking to people, accepting their hugs, but still kept his gaze trained on me. Only when people stood in front of him, did his eyes deter from mine.
My heart pounded in my chest at the sheer intensity in his eyes. He had filled out some, clearly working out hard before the mission that involved the attack. My body came alive at the idea of him even just talking to me and hearing his deep gravelly voice.
But I couldn’t do it. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Before Dale went into a coma, I could handle being in the same room as him. We were civil. Sort of. We mostly ignored each other. But now, something changed. I could feel it. I couldn’t place exactly what it was but something was there hidden deep within my soul. It was so close, but yet so far away at the same time. I knew the only way I would reach it is with Dale standing at my side.
“I … I need some space,” I told Jay and rushed to the bedroom at the back of the club. It had been mine for years. Although the club had been blown to shit a couple months back by Charles Brian, one of the douche bags from the Organization, our clubhouse had been rebuilt. But it wasn’t the same.
Sick of feeling sorry for myself, I went in search of the spare set of paints I kept in the room. I let out a sigh of relief when I found them stashed in the corner of the room between the dresser and the wall. I didn’t have a blank canvas with me when I moved into this room, so I started painting a mural on the wall behind the bed. The image of the map stared back at me. It was always my dream to travel the world but only making it as far as California—where my grandmother lived—seeing the map would have to do. Much to my sister’s delight, they liked when I painted. I wasn’t feeling the image but kept painting it anyway.
The sound of the door closing made me jump.
I spun on my heels, finding Dale standing inside the room. My room. A place I had called my own since the club had been rebuilt. A club he helped put back together. But now, he was invading the space like he owned the fucking world. He took up so much room; it sucked the air right from my lungs.
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No words left me as I watched him lean against the door with his thick arms crossed under his broad chest. A chest I had seen bare so many times I lost count. Under normal circumstances, I would have run into his arms and kiss him until we couldn’t breathe, happy and elated he was out of a coma. But this wasn’t normal. Not even remotely close. Our situation was fucked up. It was his fault. And it was my fault for letting him affect me the way he did.
He didn’t say anything as he watched me. The more he stared, the faster my heart beat. His eyes roamed down the length of my body and back up until they landed on my chest. His nostrils flared, the deep blue of his eyes twinkling in the light of the room. “You didn’t come see me,” he finally bit out as he reached behind him and locked the door.
I swallowed hard but stood my ground. He would not break me. Not again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t come see me,” he repeated, slower that time. “Not when I woke up.”
“Why would I?” I placed my paints on the dresser. “You had everyone else there.”
“But not you,” he said, taking a step toward me. “I knew you were there though. Before.”
“What are you talking about?” My heart jumped.
“I could smell you.” He took another step in my direction. “I’m right, aren’t I? You did come see me.”
Shit. I looked anywhere but at him.
“Tell me you were there. Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me you visited me.”
“Fine,” I shouted. “I was there. By your side. From the moment Coby told me you were in a coma to the day you woke up. I visited you. I was there. Are you fucking happy now?”
“Max,” he said gently.
“No.” I raised my hand. “You should leave. You can’t be in here anyway. If the girls find out—”
“What, Maxine? What will they do if they find out I’m in your room? A room I have spent many hours balls deep inside of that beautiful fucking body of yours. Four walls holding screams of pleasure and nights filled with passion.” He took another step in my direction. “What exactly will they do?”