Fury: Book 2 in the Vengeance MC series (20 page)

I watched as Bella led Fury into the hall, so when they still hadn’t returned long minutes later, I decided to find out what the hell was going on. I mean, considering Bella’s opinion of Fury of late, can you blame me? If it were up to her, he’d be strung up by his balls and castrated in front of all his brothers. Which to my mind is a little harsh, but that doesn’t make the possibility of it happening any less true.

What I hadn’t expected when I went snooping was for Fury to be growling the single most heart-wrenching thing I’ve ever heard. In saying that, I’m glad I heard it. Not only does it explain his guilt and why he hasn’t been able to let go of it, but it’s also the missing piece of the puzzle I’d been searching for.

Years ago, when Rosalie was murdered, I overheard some of the guys talking. I shouldn’t have, but I hid behind the wall that separates the kitchen and main room in the clubhouse so that I could listen in on their conversation. As far as I was concerned, I wanted to know as much as I could so that I could help my friend. Fury was hurting, and I wanted to be there for him, but I couldn’t if I didn’t have all the facts.

Sadly, after they finished talking and walked away, I was left with more questions than I had answers. So, with no way to confirm or deny what I’d heard, I stupidly let it go. That was something else I shouldn’t have done; let it go.

I should have asked someone, anyone, why Fury was mourning the tragic loss of two people, but, at the time, I was young and thought I must have heard them wrong. That or, another person, one I didn’t know had died and no one had bothered to tell me about it.

Evidently, I wasn’t mistaken, however. What I heard was right. Fury was grieving the loss of two people, one of them his wife, and the other his unborn son. It all makes so much sense now. Why Fury takes a particular interest in all of the kids who are part of the club, and why he was ecstatic when I told him I was going into child care as a profession.

Peering at him from under my lashes, my head bowed as I study my purple, painted toenails, Fury’s expression is bleak. His mouth is tight, his eyes shuttered, effectively hiding his emotions from me, and he’s clenching and unclenching his fists beside him, the stark white of his knuckle contrasting with the deep greens and purples of my bedspread.

I want nothing more than to pull him into my arms, hold him and tell him I understand, but I don’t. How can I understand what he’s going through when he hasn’t thought to share it with me?

“Don’t look at me like that, Avery,” he rumbles, not lifting his head from where he’s studying his jean clad thighs. “It fucking kills me when you look at me, your beautiful green eyes filled with pity.”

That’s something I do know about him. Fury hates it when people pity him. He thinks it means they believe he’s weak. It doesn’t, but no matter how hard I’ve tried to convince him otherwise, there’s no reasoning with him sometimes.

“How do you suggest I look at you then, Tanner?” I ask quietly, using his given name instead of his road name.

Occasionally, when I need Fury to know I’m serious, I’ll call him by the name his Mom and Dad gave him at birth. He doesn’t like it, but he tolerates it. Fury says it reminds him of times he’d rather forget – happier times with his parents and his sister – times he’ll never have again.

I like his name, though. In fact, I love it. And perversely, I enjoy seeing the spark of anger he shows when I use it. It isn’t often Fury allows his cool, calm exterior to crack, but when he does, it’s like seeing a glimpse of the real Fury under all the layers of armor he wears.

When Fury doesn’t answer me, I ask,

“Why didn’t you tell me? It’s been years and you never said a word. All those times we talked over the phone, hung out when I came to visit or you came to visit me, you didn’t mention anything about your son. Why?”

“It wasn’t any of your business, Avery. You were just a kid back then,” he grumbles, still not looking at me.

“Bullshit,” I snap. Making my way toward him, I drop to my knees in front of him, splaying my hands one on each of his thighs. “You didn’t treat me like a kid then, so don’t use that as your excuse now. First and foremost, I was and am your friend. You could have told me anything, you still can, and I would never have judged you. I would have found a way to help you, Tanner. Back then, I would have done anything and everything in my power to see you smile again, and that includes bearing some of your burdens if that’s what it took.”

“But I didn’t fucking want you to,” he roars.

Flinching at the tone of his voice, I take a few deep breaths and wait for my heart rate to return to normal. I know in deep down to my soul Fury would never hurt me, but you try and tell the tiny, irrational part of my brain that’s still wired for fear that.

“I never wanted to see the same look in your eyes then as I’m seeing now. I didn’t want you tainted with the shit going on in my life, Avery. You were my sunshine, everything about you was light. When my world descended into darkness, I didn’t want to drag you down with me. You meant more to me than that. Fuck. You still do, but now, you mean so much fucking more,” Fury ends with a grimace.

What the hell is that about? Why would saying I matter to him cause him pain?

I don’t get the opportunity to ask him when he continues, saying,

“Get that out of your head. I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking, but from the look on your face, it can’t be good.”

“Get out of my brain,” I mutter half-heartedly.

Reaching down, Fury hooks his hands under my armpits, pulling me up and onto his lap. I gasp, but that doesn’t deter him as he settles me straddling his thighs, one of mine on either side of his.

We sit like this, Fury’s hands on my hips, mine on his shoulders, until he breaks the silence. At the same time, he tilts my chin with one finger and our gazes finally connect, causing my eyes to widen at what I see in his.

Fury’s bright blue eyes are on fire. The emotions swirling in them are so intense, for a second there I feel like I can’t breathe. Patience. Fear. Concern. But most of all, love.

Cradling my face in his calloused palms, Fury leans forward until our foreheads are touching.

“I won’t lie; I was hiding it from you. I never wanted to cause you pain, so I figured if I didn’t tell you I’d be saving, at least, one of us from having to feel it. You mean the fucking world to me, Avery. Even more now than you did then, so if it was in my power to spare you from the shit I was going through, which this was, I was going to do it. I fucked up, though. I should have told you sooner, I just didn’t know how. So much time had gone by, every time I thought of how to tell you, I couldn’t come up with an explanation to make you understand why I hadn’t to begin with.”

Interrupting, I murmur,

“You didn’t have to explain, Tanner. For that matter, you still don’t. All you had to do was say the words, everything else is just semantics.”

“Yeah, I get that, now,” he admits. “But back then my life was falling apart, Avery, and I couldn’t jeopardize losing you. The only thing good I had left was you. If there was any chance what I had to tell you would destroy that, I wasn’t willing to risk it. I’m not saying you would have turned your back on me,” he adds, again reading my mind. “But things would have been different between us if you knew.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” I challenge.

“Yeah, they would, baby,” he returns gently. “You don’t think I knew you had feelings for me then? I did. I shouldn’t have because there were so many reasons why it was fucking wrong, but I felt the same way about you. You were young, your whole life was ahead of you, and I was married. Not to mention, your Dad would have fucking killed me if he knew half of the things I thought about doing to his little girl. How your Dad would react wasn’t what kept me from making you mine, though, Avery. It was Rosalie telling me she was pregnant.”

Fury didn’t need to tell me that, I’d guessed as much. As young as I was, I caught the lust-filled way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t watching. I knew there was something between us that both of us felt, but neither of us would act on.

For him, it was because he was married. He would never cheat on his wife, he’s too loyal and has too much respect to hurt someone like that. For me, it was because I knew my affections wouldn’t be returned.

Sure, I knew Fury loved me, but that could never go any further than the platonic love he showed me as his friend. If it wasn’t for Rosalie dying, I have no doubt he would have stuck by her and their son, and they’d still be together to this day. A thought that has my heart squeezing in my chest like it’s been put in a vice.

Fury’s breath washes over my lips, my cheeks, and my chin as he exhales heavily. I can almost sense his inner turmoil as he struggles to find his next the words.

“Rosalie was nothing like you, Avery,” he confesses, causing me to flinch.

Tightening his fingers, they dig into my hips enough so that I’m sure I’ll have bruises from them by morning. I don’t care, though. I want him to touch me however that may be.

“Where you’re strong, she was weak. Rosalie needed me to take care of her and make her decisions for her because she was too afraid she’d mess up. She wasn’t confident, she didn’t like to leave the house unless she absolutely had to, and she didn’t want anything to do with the club. Actually, if I’m honest, Rosalie actively avoided everything MC related. My brothers and my club are a big part of my life. With me, you get them and vice versa. Rosalie didn’t see it that way, though. She thought when I came home to her, I left the club at the door along with my bike and my cut.”

“Really?” I mumble under my breath. “Why wouldn’t she want to support something that made you happy, Tanner? That doesn’t make any sense. You were a prospect when you met her, she had to know what she was getting into with you when you got together.”

Chuckling without humor, Fury smiles at me. It’s the first one I’ve seen from him since he arrived, and it is dazzling.

“You would think so, but regardless of how many times I explained to her the club was just like a big, extended family, and that the men and women there would lay down their lives for her, she didn’t get it. Or, I should say; she didn’t want to. Rosalie was happy making a home for us. That was all she wanted out of life, and, at the time, I thought that’s what I wanted too. I thought I could overlook the fact my wife alienated herself from my family, but it didn’t take long, six months I think it was before I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. The day she was killed I was supposed to be there. She made me promised her I’d be home early, and I agreed because I needed to talk to her anyway. No one at the club or otherwise knew Rosalie was pregnant because I hadn’t told them. I needed to figure out what the fuck I was going to do before I shared the news with anyone. If I left her, Rosalie would have taken my boy and I never would have laid eyes on him again, that much I was sure of. If I stayed, I’d be miserable for the rest of my life, but at least I’d have my son. It was the definition of a rock and a hard place.”

“Oh, Tanner,” I whisper.

Kissing the tip of my nose, he continues.

“Looking back on it, I think Rosalie knew we were at a crossroads. She didn’t say as much, but she wasn’t stupid enough not to notice me pulling away from her either. That’s why she wanted me home. We didn’t spend any time together outside of when we went to bed at night, and even then, I made sure I came in after I knew she was already asleep. You’re not going to want to hear this part, but you have to know,” Fury warns me. “I hadn’t fucked her for months before she was killed. I couldn’t bring myself to touch her when all I could think about was you.”

Holy crap! Holy, holy, crap with a cracker top.

I’d be lying if I said the thought of Fury being intimate with another woman didn’t cause the ugly, green monster, jealousy to rear its head. But hearing Fury couldn’t follow through, although it probably makes me sound like a screaming bitch to say this, does soften the blow a little.

“Um, I’m not sure what you expect me to say to that?” I mutter, examining his ever-changing facial expressions carefully.

“Not much to say, baby,” Fury shrugs. “It doesn’t make me feel good admitting I was a shit husband, but that doesn’t change that I was. When I should’ve been focused on saving my marriage, I was too busy trying to work out the easiest way out of it. I mightn’t have wanted to hurt, Rosalie, but if I were forced to make a choice, it wouldn’t have been her.”