Whisky State of Mind (22 page)

She saw the shadow of pain in his gaze and
realized how hard it must have been for him to have to bury his own grief to hold this place together. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

She saw a flare of surprise at her question as though it had caught him off guard, before a flinch of pain rippled across his face. Sky reached out and touched the side of his face gently. 

“I miss him so God damn much already,” he whispered and she heard his voice crack with emotion. 

“I know,” she soothed, wishing she could take some of his pain away. He was usually so strong, so tough. It hurt to see him so vulnerable and…alone.  Alone like her.

She leaned down and gently touched her lips to his, seeming to surprise him yet again. When she pulled away he was watching her and looking a little unsure. “I don’t think either of us should be alone tonight. Stay,” she pleaded.

He didn’t need to be asked twice
; he dropped forward onto his knees and placed his hands either side of her on the bed, trapping her inside his arms. He kissed her so tenderly it brought a tear to her eye. Their mutual grief and loss seemed to bring a gentleness to their lovemaking that previously hadn’t been there. Linking their hands together, Sawyer raised them over her head and kissed her deeply, taking his time. It was slow and intense, so very different from their last time. This was…a connection. She felt it deep inside her, the bond that had always been there now reached out and joined them together, completing each other in a way that shook her.

Chapter
23

She was ready for a confrontation when she knocked on the door of Sawyer’s office the next morning. One look at her overnight bag in her hand and the slow, sexy smile Sawyer wore at seeing her faded.

“Going somewhere?”

“I need to get back to work. I should probably go back to my place tonight.”

He stared at her, his face giving nothing away, but she saw his hand on the table had clenched into a fist.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I need time…” It sounded pathetic, considering the emotions of the previous night they’d experienced, but that was just the point; it was so consuming…so
intense
. She wasn’t sure she liked the all-consuming, soul-sucking emotion that came with this man. It scared her, and yet, there was a large part of her that seemed to crave it…and that scared her even more.

“I don’t like you being there, alone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Damn it,
Whisky. I can’t…” he stopped abruptly and rubbed his hands across his face. “I need you…where I can see you.”

“Do you hear yourself? Jesus, Sawyer. My life has suddenly turned into some kind of weird soap opera. Normal people don’t have to live in fear of being abducted by bike gangs! Normal people don’t have to live in wonder at whether or not the man they love has murdered three men,” she snapped.

“That’s what this is about?” he asked slowly.

Was he serious?
“Yes, Sawyer…mainly, that’s what this is about! Why didn’t you just let the police deal with it?”

“Look, you have every right to be freaked out about that…I do get it. But, this life…the life I was born into…the one
you
were born into,” he added pointedly, “there’s things you can’t just leave to the cops to deal with.”

“That’s their job. It’s not your place to punish them.”

“It
is
my place, Whisky. The cops have to follow the law, and the law is a joke when it comes to these guys. They can’t be stopped by
laws
. Those guys were bad, and I mean,
really
bad. You think this is the first time they’d tried to gang rape a woman? If we let the cops deal with it, you’d have to testify against them to get them convicted, and I can guarantee you they would not let that happen
.
T
hey wouldn’t have stopped until they killed you. Do you honestly think for
one second
I’m going to stand back and allow that to happen?”

Sky paled at the thought as a memory of filthy hands touching her played through her mind once more.

“Razor was out of control; his own club couldn’t control him and that’s dangerous. If he got to be president of that club—which is what he was attempting, all hell would have broken loose.”

Sky dropped his gaze and stared blankly at the floor. Part of her was glad to know Razor was dealt with…she’d known instinctively he was rotten inside. Why should he be allowed to keep hurting people as though he had some God
-given right to do so? But was it really okay for Sawyer to take matters into his own hands? She’d never really had a stand on the whole death penalty thing before. Then again, she’d never been a near victim of a violent crime before either. She was under no illusions, except for the timely arrival of Shaggy and Gomez she would have been brutally raped, and left bleeding and broken in that alleyway. The thought enraged her. No, there was no way she could live with herself if she found out he’d done it to someone else if he’d gotten away with it this time.

“We’ve been struggling to keep those guys out of this community for the last couple of years and they just keep growing stronger. That’s why I agreed to help the feds…the
legal way
,” he added dryly
.
“But Razor had to be dealt with.
If we hadn’t done something, he would have started a war and wiped us out, and as much as you hate the thought of what we do in order to keep the peace …we need to do it, because there’s no way the cops could have handled a rouge biker club like the Switchblades if they’d gotten those guns.”

What could she say to that? In her heart, she knew he made sense. In the hearts of most people, sick of the violence and the mockery that criminals seemed to make of the law, they would rest a lot easier if they knew someone was out there eradicating the vermin…but then there was always the worry of what happens if they get it wrong…or go too far…or turned
rogue themselves?

“I just don’t know how I deal with knowing what you do…always wondering if you’ll do it again. I don’t know how to accept that.”

He gave a long sigh and shook his head slightly. “I can’t tell you how to deal with it. I can’t promise it won’t ever happen again…but I can promise you it’s never done lightly. I lose something…part of me dies inside, you know?” he said quietly, looking at her with a bleak stare that made her want to reach out and comfort him. “Until I found you, I never thought I’d get that
good
part of me back again. It’s who I am, Whisky. This club, your father’s legacy…it’s who I am.”

For a long time, they just stood and stared at each other silently. She wanted to tell him she could accept it; that she could ignore that seam of violence that would always lay dormant, waiting in the shadows…but could she?

Caleb’s words echoed through her head. Was this the life she wanted? Somewhere over the craziness of the last few days the line between her life and the club’s had been blurred. She hadn’t corrected anyone’s assumption that she was back. She’d been living here for the last few days and somehow everyone just accepted that she was here for good. At some point, even she’d started thinking that way. But, what about her life? Her job? What about going back to college? This life was not without its sacrifices. Maybe they didn’t deal in drugs and guns anymore, but violence was always going to be a threat that continued to lurk nearby. Could she accept that part of Sawyer’s life? A wave of panic washed over her. She needed a clear head to think things through rationally—something she couldn’t do with all these people, Sawyer included, assuming she would just fall into their lives and give up her own.

“I can’t stay
.
I need to go back to work. I need some kind of normal.”

He didn’t say a word, and she had to turn away quickly so he couldn’t see the tears that were about to fall. It was harder than she’d thought it would be to walk away from him, but inside she knew it was something she needed to do, for now.

****

Sawyer stared at the beer he’d just ordered in front of him on the bar and tried to ignore the despair that felt  like a solid ball of lead in his gut. She’d been gone two days.
Two
God damn, long-ass days.

You should have fought for her you dickhead
his usually respectful voice of reason growled at him. Fighting was ingrained in him—part of his DNA, but somewhere along the line he’d allowed self-doubt to creep in and chip away at his resolve.

He knew why she left.

She wanted a better life—one that didn’t remind her of her past.

He’d been kidding himself that the night they’d spent together after Johnny’s funeral had meant anything. He’d thought she’d felt it too. Guess he’d thought wrong.

His first instinct had been to go after her when she’d walked out of his office, but then he realized if he did he was just as bad as everyone else in her life, wanting her to conform to his desire and ignore the fact she wanted something very different.

Different like…Santiago. He hated even thinking the guy’s name. He’d made it easy for that bastard
cop to step in and pick up the pieces. Mister
up and coming, going places
Detective who could give her the white picket fence and two point three kids she seemed to want.

You could have given her that
, too, asshole,
the little voice added before tossing down a shot and glaring at him dolefully.

White picket fence? Manicured lawns and a swanky gym membership? That wasn’t him. Yeah, he had money and business was good, but the club was still his family and he couldn’t turn his back on them just to give Sky a shot at her so
-called perfect life.

Couldn’t or wouldn’t?

Damn it.
He loved her. If buying a dollhouse in the suburbs and a white frickin’ picket fence was what she wanted—then maybe he just had to suck it up and give it to her. Isn’t that what she’d been trying to tell him all this time? That loving someone meant sometimes you had to sacrifice…something everyone seemed to expect her to do but rarely ever gave in return.

Jumping to his feet, he left the untouched beer and headed for the door. He ignored the voice that was now warning him that it was probably too late to come to his senses, that she’d probably already made her choice. He couldn’t afford to stop now—already hope had flooded back inside him and was now
fueling his need to try and fix what he’d broken.

It was getting dark outside, but the setting sun threw a gentle glow of golden light across the car park…golden brown the
color of…Whisky. His step faltered and he came to a halt as he stared at his bike.

“Hi,” she said quietly, her gaze watching him almost warily as he forced himself to walk toward her.

“What are you doing here?”
Dumbass! Could you possibly have made that sound any more hostile if you’d tried?

She lowered her eyes and stared at the dirt beneath the bike and let out a shaky sounding breath. “I’ve done some thinking. I have some conditions.”

He didn’t dare breathe. “Oh, yeah?”
Holy shit. Maybe this was a trap; you better slow the fuck down and think before you open your mouth and scare her off again,
he told himself. “What conditions?”

“No more deals with the ATF. No more secrets…and you build me a house, away from the club
house. The club might own you, but they can’t have you the
whole
time. We need time away from this place so I get to have
normal,
for at least some of the time.”

“Those are your conditions?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as weak as he felt.

“Those are my conditions,” she said with a shrug.

He searched her eyes, desperate for some kind of sign this wasn’t all a dream
.
“I guess they’re not too unreasonable.”

She took a step
, then reached out and touched his cheek gently. “I’m sorry I walked out on you before. That was…”

“Shitty, cruel…cowardly?” he supplied helpfully.

He saw her flinch a little and for a moment felt bad. “Yeah, all the above,” she said quietly. “I won’t ever do it again.”

“You promise?” He didn’t care if she heard the gut
-wrenching anguish in his voice; she’d just about ripped his heart out when she’d left. He couldn’t go through that again.

“I promise,” she whispered.

He cleared his throat and told himself to man the hell up. “We have a way to seal a deal in the club, you know,” he said.

“Oh
, yeah?”

“Yep.”

“So what does that involve?”

“You. Me. bed.”

“No wonder you guys are so…close.”

“Think you’re up for it?”

“The question is, tough guy…are you?” she said, sending him a seductive grin that turned his legs to Jell-O and his dick to rock.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, scooping her into his arms and carrying her toward the club
house. “I love you, Whisk.”