Blade (Silver Shadows MC #1)

Chapter Twelve

Blade

Why was I torturing myself? I didn’t need to see Becca go out on a date with Grant Nicholson. Jack and I went for a ride before we headed over to Grams for dinner. As we pulled into her driveway, it occurred to me, we should have dropped our bikes across the street at the clubhouse. The petty side of me wanted Becca to hear us pull in, so she knew we were here.

Swinging my leg over my bike, I headed to the side door, Jack following behind me. Walking into the kitchen, I was instantly hit with the aroma of pot roast, my favorite.

“Smells amazing in here, as always,” I greeted, leaning over to kiss Grams on the cheek.

“Stop it, you, I made your favorite. No need to kiss my ass.” She chuckled and swatted me with the dish towel she pulled from her shoulder. “Hi, Jack, glad you are here.”

“Glad to be here. Where else can I get dinner and a show?” Jack joked, with a grin as wide as Texas.

Jackass .

“She still up there getting ready?”

She must be. Grams had dinner ready for five-thirty, knowing Grant was picking Becca up at six.

Grams glanced at the ceiling before confirming, “She is.”

Before I could say more, we heard her walking down the stairs. As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Jack started with his bullshit, walking around her like a predator circling its prey.

“Beck, you look stunning.”

Knowing full well he was trying to get a rise out of me, I couldn’t help the low growl that rumbled from my chest.

“Thank you, Jack.” Beck looked over at me as if she heard me. “It’s just a sundress.”

“No such thing as just a sundress. A sundress is every man’s kryptonite. You hoping to get lucky tonight?”

“No, Jack, Grant and I are old friends. We are just having dinner to catch up.” I couldn’t control the glare aimed her way. “I had dinner with Ryder and his girls on Wednesday. Same thing.”

“You didn’t get dressed up for Ryder,” I mumbled, wondering if she would respond. She didn’t have the chance before Grant walked through the damn door without knocking as if he owned the damn place.

Prick!

“Wow, Beck, you look beautiful as always.”

He didn’t have the right to look at her.

Neither did I, not while I was keeping secrets from her.

“Thank you, Grant.”

Was she blushing?

“Good evening, Willow. You are also looking lovely.”

“Kiss-ass,” Jack coughed as he looked at me with a smirk.

Grant could try to kiss Grams’ ass all he wanted. She would never let him get too close to Becca.

“Jack, Blade. I wasn’t expecting to see you both here. To what do we owe the pleasure?” Grant asked, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit in my direction.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Grams spoke first.

“Grant, are you questioning why my guests are in my home? I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to have friends over for dinner, seeing as Beck will not be home.”

This woman would cut him just as soon as smile at him, and he had no idea what she was capable of.

“I apologize, Willow, I did not know you were all that close.”

Grant placed his hand on Beck’s lower back, a hair too close to the top of her ass for my liking.

I glared at Grant as another growl erupted from my chest.

“Shall we go, Beck? We have reservations for six-thirty.”

Grant led her toward the door, stopping briefly to look back at us over his shoulder. “Have a pleasant night, gentleman. I know I will.”

I stood so quickly the chair crashed against the floor behind me. I was about to jump over the table, when Jack wrapped his arms around me to halt my progress.

“Easy there, brother. You go after him now. You will be the one to end up behind bars.”

Breathing heavily, I tried to calm my racing heart.

If he laid a finger on her, he was a dead man.

“Micah.”

That immediately snapped me out of the haze surrounding me.

I looked over at Grams. Closing my eyes, I steadied my breathing as she reached out and took my hand.

“Calm down, Micah. This was my fault. I underestimated his ego.”

“No, I let my emotions get the better of me. I know how he works, and I let myself walk right into his verbal trap.”

I picked up the chair I had knocked over and sat.

“Let’s eat that delicious meal you made. No reason for the entire night to go to shit.”

Gram nodded, getting up to dish out our food.

We ate in relative silence, a few words shared here and there.

I couldn’t taste my food. My mind was on what Grant said and wondering what exactly he meant by it. Was he talking about enjoying his dinner as he caught up with Becca, or was he insinuating more would happen after the date?

When dinner was over, Jack and I helped Grams clean up, washing the dishes for her. She packed up the leftovers and sent them home with us. Wishing her goodnight, we hopped on our bikes for the short ride across the street to the clubhouse.

Stepping into the clubhouse, my brothers were like locusts. They knew Jack and I had dinner at Grams and every one of them was hoping to score the leftovers we brought back with us.

Edging up to the bar, Johnny handed me a beer. He was a good kid and would make a solid brother one day.

He started out a little rough, which was how he got his name. Everyone started calling him Johnny come lately because the boy couldn’t get anywhere on time to save his life. Once he found his stride as a prospect, we shortened it to Johnny.

“Here you go, kid.” I handed the containers to the prospect.

“These are for me?” He marveled, surprised by my gift.

“Hey, how come the prospect gets the leftovers?”

I turned to see Banshee pouting like a two-year-old.

“Because he is the only one that didn’t practically tackle me when I walked in the damn door with them, and because I gave them to him.”

“Hmph.” Banshee walked away, sulking like a child.

I swear, I had never seen so many grown men act like children over food.

“Hey, Banshee,” Jack called out. “Get yourself an old lady and you can have home cookin’ every night.”

I turned back to the bar, laughing at the look of horror on his face.

King sat down beside me, with Gunner on his other side.

Signaling to Johnny, who quickly brought him a whiskey, he asked, “How did it go?”

“To shit, that’s how it went,” Jack answered before I got the chance to. “Had to almost tackle him to the ground to keep him from going after Grant when they left.”

Jack lifted his beer to his mouth, and I shoved him from his stool.

“Tattle tale.”

King looked over at me and asked, “What happened?”

“Grant was just running his mouth as usual, and I let it get to me.”

“Least you were smart enough to take Jack with you to save your ass.” Gunner snickered, looking around King with a shit-eating grin.

I opened my mouth to tell Gunner to fuck off when Jack’s phone rang. He looked at his phone and then at me.

I knew it was her.

I fucking knew something would happen.

“Put it on speaker,” King demanded before yelling into the room to cut all the noise.

“Beck? Is that you? Are you ok?”

“Jack, I need you.”

Those four words had the power to annihilate me.

Barely above a whisper, but I could hear the terror in her voice.

“Beck, honey, tell me where you are.” Jack’s voice was soft and calm.

I was glad she called him. If I was talking to her, I knew I would be screaming in panic into the phone. I was barely keeping it together as it was.

“Um, I-I’m at the steakhouse just outside of town. I don’t know the address, but the name is… um it’s Grilled to Perfection.”

“I know where it is, babe. Don’t worry. Can you go inside and wait?”

I looked up at him and mouthed the words, I am going to get her.

“Uh-no. I don’t want to go back inside. Jack, I need you to come get me, please.”

“Absolutely, Are you safe where you are? Where’s Grant?”

“Um, I think so. I’m tucked into the building’s shadow. I don’t think anyone can see me. Um.” We could hear her take a deep breath over the line. “He left.”

“Ok, good, stay put until I get there.”

I glared at Jack, and he waved me off. I’ll be damned if he was going to get her.

“Beck, I have to hang up now. Stay where you are, ok?”

“Ok, Jack, hurry, please.”

Becca cut the call, and I immediately roared, “I fucking knew something would happen. I will fucking kill him.”

King placed his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down, brother. You will be no good to her if you lose it. Jack, take Ghost and Jingles and find the bastard. Blade, go pick her up and take her home. Make sure she’s ok.”

I ran to my bike.

My ass barely hit the seat before I fired her up and I was ready to go. I tore through the gate, not registering if the others had left yet. The only thought in my head was getting to her. Heading out of town, it occurred to me what I was feeling right now might be close to what she felt when I died.

Damn, how did she survive this?

Pulling up to the restaurant, she slipped from the darkness.

She must have heard the bike and figured it was safe to come out. The surprise on her face told me she was expecting Jack.

“Wh-what are you doing here? Where’s Jack?” She turned to look out toward the road, expecting someone else to pull in, and I saw the torn strap on her dress.

I had to stay on my bike to calm the rage before I scared her more.

“What happened?”

She looked away, as though she were embarrassed, almost as if she blamed herself. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Three more deep breaths and I climbed off my bike and walked toward her.

I gave her credit; she stood her ground despite what she had been through.

When I stood directly in front of her, I lifted her chin with a single finger. In the light from the parking lot, I could clearly see the bruise already forming on her cheek. I turned around and walked away, grabbing my phone off the holder on my bike.

“Jack, he hit her,” I seethed.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“Bad enough that a bruise is already there.”

I looked back at Becca.

She just stood there, waiting.

“Fuck. We’ll find him, brother.”

Jack cut the call, and I headed back over to where Becca stood.

“What happened, Beck?” I already asked her once, but she ignored me. She needed to tell me how bad it was.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go home.”

She crossed her arm with the torn strap over her chest. Preventing her dress from falling and exposing her breast.

She stared at me, waiting.

“Did he…?” I couldn’t even get the words out.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it, but… no he didn’t,” she snapped, shaking her head.

“Ok, come on, I’ll take you home.”

I walked toward my bike, expecting her to follow.

“I can’t ride that.”

“Have you ever been on a bike before?” I asked, knowing full well she had.

With me.

“Yes, it’s been a long time though, and it was just a dirt bike.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m wearing a dress.” She held her arms out so I could see the dress, as if I didn’t see her leave with it on earlier. Quickly realizing her mistake when one side folded over. She swiftly brought her arm back up to hold the dress in place.

I removed my cut and took off my shirt. Holding it out to her, she looked at it as though I offered her the plague.

“Put the shirt on and you won’t have to worry about your dress falling. It’s dark out. The dress is long enough that it shouldn’t ride up too much and the ride is short.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked at my bike, then at her dress. Conceding, she took the shirt from my hand and slid it over her head.

Damn, she looked good wearing my clothes.

Suddenly, the lyrics to ‘You Look Good in My Shirt’ by Keith Urban was running through my head.

Tearing my gaze away, I climbed on my bike and held out my hand to her. Feeling her hand in mine hit me in the gut, as I realized this was the first time we had touched each other since she returned home.

It felt like the last puzzle piece slid into place.

She climbed on behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist like she did when we were kids. All those times riding around town never felt like this. Feeling her squished up against me on my dirt bike had my horny teenage dick standing at attention, but this?

This felt like peace.

The ride home was way too fucking short because before I could blink, we were sitting in the driveway, her arms still holding me.

I turned the key, killing the engine and tapped her leg, letting her know she could get off. She moved her hands to my shoulders and slid off the bike.

I climbed off after her and walked her to the door.

“You gonna be ok?” I asked.

She looked up at me. “I think so.”

“I don’t want you to have nightmares.”

She had nightmares about everything when we were growing up.

Scary movies?

Nightmare.

Carnival rides?

Nightmare.

Arguing with her mother?

Nightmare.

“How do you know I get nightmares?”

Shit, I needed to watch what I said to her.

“I know when women get attacked, they often blame themselves and that guilt can manifest as nightmares. Don’t blame yourself for this. I don’t want you to have nightmares,” I explained, looking down at my boots.

“Well, maybe you should give me something else to dream about.”

I jerked my head up, surprised by her words.

“What?”

Looking at the door to the kitchen, she confessed, “Tonight was a nightmare. I shouldn’t have gone out with him. I thought I knew him. I realized tonight that I never really did, despite having met him so long ago.”

She paused and looked back at me.

“I don’t know you either, but Grams and Rachel do. They both trust you and I trust them. So, you must be a better man than him. I want you to kiss me and give me something to dream about. S omething other than what happened.”

“Beck, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I voiced. My eyes on her full lips.

It was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t tell her that if I got a taste of her again, I wouldn’t let her go this time.

“Ok, I’m sorry, I know you don’t like me. I just thought maybe… since you came for me, there might be something in me you were ok with.”

She was standing before me with her arms wrapped around her middle, looking so small. She was reading me completely wrong if she thought I didn’t want her.

“Babe, it’s not…”

“No, it’s ok. Thank you for coming to get me.”

She moved onto the first step, bringing her almost eye to eye with me.

“Thank you for bringing me home.”

She pressed her hand to my chest and leaned forward, kissed my cheek and turned away so quickly I almost missed it.

Before she could take another step, I said, “Fuck it.”

I grabbed her wrist, turned her back around, and pressed my lips to hers. I brought my other hand up to cradle her face as I licked the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. Her lips parted as I brushed my tongue along the inside of her mouth.

Sliding my hand from her cheek down to the side of her neck, I slid my thumb under her chin and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. She melted into me, and my body buzzed as my dick hardened and pressed roughly against my zipper, begging me to take more.

I knew I needed to stop, so I pulled back to look at her.

Her eyes were closed. She was so beautiful.

How would I stay away from her?

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she gazed into my eyes.

Did she see it?

Could she see me?

Her head tilted as though confused.

I had to leave.

“Dream of me tonight,” I whispered, before turning back to my bike. I climbed on and rode back to the clubhouse. Leaving her on the steps, watching me run like a coward.

Shit.

I was so fucked.