Unbreakable: Unrequited Part Two (Fallen Aces MC Book 2) (3 page)

“Come, eat. You need to get a bit of strength back if you’re gonna have to deal with Apex’s shit.”

I follow Hooch through to the dining table, a hell of a lot more confused than I was when I first stepped in the room. The saying goes that sometimes less is more, and the deeper I go into this mess with the club, with Elena, the more I have to agree.

Maybe I should step out before I get stuck at this meal and try Sully again? But what’s the point? His call history will show him who rang, and if he were in a position to, he would ring back. He could be busy. Maybe he’s with Carlos? There are a thousand reasons why Sully didn’t answer. Still, it does nothing to appease my worry.

I take a seat at the table and half-heartedly listen to the guys make small talk with our hosts. The woman—Edith—works at an old folks’ home in Kansas City. They’d been on the way in to drop her off for her shift when she’d spotted my boots poking out from behind my bike on the side of the road and had asked her husband to pull over.

“It really is great to see you up and about,” Edith says, passing me a plate of bite-sized pastries. “I was worried about you for a bit there.”

The woman’s a paradox. Here she is, sitting in her country-themed kitchen, full of manners and being the perfect host, while talking with an outlaw she’s aided off the radar as though it’s no big deal. I take stock of her pressed pale blue shirt and sensible fawn slacks as she stands to retrieve the salt and pepper shakers from the counter.

“We’re thankful for your help,” Hooch says, filling the silence and giving me a pointed glare. “Would have been a darn sight harder if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“You look confused,” Edith’s husband says, rolling up the sleeves of his work shirt while he eyes me over the table. “Bet you’re wondering why people like us would risk the trouble to help you lot.”

“Yeah,” I admit. “A little.”

“I was young once, too, you know. Made a few mistakes of my own.” He lifts a placating hand. “Not that I’m saying you boys made any mistakes—each to their own—but priorities change as you get older.” He exchanges a look with Edith as she fidgets with her fork.

“You can tell them, Lee,” she murmurs. “It’s okay.”

Murphy and Hooch appear as lost as I am, hesitating with food halfway to their mouths as they look between our two hosts. Seamus continues chewing on his lunch while he stares off into nothing, clearly tuned out from what goes on around him.

Edith’s husband—Lee—takes a deep breath and sets his lunch down, pushing the plate toward the center of the table. “Bought my first bike when I was fifteen. Saved the money working an after-school job at our neighbor’s farm for three and a half years. Thought I was the biggest, meanest, and baddest asshole in town. Had a chip on my shoulder a mile wide, and an attitude that would eventually get me almost killed.”

“Were you patched to anyone?” Murphy asks. The question’s not hostile—he’s genuinely curious.

“Devil’s Enforcers.”

“Why did you leave?” I say. There isn’t a thing in his place that indicates he ever belonged to an MC. He’s buried his memories, which means whatever the reason for leaving was, it can’t be good.

Edith answers for him. She rises from the table and pulls the hem of her shirt out of the waist of her slacks. Hooch clears his throat, and Murphy averts his gaze. Seamus stares at the wall and chews.

I lock eyes with Edith as she bunches the fabric up to her ribs to reveal a mass of scars. “Buckshot.” I give her a respectful nod as she tucks her shirt back in and takes her seat again. “We were out on a club ride for a fundraiser when a few uninvited guests thought they’d join in and started causing trouble. Lee was the Enforcer’s road captain at the time, and so he felt it was his responsibility to get them to leave.”

“Take it they didn’t?” Hooch leans back in his chair, paying no mind to his food.

“Nope.” Lee shakes his head. “A fight broke out while we were stopped somewhere for lunch. The old ladies were seated outside with the kids, close to the play area. We pushed the intruders back into the parking lot, but when they drew weapons and started toward the building again . . .” He scrubs a hand over his face, clearly trying to keep his composure. I open my mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to say anymore, but he holds a hand up to quiet me and gives a quick tip of the head. “When they started back toward our group, the families were right in the middle of it.” He reaches out and finds Edith’s hand. “This woman is the bravest lady I know.”

A lone tear escapes Edith’s eye as she smiles at Lee. Silence surrounds the table, but somehow it’s fitting—respectful.

“Who caused the trouble?” Hooch quietly asks.

“Blood Eagles.”

Seamus finally stops chewing and looks at Lee. The remaining three of us look at one another, and Murphy huffs out a breath as he tosses both hands behind his head. “Of course.”

“Anyway,” Lee says, “I know they’ve got a war on with you lot, which is why I agreed to help when I saw your patch. Any enemy of those fuckers is a friend of mine.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I reiterate. Whatever the Aces have done to help these two out while they’ve cared for me, I hope it’s been generous. “We’ll leave this afternoon though and let you get back to normal.”

Lee laughs and pulls his plate closer again. “Nothing’s normal any more, King. You know how it goes: once you’re a part of this life it has a funny way of finding it’s way back around to you, no matter where you go.”

Elena

Another dull crash resounds around the library as something heavy hits a distant wall. I close the book I’m trying to read; the third time re-starting the same paragraph kills the mood for me anyway.

Carlos has been on a hair trigger for the last few days. Yesterday Sully had to disarm him before he shot the groundskeeper for leaving grass clippings amongst the stone path that leads through the gardens. Poor guy was out there on his hands and knees until well after dark, picking the blades out by hand.

I’ve perfected the art of staying on the opposite side of the house from him. I figure if I’m going to be here a while, I may as well learn how to deal with such a volatile spouse. I made my bed, now I’m lying in it.

I’m still confused after leaving King two weeks ago. He said to wait, that we deserve a better future together, but that kiss, his despair . . . he wasn’t hopeful. I spend most mornings in bed with the covers over my head while I wonder if it was all a lie. Perhaps he was giving me hope to try and let me down gently? I don’t know—I can’t figure him out. He’s not the happy, shy guy who stole my heart at a small café anymore. He’s . . . changing. Adapting to his surroundings maybe? Whatever it is, becoming a patched member has set a fire alight in him. It’s as though he has something to prove. But to who?

“There you are.”

I whip my head toward the doorway and release my breath at the sight of Carlos's bodyguard. How could I let myself get lost in my thoughts and be unprepared like that? What if it had been Carlos standing there now, not Sully?
Stupid, Elena. Stupid.

“Everything under control out there?” I ask.

Sully smirks and steps inside the library, pushing the door closed softly behind him. “You know how he is—probably couldn’t get a staple out or something.”

I smile at the visual—it takes a lot to make me actually laugh these days. “What’s up?”

Sully sighs and crosses the room to sit on the arm of the seat opposite mine. His fingers twist one of the cufflinks on his sleeves to the point where I’m convinced he’s about to snap it in half. “I don’t want to reopen old wounds. I mean, you’ve only just come right.”

This is right?
I haven’t been right for a while. I’m not okay; I’m numb. “But?”

“I missed a call from King.”

The book in my lap hits the floor as I scoot forward. “And?”

“I couldn’t answer—I was driving at the time . . . with him.”

“So ring King back.” I wind my hand in circles, indicating he should hurry the hell up and pull his phone out. “Why are you waiting?”

Sully’s dark eyes lift to find mine. “I thought you could do it.”

My heart is as frantic as a hummingbird’s wing. I was so convinced I didn’t want to talk to him again, so angry, and so fed up with being hurt by Carlos for my betrayal that I destroyed the phone King gave me in a fit of rage the day after he left me behind. I feared it would be found and I’d pay the price. I’d regretted it immediately, but the funny thing with having nothing but time is I’d had all I needed to come to terms with my snap decision and volatile temper. I’d made peace with my stupid mistake . . . until now. I’d do anything to get that damn phone back and working.

“Gimme.” I wiggle my fingers at him.

Sully grins and hands over his smartphone.

I stare at the screen and roll my eyes. “It’s locked.”

He takes it back and releases the screen, handing it over with King’s number poised and ready to go . . . at least, I assume it’s King’s. “Blue?”

“Color of his balls, given your situation,” Sully says with a dead-straight face. “Couldn’t have his real name in there now, could I?”

I stare at him a beat before bursting out in laughter. It feels good. “Nice.”

He sits quietly while I stare at the phone, tapping the screen every so often when it dims so it doesn’t go to sleep again.

“Nervous?”

“I shouldn’t be, huh?”

Sully shrugs. “Understandable. Would you like a moment alone?”

The muted tones of Carlos’s shouting filter through the walls. “He’s going to be busy for a while?”

“I’ll go keep watch.” Sully winks as he pushes up to stand. “Just . . . hear King out is all. I don’t know what he was ringing for, but I’m pretty sure it has to do with you,” he says dryly.

I nod and settle back in my chair as he disappears through the door, leaving it unlatched. What do I say? King’s going to be expecting Sully to phone back, not me. What if for some reason he actually
doesn’t
want to talk with me?

With two quick slaps to the chest to get my shit together, I tap the dial icon and wait out the rings on the other end. My knotted stomach is a living thing, trying to crawl out of my throat as I wait on him to answer. The ringing finally cuts out, and the voice I’ve missed more than I care to admit fills the void.

“Hey, man. I hope I didn’t put you in an awkward situation by callin’.”

“It’s me, King,” I whisper.

The line goes quiet for an insanely long time. I pull the phone away from my ear to check he hasn’t hung up and see the timer clicking over as he finally speaks. “Elena?”

“Last time I checked.” I laugh nervously and smack a closed fist on the side of my head for sounding so ridiculous.

“Baby . . .”

“Sully thought maybe you’d like to talk directly to me?”

“God . . . yeah, I . . . I just . . . are you okay?” He rushes the question out as though he finally snaps to his senses.

“As okay as can be expected.” My mood sours. My anger at him for leaving me here fights to take over any elation I feel for speaking with him after so long.

“Elena, I’m so sorry. I should have taken you that day; I should have listened. Fuck it all, I shouldn’t have ignored my gut feelin’. I . . .” He pauses, seemingly trying to catch a breath given how his words have started to run together.

“Why did you call? Has something happened?” His worry is infectious, and I raise a hand to my chest to will my breaths to even out.

“Yeah. Things have blown up here big time. Look, I need to bring you home, and I need you to help me work out how.”

Home.
“When?” My heart races for an entirely different reason to before. This time tomorrow I could be out of here—gone,
free.

“As soon as I can. But, baby?”

“What?”

“I have to do it without the club behind me.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Whether his club approves of us or not doesn’t worry me in the slightest, but I know what he alludes to—we’re outnumbered, underprepared. Carlos has every chance of ruining anything the two of us can achieve on our own.

“Does he know?” King asks quietly. “Has he noticed?”

“No.” I’ve been dressing in loose clothes, getting artistic with scarves, and avoiding Carlos like the plague. “I’ve kept out of his way pretty well these past weeks.” But for how much longer? How long until Carlos isn’t preoccupied with his work and starts paying more attention to me? I can’t be a ghost in this house forever.

I turn my head at the sound of snapping fingers. “Better wrap it up,” Sully says. “Incoming.”

“I have to go, but I’ll ring again, okay?”

“I tried the number I gave you—”

“Long story,” I explain. “I have to go.”

“Elena?”

“Yeah?” My eyes are glued to the door as Sully wiggles his fingers for the phone.

“Love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”
For some reason, even after all of this.
The words fall from my mouth effortlessly, spoken from the heart. Despite all the hurt, the pain, I know his mistakes come from a good place. He’s just trying to do right by everybody, and I still respect him for that at least. I just wish it wasn’t
me
who had to suffer while the masses reaped the reward of his loyalty.

I hang up and toss the phone to Sully, who catches and pockets it. By the time Carlos appears at the door and eyeballs his bodyguard, I have the book open over my crossed legs again. The bulky hardback does a fine job of detracting from my stomach; its size covers the emerging bump with the thickness of the pages.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Carlos barks at Sully.

“Mrs. Redmond was arranging a trip into town tomorrow,” Sully responds with a blank stare.

“Did she fucking ask me if she could go anywhere?” Carlos storms past and slams the door in Sully’s face after he enters the room.

“You need me?” I refrain from giving him a witty greeting, given his current mood.

“I need you to sign this.” He lifts his hand to reveal a slip of paper I hadn’t noticed. “And you’re not going anywhere tomorrow. You need to shop? You order it online. You don’t leave this God damned property, got it?”