Chapter Forty-One

The sky delivered tonight before the sun fully set. Endless stars litter the vast expanse above from where we lay on my hood, where Cecelia rests, cradled in my hold. My heart beats steadily as she gazes up with me, music filtering from the cabin of my Camaro. Crickets chirp around us in offering with the rest of the budding night noise as contentment blankets me in a way I never thought possible.

“Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want, you know, for the future?”

Too much to explain, but she means personally, and that answer is simple, despite the inkling she’s given me of something different. I have no way of navigating that inkling in the present, so I stick to what I do know. I’ve never been able to picture a personal future beyond the minute I exist in.

“It’s not a stupid question,” she prompts with mild scold. I opened this can of worms minutes ago by telling her what I remember about Maman and Papa, giving her pieces of the truth while skirting our parents’ merged pasts and how they factor into the puzzle.

This question I can answer truthfully. “Nothing.”

She audibly sighs. “I guess it’s a good thing you won’t be disappointed.”

I can’t help my chuckle. “Am I supposed to ask what you want now?”

“Not if you don’t care.”

I do, but I can’t offer it to you.

I tuck my fingers into her silky hair before voicing more truth.“I’m not future centered. Plans don’t make the man.”

Because I tried that tactic and was blocked at every turn.

“I know, I know. Live in the now. Take each day as it comes,” she recites, “I get it, but isn’t there something you want?”

I’m holding it.

“No,” I jest, “but there’s obviously something you do.”

She stays silent for long beats, stiffening slightly in the crook of my arm. We’ve been copacetic since I accepted my fall, but something tells me what’s stirring inside her now has nothing to do with my refusal to give her promises.

Knowing she’s getting lost in her thoughts, I gently nudge her. “What?”

“I don’t like putting a voice to my fears. Because then, I can only expect them to come true.”

“That’s bleak,” I mutter.

“It’s better than not wanting anything in the future,” she counters dryly.

“I already know what happens,” I whisper.

“What do you mean? You can predict the future?”

In a fleeting second, I conjure the blueprint I tucked away for when the time is right. “I can predict mine because I make shit happen.”

“What is it?” she questions.

“Whatever I decide.”

When I’m finally unshackled.

“Just for once, can you give me a straight answer?”

I can’t help the twist of my lips as I run my eyes down the length of her. She floated down Roman’s porch steps hours ago, looking every bit my realized fantasy for our date.

Ourfirst, and mine. A secret I keep to myself. But a secret I share with her. Only her. Her greeting as she entered the Camaro was soft-spoken, “I missed you.” A genuinely whispered sentiment I’ve come to rely on—which keeps me aching to return it.

I did everything I could to make it memorable. I denied the easy affections I give her behind closed doors because right now, I’m no longer in daily communication with Tobias—I think it’s because he may be onto us. He didn’t answer my last text after I ghosted him briefly when the weather permitted. But if he has caught wind of our deception, we may very well be under a watch we haven’t detected yet, which has me up in arms.

The familiar, ill feeling starts to sink in, and I banish it by craning my neck enough to peer over at her. Spotting a smear of black beneath her eyes, my gaze slowly drops to her swollen, thoroughly kissed lips, focus drifting between the faint marks on her neck and chest. Evidence of when I ravaged her the second we pulled up. Twice. Fixating on the freshly fucked look of her, I revel in the slight imperfections I created and how they got there. “What was the question?”

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“No.” A white lie. But not for any conclusion she may draw.

“Why?”

“Because he can give you things I can’t,” I admit honestly.

Sean can freely express himself to her, whereas I’m limited. His ink is etched skin deep, and though his promise is genuine, it’s ultimately up to him to keep stock in it. Even if the words are there for me, too—along with the need to claim her in totality—both of us have withheld staking that claim and putting a voice to it with so much deceit between us. Until she knows the whole truth, I can’t utter them—where Sean might. Because underneath my ink is a blood tie made with my brother, which binds me from being anything more than what I am to her now. That’s where any jealousy I harbor lies.

“I’m not complaining,” she whispers, “please don’t think that, but why can’t you?”

“Because I’m not like him. I’m a lot simpler.” Even now, it remains the truth.

“I don’t believe that,” she insists.

“It’s true.” The guilt gnaws deeper, eating away at my resolve. At this point, I’m struggling daily to count the number of lies I keep to hold my secret to the truths I can reveal, and it’s fucking crippling.

Sensing my discomfort, she traces my jaw in a caress that has me aching while voicing her declaration. “You are anything but simple.”

“My needs are. I don’t want things like other people.” Even if I could imagine a future for myself, I don’t see anything resembling the type of personal future so many others strive for.

“Why? Why train yourself for such simplicity when you are worth so much . . .” My chest caves in with the look she gifts me, the one that makes me feel invincible. “You are so much more than what you let people see—than what you give yourself credit for.”

“That’s the point.”

She holds my eyes hostage with her next question. “Why won’t you let people know you?”

You’re my people. “You know me.”

Her eyes soften to the point I almost look away, the deceit tearing at my insides as she speaks again, nailing me with right-hook sentiment. “And I’m lucky.”

Jesus Christ.

“You are anything but.”

“Please just stop that . . .” she cuts herself off before digging in. “You don’t have low self-esteem. What’s with this glib shit?”

Because if I voice my own fears, I know they’ll manifest by my own fucking doing, and I’ll lose you.

I swallow. “There is so much you don’t know.”

“I want to, Dom. I want to know all sides of you.”

“You don’t, Cecelia, you think you do, but you don’t.” The vow I made strengthens within me that she will never glimpse the dark I do embrace.

“You think I won’t care for you like I do?”

“Things will change.” It’s the absolute truth, and even as knowledgeable as she is thanks to Sean—and as strong as she’s becoming—the flipside of our reality and the life I live under her radar is sometimes too much for me to handle.

“I don’t care,” she declares, palming my chest. “I want in. Please let me in.”

I can barely contain the sting building in my throat as I remain mute. After several beats of my forced silence, she relents. “Okay, okay.” She presses a kiss to my jaw. “It’s hard being with you. It’s just hard sometimes.”

The burn that statement causes has me losing my grip briefly as I let her in on the most important truth, a truth she made fact. “You are in.”

She looks back up at me, and I see it so clearly.

She loves me.

Words seem meaningless compared to what thrums between us, but I see those damning words forming as we gaze at each other, my pulse spiking as I soak in her expression and see it so distinctly, so intently, it’s unmistakable.

She loves me.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Covering her mouth with my palm, I stop her attempt to voice them because if she utters a single one, I might not ever come back from it. “Don’t waste good words on me.”

She loves me.

Knowing is enough. But I refuse to recite those words unless I can act on them. As of right now, I can’t.

Her eyes search as I keep my palm in place to silence her and think of any way to offset the sting I know I’m causing. “It’s okay, Cecelia. I’m as close to happy as a man like me deserves.”

It’s all I have left for her until I sort through the debris collecting daily between us.

Chest alight with the awareness of her unspoken declaration, we stare back up at the sky, which feels like it’s peering back at us, laying witness. Getting lost, my mind wanders as I engage them, questioning whether the cosmos really has anything to do with our life path—if destiny and fate truly play a role in anyone’s life. Tobias forged our path, and I latched on. I wonder briefly if he saw me with him when he did or if it was his destiny alone that he invited us to be a part of. If that’s the case, it’s always felt right. Felt like mine, just as the woman beside me does. Wordlessly, I ask the visible galaxy comprised of sentinel stars what the future holds for us while knowing I’m stuck in limbo for an answer.

Which is fucking torment.

Tobias’s return is imminent. I can feel it with every fiber of my being. With that coming, our future remains unknown. Even so, I feel the steady beat of my heart driving me forward to face whatever is waiting on the other side of this. What Cecelia and I have is worth standing ground for, but coming clean means exposing Tobias completely and endangering the club—I could never do that. Our purpose is about so much more than our selfish needs and we have livelihoods that rely on the success of our club and lives literally dependent on it. I can’t throw that away or be that selfish.

Therein lies the crux of falling, giving merit to Tobias’s consistent warning of entanglements and this mindfuck of a situation with no viable solution I can conceive of. In this case, the truth will not fucking set us free, but damn us.

“Have you hurt people?” Cecelia asks, bringing me back to the hood, to her.

I answer with silence. That truth and those details are something I might eventually confess with time—if her place is claimed and accepted amongst us. If, somehow, she can forgive me for the lies.

“Do I make you happy? Even a little?”

Stupid question. But I answer it with a slow, deep kiss, pressing that truth into her until she’s thoroughly convinced.

Gathering her from my hood just after, I hoist her to wrap around me, carrying her toward the passenger door, ambling slightly until her breath catches.

Fuck.

“Dom, did you just sway your hips?”

Busted.

Though shrouded in the dark, I see her eyes bugging wide along with her smile. “O.M.G. Did you just dance a little with me?!”

Sighing, I press my forehead to hers. “Cecelia?”

“Yes?” She beams back at me.

“When you call me out for this shit, it stops. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

“That you’re a closet romantic and love it,” she drops drastically. “Yes. I figured that out ages ago. You’re really not that smart nor smooth, King.”

Opening the passenger door, I dump her unceremoniously into the seat. “Date over.”

Her laughter trails me even as I slam the door on it, hiding my grin until I’m in the driver’s seat.

Sean summons us by text just as I hit the main road. Shifting, I turn in that direction catching a flash of Cecelia’s hair in my peripheral. Ripping my eyes from the vacant street, I glance over to see her head resting against the seat, head tilted toward the breeze, gaze trained up at the sky.

This is happy.

Sensing my stare, she looks back at me, a smile cracking her face, and with it, she steals the last unchartered piece of me.

As that elation scores through me, it’s muted slightly by the anxiety that’s been trickling in for the last few days. I’ll make it a point to get ahold of Tobias soon and talk to Sean about how in the fuck we’re going to sort this. I just have to believe my brother will hear me when the time comes.

When we pull up to the garage, Cecelia spots Sean’s car and hops out, tossing a look my way as I trail her, noticing his is the only one in the parking lot. I assumed his text was a summons to join whatever festivities were going on. Knowing we’re alone, Tyler absent, and wondering why he summoned us both, every step becomes heavier as I follow her into the bay. Striding in, my heart fucking stops along with my footing when Sean locks eyes with me while Cecelia races toward him.

He knows.

Dread filters through me as Sean forces a smile for Cecelia while blood pulses in my ears.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Every bit of the contentment I just found gets ripped away as my heart thrashes with the knowledge—he knows. Sean and Cecelia’s conversations partially muted with the erratic beat.

“. . . up to no good?”

Whoosh. Whoosh.

“Always.”

Whoosh. Whoosh.

“. . . my girl.”

Those words crush me as she inquires about everyone else’s whereabouts, and Sean tells her he’s taking her home so we can talk. Her confused eyes dart between us as my insides start to rattle, feeling like they’re about to break apart.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Cecelia reads us both easily and puts a voice to it. “Are you safe?”

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

“. . . is an illusion, baby.”

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

“. . . for once, can you lie to me?”

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

“. . . hate the ground you walk on.”

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh

Sean’s eyes find mine once again.

“When?” When did you find out?

“Now.” When I texted you.

“Fuck,” I sweep Cecelia from head to foot as anxiety takes hold. “Get her home.”

Sean moves to usher Cecelia away, and she refuses him, rushing toward me instead as our cloud starts to disburse. When she reaches me, I sweep her into a kiss, feeling the break start inside as she surrounds me. Clinging to every second, desperation laces the last press of my lips. “You gotta go, baby.”

I keep her gaze for as long as I can, burning it in, knowing the next time our eyes meet, that look may only be glimpsed in memory.

Sean whisks her away, and it’s the brush of our fingers as she literally slips through my hands, and our cover disappears that does me in. As she vanishes from my peripheral, the loss consumes me, and I boil over.

Destroying everything in my path, the crashes fuel me as I fucking rage against the laughing heavens who duped me into thinking this reality was possible. A reality where I got to keep the girl and everything else I hold close. But I can’t exactly blame them because I called on them too late. I can’t blame fate or the fortune that’s never been on my side, or anyone . . . but myself. I forged my own future from the minute I was capable and chose this fate. It was only inevitable that after ignoring every crackle of warning in the sky and every rumbling step that followed outside my window, the heartless giant I helped to create would finally appear.