Part 3 (1/2)
”Your wife staying to cook me some dinner?” I change the subject, eager to end this conversation for good, so I can go out and speak to Mackenzie.
”f.u.c.k off, find your own wife.” He flips me off, then turns and walks out leaving me on my own. I laugh at the a.s.shole and his protectiveness over Kadence's cooking. The truth is if I had a wife who cooks like Kadence, I'd be the same way. Lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
Taking one last breath to keep myself in check, I stand and follow him out.
Whatever happens from here on out, I gotta keep my cool. The last thing I need is to lose my head, especially over Mackenzie. And the last thing she needs is more f.u.c.ked-up s.h.i.+t in her life.
This is going to be interesting.
Taking a sip of my third coffee the following morning, I force myself not to look at the clock again. It's been less than a minute since I last checked, and it's not moving any faster.
After we had come out of our meet last night, I was disappointed to learn Mackenzie had gone to bed. I was tempted to knock on her door, make sure she had settled in, but Kelly was pretty adamant about not bothering her, promising me she was fine. So I stewed the rest of the night. Spoke to Tiny about the predicament we found ourselves in, then called it a night. It was a waste of time anyway. I tossed and turned all night wondering if Mackenzie slept well, if she was second-guessing coming here, if we would be able to keep her safe. Every f.u.c.king scenario played out, and every one of them ended with me f.u.c.king up with her.
Yep, I'm screwed up beyond all f.u.c.king belief.
”Morning.” Mackenzie's voice breaks me out of my thoughts a few minutes later. Not expecting her company, I jump a little in my chair, my coffee spilling over the side of the mug and burning my hand.
”Morning,” I reply as I wipe my hand on the back of my s.h.i.+rt. She doesn't step forward right away so I encourage her. ”Come in.” She doesn't make eye contact; instead, her hands fold over the front of her and clasps her upper arms. ”You sleep well?” I ask, wanting her to look at me.
”Like a baby. Haven't slept like that for G.o.d knows how long.” As she speaks, the tension leaves her body slowly and she finally looks up, giving me her eyes. She doesn't make any further attempt to talk, so I take a minute to look her over. Besides the cut on her lip and the small bruise on her cheek, she shows no other sign of injury. Her dark hair is pulled back in a short ponytail. I want to ask her why she cut it all off, but I don't. It's not like she owes me an explanation. She's wearing the same jeans and s.h.i.+rt she had on last night and I make a mental note to ask one of the girls to sort out new clothes for her today.
”You want some breakfast?” I stand and point to a chair, hoping she takes the direction so I can feed her. Like I thought yesterday, the woman hasn't been eating. I'm only going by what I remember the night I met her, versus what I see now. She looks skinny, too skinny, where before she was definitely more than just skin and bones.
Nothing a few weeks of her eating enough food can't fix, though.
”Ahh, I'm pretty hungry, but please, I can fix it.”
”You sit. I'll cook,” I order and watch her recoil at my tone and command. Shaking my head at my stupidity, I step forward and try to rea.s.sure her. ”I have it sorted today. Maybe you can cook tomorrow.” It almost feels strange compromising on something like this with a woman. I mean I'm not a complete dictating a.s.shole, but there are certain tastes I have.
A willing and submissive woman is one of them.
Something Mackenzie is not, which only makes the line already drawn even more vivid.
”Sure, we can take turns,” she agrees quickly and takes a seat next to where I was sitting.
”Coffee?” I hide my pleasure at her agreeing and reach for a cup.
”Yes, please,” she answers, and I fill the cup with the black liquid I brewed half an hour ago. I walk back to the table and hand her the cup. She doesn't bother with cream or sugar. Instead, she takes a sip and rests back in her chair. Before I get caught watching her, I set about making eggs for the both of us. I'm sure some of my brothers will wake up to the smell of breakfast and probably give me a hard time for not cooking enough, but I don't give a f.u.c.k right now.
”Kelly said she gave you a tour of the place last night?” I start an easy conversation hoping to relax her a little more.
”Yeah, the place is huge. I might get lost, but I think I have it.” I nod, cracking two eggs at a time into the pan. ”And sorry I didn't speak to you again, but I was just so exhausted.”
”No problem, but we will need to have a chat with Nix today.”
”Oh, did you decide something in your meeting?” I hear the panic in her voice before I turn back and watch it slide over her face.
”No, we wanted to talk to you about pressing charges against Chad.” I set her at ease, but it only serves to push her further.
”No, Beau. It's not worth the ha.s.sle, with his connections.” Her head moves from side to side. I'm not sure if she's trying to convince me or herself.
”It will help. Having him caught up in the courts can give us more time.”
”No cops, Beau.” Her hands fist in front of her, turning her knuckles almost white.
”Kenzie, you have to trust who we bring in on this.”
”No cops,” she repeats, this time with more force. I hold her stare for a beat trying to get a read on her.
”Okay, darlin'. No cops.” She holds her breath for another few seconds before letting it out in a loud exhale.
”Thank you, Beau.” I nod, then turn back to the eggs. I shouldn't be surprised by her distrust of cops considering Mayor Morre's connections. I suspect he has a lot of men in the force on his books.
”So do you live here full time?” she asks, her tone lighter than only moments earlier. All signs of her apprehension are gone.
”I have my own place, but I stay here from time to time,” I answer, knowing from here on out I'll be staying at the compound.
”You stayed last night?”
”I did, and will continue until you're settled.” I reach up to the cupboard where the plates are kept and pull down two. She doesn't say anything at my admission, so I don't push it. Instead, I plate up the eggs and place some bread in the toaster. Mackenzie stays quiet while I finish making our breakfast. The silence isn't awkward, more calming and I find myself not wanting to break it.
After a few minutes pa.s.s, I quietly place her breakfast in front of her and wait for her to come out of her head.
”Oh, this looks great.” She comes back to the moment and looks over at me.
”Just eggs and toast, darlin',” I play it down, not wanting her to make a big deal about it.
”I've barely eaten in three days. It's not just eggs and toast,” she states with a shrug, unfazed by her revelation and how it might affect anyone knowing exactly what she's been through. She owns it and it practically has me coming apart.
”Well, don't delay. Dig in.” I force myself not to react. Her fingers reach for the fork I placed beside her plate and I watch as she picks it up. I don't want to seem like a f.u.c.king creeper, but I just want to make sure she's eating. Before she can put my mind at ease, she returns the fork and reaches for me instead. Her hand lands on my arm, her touch soft and unsure.
”Thank you, Beau. Not just for the breakfast, but for everything you've done for me. I'll never truly be able to repay you.” I nod once, not looking for grat.i.tude. Any decent person would do the same. It's what I tell myself, but I know it's more than that. The emotion she awakens in me causes my words to fail. But it doesn't matter, not right now. Words are not needed in this moment. I look at her, from her eyes to her hand still resting on my skin and then back up again. Neither one of us speaks or attempts to break the connection. It's like time only exists outside of us.
You can't have moments like this with her, I remind myself, pulling myself out of it.
Clearing my throat, I turn my head. ”Eat.” The demand comes out harsh, rough, even a little angry. She doesn't act as sh.e.l.l-shocked as she did at my last command, but she retreats nonetheless, and for reasons I can't figure out, I fight the urge to promise her I'll never use the tone with her again. Instead, I take a seat and pick up my own fork, and satisfied the woman across from me is at least eating, I take my first mouthful.
Who knew making sure she finished her breakfast could have me so twisted.
Five.
Mackenzie.
”You have to trust us, Mackenzie,” Beau tries to rea.s.sure me later that day. We're sitting on one of the sofas in the living area of the clubhouse. Most of the members are outside setting up for a club BBQ, while Nix and Beau sit with me to discuss what's happened over the last twenty-four hours.