a sorrow I hadn’t seen in her eyes since the moment she left me after Acid’s death.
“Probably not,” she finally whispered.
Her words pierced my black heart with agony. For a few seconds I couldn’t breathe. It was like my heart stopped beating and my organs seized all at once with a burst of pain that robbed my body of oxygen or strength. Shattered. That’s what I was.
All that was left was a broken and empty ache. Biting my lip so hard I tasted blood, I resisted the urge to roar, scream, and shout my loss to the entire fuckin’ world.
My chest rose and fell quickly. I struggled to catch my breath until my gaze landed on the devastated expression on Trish’s face. I’d lost a child before I ever knew he existed. She’d lost something worse. My Trish lost a baby she’d known about and loved and then had him cruelly yanked away. Murdered. Stolen from her womb.
If I ever did anything in my life after this moment, I would make that motherfucker Moby pay for what he did. He would suffer long before I ever gave up his soul to be reaped. He’d never find peace. Never be able to gain reprieve. I’d hand him over for a special kind of punishment reserved for the worst of the worst. The blackest of souls. My hands slowly closed and formed fists as I felt my Reaper rise within. Fury trembled my body as I attempted to gain control over the rage that threatened to burst free.
Trish needed me. I’d failed her before, but I wouldn’t now.
“Why would you want me to believe a lie? To hate you for something that wasn’t your fault? Or worse, never know the truth at all?”
“It was easier.”
Easier than what? My chest ached with the thought of what she went through alone the entire time and I should have been by her side. I was angry at myself for thinking the worst of her when I should have known that Trish would never do that to us. I should have known she was broken. I saw her aura was changed. I knew something had happened to her and now I realized Moby had been in her life and tormenting her for a long time while I knew nothing about it.
Pain reflected in her gaze as I searched those blue pools for something more than regret, loss, and desperation. I knew pain. Hell, I’d lived and inflicted it upon others. As a Royal Bastard, I knew a hard and unforgiving life. As the president of the club, I was nothing but dark secrets, carnage, vengeance, and broken promises.
I failed Trish and that fuckin’ gutted me almost as much as the knowledge that the one beautiful thing in this world I got right had been cruelly yanked away by my choice to become a biker. I lost a piece of myself before I ever truly had a chance to know what it would be like to hear Trish tell me I was going to be a father.
Anger simmered under the surface and I swore I would make this right between me and Trish, for my unborn kid, and because I wasn’t about to let the Scorpions take anything else away from me. Life didn’t hold a lot of beauty, not when your soul was sold to the devil. There were few things that I genuinely loved and cared about but my Royal Bastards brothers and the woman on the floor at my side –– they were fucking everything.
“Why was it easier?” I tried to gentle my voice and prevent growling every other word as I’d done for the last couple of minutes.
“Because I’m scared, Grim. I’m terrified of what intimacy and closeness means with you and that devil thing inside you. I don’t know,” she faltered, sighing softly, “I’m not sure how to make this work between us.”
Fuck. I never wanted her to be afraid of me. Since the moment that my Reaper showed his true nature, she’d kept a part of herself hidden away. Now I knew why.
“Baby, it’s still me.” She didn’t appear convinced. “Do you love me?” I asked, changing tactics.
“What?”
“Do you love me, Trish?”
Her chin wobbled as her eyes threatened to spill more tears. “Since the moment you walked into the Blacktop.”
My lips quirked up a little on the sides and I ignored the bite and sting of pain that originated from the back of my head and the bump I could feel