Chapter 18

Elena

I can do this. I can so do this.

            My heart is racing, adrenaline is kicking in. Mike is giving me an adrenaline rush – I need to keep that going.

            Not like it’s hard. Just being in the same vicinity as him, is making my body buzz even more than what the alcohol was capable of.

            It’s a double whammy for my poor nerves. The drinks give me confidence and slow movements, but Michael is giving me pumping adrenaline. My body has no idea what to do.

            “I don’t want to go into that house.” I point aggressively to my old home next to his house.

            He gently grabs me by the elbow in his driveway. “We’re going into mine. Come on.”

            Planting my sluggish feet into the ground I tell him, “No. We can talk out here.” I’m worried that if I go into that house that something will happen between us. Something my body is ready for, but my heart… not so much.

            “Just come inside and I’ll get you some water.” His strong arm begins to wrap around my waist causing my skin to react to the warm touch by sprouting goosebumps.

            Curse my responsiveness to his touch.

            I reluctantly follow him inside since water actually does sound good. Alcohol can make you thirsty; I wonder if that’s why people end up drinking so much…

            Or maybe it’s just me.

            “Sit,” he tells me. So, I do and try not to think about what happened the last time I was here.

            And fail.

            The way he touched me that night. How gentle he was; he really took care of me and made sure I was comfortable the entire time.

            “I don’t want to be here,” I strain while staring at the painting where I know the window is hiding behind.

            “Tough. We need to talk, and this is as safe as any other place.” Michael sits on the coffee table in front of me then hands me a bottled water.

            “Carol’s place would be safer,” I mumble between us. He gives me a look and nudges the bottle closer to me.

            I just stare at it. He’s still trying to take care of me from behind the scenes by making one of his minions follow me around and now he’s hydrating me. “Did you stage the drive-by shooting?” I ask from left field.

            He retracts his hand, opens the bottle with a c***k of the cap then gives it back to me. “Yes.” He holds my gaze.

            My neck stretches to the side as if to make room in my throat for the next question. “I saw the pictures of the scene. Did you…uhm…did you shoot him again? There was a hole in the back window…” I wince.

            Taking a deep breath, I brush his fingers with mine as I take the bottle. Electricity surges within my veins, my gaze hits the floor in trying to fight the attraction I still have for him.

            Michael exhales as he tells me, “I was supposed to pepper him and the car.” He pauses and I look up at him. “But I couldn’t do it.”

            Pepper him? Randall is sick.

“Thank you,” I whisper. After letting the cool liquid sober me for a moment, I ask, “What did you do with the money?” I blink slowly; do I even really want to know?

            I watch as his jaw clenches. His eyes soften as he opens and closes his mouth.

            “Just tell me,” I say dropping my eyes to my lap. I can take it.

            “About two-grand went towards fixing up your car. The rest is in savings.”

            I didn’t expect that; I meet his eyes - they are so green. “My car?”

            He nods and rubs his hands on his thighs. “Your dad bought the car; I fixed it up - made it safe for you.”

            A breath leaves me as I feel my orbs widen with surprise. “What are you saving for, Michael?”

            “It’s not my savings.” I take a sip of the water.  “It’s yours.” I nearly spit out the water but choke on it instead.

            “What?” I cough.

            His gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “The fifty-eight thousand dollars is in a savings account under your name at the local credit union.”

            Wow, that’s a lot of money. “Why?” I ask ask, dumbfounded.

            He shrugs a shoulder. “It didn’t feel right keeping it.”

            My heart mends a little closer together, but I try to keep it from doing so with the knowledge that I trust too easily, forgiveness leads to trusting again. “So how did you fix up the houses? Your club?”

            “My own money.”

            A beat passes. “I know you’re twenty-five.”

            “I’m still twenty-four for a few weeks.”

            “You’re practically twenty-five.”

            “…Fine.” He nods his head in agreement.

            “Were you ever going to tell me?”

            “When all of this blew over, I was planning on telling you everything. I swear it.” There was one other time where I saw this exact same serious and vulnerable expression. It was when he told me about how he grew up, the beatings, the club, how he’s never told anyone he loved them – not even his mother.

            I can’t imagine any of that being a lie… maybe he would have really told me, the look on his face says he would.

            In the moment of processing, I gather my lips to the side. There are so many thoughts. One side of my brain wants to ask more questions, the other side of my brain wants to rip his clothes off.

            Decisions, decisions.

            Cocktails make me feel so many different things. Frisky being one of them.

            Dually noted.

            “Elena, I am so sorry. I know you must hate me, but I will never stop asking for forgiveness. I never wanted to hurt you and I sure as hell never meant for your father to –“ he cuts himself off. “If there’s anything else you would like to know, I’ll tell you the truth.”

            I take another sip of the water, suddenly wishing it was something stronger. “Was it all worth it? The lies, deception… using my feelings for you against me. Was it worth it?”

            Michael sighs, then leans back a little on the coffee table and drops his eyes to the floor before looking at me again. A tick in his jaw later he says, “I have never felt this way about anyone before. I have never had someone so deep under my skin that a machete wouldn’t even cut down to it. You are worth everything to me, Kitten.” I suck in a breath at his pet name for me. Curse my sights for focusing on that mouth of his. “I knew that when you would find out you would run from me, push me away. Even then, I knew deep down that no matter how far away you’d run or how hard you’d push back – I never had the intention of letting you go.”

            He pauses to scoot closer to me then reaches out to caress the bracelet on my wrist. The bracelet he gave me; I didn’t have the heart to actually throw it away... “If I knew that you really hated me with all of your being and you truly didn’t want anything to do with me ever again, I would leave you, let you live your life. I promise you that. But I know, Elena.” My heart is beating so loud in my ears, I have to really concentrate on what he’s saying. “I know that you’re still in love with me even though you keep fighting it. I can see it in your eyes.” The rough palm of his hand reaches for my cheek. Oh, the feeling of his touch on my bare skin – I have missed it so much. Against my better judgement, I lean into his hand. “See? With the way you are responding to me, I know you still feel the same… and that makes it worth it.”

            I must have leaned in towards him. We are a breath away from each other. He smells like pine, spice, and everything nice. And wrong. Dangerous and safe. My mind is all over the place. I can’t think straight when caught in the dense fog of Michael Gilbert. So, I do what my body wants. As I lean further forward, his eyes darken while my mind is screaming for me stop and run away - I kiss him instead.

            He kisses me back. It’s hungry, heated, and primal. My hands dive into the man’s soft hair and his find my waist to hoist me up from the couch. As if on cue, my legs wrap around his hips, his hands hug my bottom, so I cling to him like a koala bear. He tastes like bourbon with a hint of mint. Those lips feel soft, but the pressure is rough like he’s been starving for me.

            Teeth nibble on my bottom lip and I moan against his mouth. I’m not sure when it happened, but I’m on my back with the feeling of a soft cloud beneath me. With my eyes closed, I know I’m on his bed – I dare not open my eyes because the room is spinning and I’m feeling way too hot.

            Mike breaks the kiss to leave a trail of kisses and nibbles down my neck to my chest. Sounds escape through my lips as his hands travel against the bare skin of my legs. He pulls away so I slowly open my eyes to see why he’s leaving me.

            “We should stop,” he says. A part of me rejoices and begs to run away, the other part is suddenly pissed off.

            “Why?” I ask confused. At him… at myself.

            “Sweetheart, you are drunk. You’re burning up. You need more water.” Before I can respond, he leaves me on his bed with my dress up to my waist. I sit up on the side of his bed and take in my reflection from the floor to ceiling mirror.

            I’m flushed. My hair is a mess, my lipstick is smeared, and the makeup around my eyes are giving me a sad raccoon look.

            No wonder he stopped.

            Michael returns to the room and hands out another bottled water for me to take. I do. As I take a couple sips from the water, he walks to the other side of the room to pull out a shirt and pair of sweatpants.

            The feeling of déjà vu hits me. “Here, you can wear these to bed if you’d like.”

            “You don’t want to have s*x with me? Was I really that bad?” Where did those questions come from? Drunk Elena is very direct, blunt, and brave.

            I kinda like her.

            “What?” he gasps then kneels at my feet. His hands grab my waist as he looks at me. “Darlin’, I want to so badly take you again, but you are drunk. Way too drunk. You need to sleep. It would be wrong for me to make love to you when you’re like this.”

            A couple of beats go by, I set my water on the nightstand then put my hands on both of his shoulders and look him square in the eyes.

            “Michael.” I’m feeling the adrenaline come back. This is good. I need this – to feel something other than loss, hate, anger, and confusion. I want to feel something… exceptional. “Don’t make love to me then… f**k me instead.”

**Thank you for reading! So sorry it took so long to upload this chapter. I'm still working on Chapter 19, hopefully that will be up tomorrow and I if the stars align just right, I can upload chapter 20 on Sunday night. This week just got away from me. Where did all the time go?**