Unbreakable: Unrequited Part Two (Fallen Aces MC Book 2) Read online

  “Of course you can,” Hooch replies, simultaneously kicking me in the leg with the side of his boot. “We’ll get you comfortable, give you some privacy to feed the little guy.” He reaches out and takes her baby bag from her.

  “Thank you.” Elena passes her gaze over me before she follows Hooch indoors.

  My chest rises and falls rapidly; the panic grows every step she takes away from me again. I can’t let her go. She has to stay. This is it. She’s not leaving again.

  Joker returns to his post at the gate, and I hustle to catch up with Elena and Hooch. What do I say to keep her here? Has she come back to patch things up, to try again? Please tell me she changed her mind.

  The step she takes sideways to avoid brushing against me as Hooch clears the sofas in the common room and sets her bag down says no. I drag in her scent, light and summery, and jam my hands in my pockets. I want to hold her, never let her go, but I don’t want to scare her away. I can’t risk doing a single thing that’ll make her run again.

  “You can stay while I do this,” she says, settling down on one of the seats and positioning Dante to feed him.

  I drop my ass to the arm of the sofa opposite and watch with nothing short of amazement as she latches our boy on and fills his belly with everything he’ll need to grow up healthy and strong. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She’s so relaxed, so calm. Everything I’m not.

  “How old is he?”

  “Twenty-nine days.”

  “Wow.” I scrub a hand over my beard and suck in a deep breath. “I wish I’d known. I would have been there.”

  “I didn’t try to contact anyone because I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to come.”

  Ouch. “Why did you leave without trying to talk things through, baby?”

  She sighs and dips her chin, closing her eyes briefly before she opens them on our creation. “He’s just like you in so many ways, you know.”

  I shift across and kneel beside them to get a closer look at the little guy. “How?”

  “So happy all the time.” Elena’s eyes glisten. “Sleeps all night, and hardly ever fusses. He’s so perfect, and more than I deserve.”

  Her leg stiffens under my touch, but she doesn’t try to move my hand from her knee. “I’m sorry I did things the wrong way, baby. I’m sorry I let you down.”

  “No.” She reaches out a hand and places it gently along my jaw. “King, no. You did what you thought was right, and I guess it was for you, but it wasn’t for us.”

  “How do I make things like they were? How do I make things right again? Tell me, woman, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anythin’ you say.”

  “That’s the problem: it was never right, King. You can’t fix something that was broken to begin with.” She lets out a heavy breath and adjusts Dante’s head on her arm. “We had so much working against us; don’t you ever wonder if perhaps we should have heeded the signs?”

  “No.” Fuck the signs. All I know is that when I managed to be with her I couldn’t think of any place or time I would have rather been. Everything is her. It always was, and always will be. “Don’t leave again.”

  “Your P.I. found me a couple of months ago.”

  I rock back on my heels, irritated that the bastard never told me.

  “He asked if he could reveal that he’d found me, and I said no.”

  What the fuck was I paying this guy for?

  “He didn’t tell you?” she asks, reading the expression on my face.

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “I wondered why he didn’t charge me last month—fucker was guilty.”

  She chuckles, but her smile fades quickly. The room falls quiet around us once again, just the subtle slurps and squeaks of Dante between us.

  “I realized though,” she explains, “that I had been wrong to say no. I thought when he asked, that life was good without Carlos knowing where I was, but then it dawned on me that although it might have been safe and pedestrian, it wasn’t good.” She twitches a small smile. “I miss you.”

  I try to speak, yet her free hand covers my lips.

  “Just listen, please.”

  I nod, coaxing her to continue.

  “I missed you, and so I came to see if it was me or Dante you wanted to find.”

  “Both of you, baby.”

  “Being here, though . . .” She looks around the clubhouse, taking in the details. “It’s overwhelming. I feel exactly like I did before I left. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this life.”

  “You don’t have to step foot in here ever again if you don’t want,” I reassure her. “You can live off site and I can come home to you every night.”

  She shakes her head, a depth of sadness in her eyes that can’t be washed away with a few kind words. Her mind is made up; I know it. “I can’t be your mistress.”

  She frowns, as do I. “Why the fuck would you be my mistress? Are you worried about the property girls that hang around?”

  She smiles sadly, rubbing my arm. “I mean, I couldn’t come second to this place. Yes, you’d come home to us, but where would you be most of the time?”

  Damn it—she’s right. “Here.”

  “I can’t live a life of waiting for you to come back to us, of being expected to be grateful for the few times I got to see you.”

  “Isn’t something better than nothing?” I ask. If all I could have were a minutes of Elena each day for the rest of my life, fuck, I’d take it in a heartbeat.

  “It is,” she agrees, “but everything Carlos put me through . . . I can’t take much more worry in my life. I couldn’t sit and wonder if the things you do, the things you can’t talk to me about, put you in danger. I couldn’t handle watching you walk out the door every day, wondering if this was the time you never came back.”

  “We can work through this,” I whisper, desperation clear as day in my voice. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

  “We tried, King. We tried to make ‘us’ work and your club got in the way then. Why would it be any different now?”

  “You’re askin’ me to do something I just can’t do.”

  “I’m not asking you to do a thing but let me go and live your life uncomplicated.”

  My gaze drops to Dante, so sleepy and undisturbed by all of this. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but we’ve got the biggest complication right here.”

  “Let me raise him until he’s old enough to make the decision for himself. It’s safest for him—for us. It’s best.”

  “Why? How the fuck can you taking my son away again be ‘best?’” I push up and walk to stand behind the sofa opposite her, resting my hands on the back to avoid punching something. “You’re denyin’ me my right to be a father.”

  My anger is reflected in her ten-fold as she loses her patience with the conversation. “You denied me my right to raise a child in a happy, loving family the minute you fucking left me to suffer for the sake of your goddamn club,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea how many times I thought I’d die at Carlos’s hand? Do you have any idea, King, how fucking hard it was to hide this from him for as long as I did?” She shakes her head, her fingers gently stroking the side of Dante’s face despite the fire raging in her eyes. “I lost count of how many times you mended my heart, just to break it all over again. It hurt that much more every time you did it, and I died a little more every time I let you.”

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “But you did. Again and again. All I wanted was somebody to fucking hold me and tell me everything would be okay, but you left me alone. You were the one who taught me that the only person I can rely on is myself.” She hesitates, shaking her head as she catches her breath. “Yes, when I’m with you it’s great, it’s fucking amazing, but it’s all the times I’m not, all the hurt at being rejected for something that’s more important to you than me that I can’t handle.” She cries, something I’ve barely seen her do. “I’m sick of being sad, King. Don’t you get it? I want to be happy, not worr
ied, not sad, not angry . . . happy!”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say? I don’t have a problem with balancing the club and you, only you do.” I slam my fist into the sofa cushion, frustrated that she makes life so fucking complicated. I want her—that’s the one constant in all of this. Fuck what else comes with it; fuck what I have to do to get that. Why can’t she be the same way? She says that she doesn’t feel enough because I can’t give her all my time, but I don’t feel enough because she’s not grateful for some of my time. “Why is it all or nothin’ with you?” I holler. “If you really loved and missed me that much, woman, whatever you got would be enough.”

  “I’m sorry,” she wails. “It’s just how I feel—I don’t know why, but it is. I can’t let you put us second. But I also know you can’t put us first. That’s why I’m asking you to leave us alone, stop trying to find us, and let me put Dante first. Let me put our son’s happiness before ours. Please, King.”

  I know what would be the right thing to say here: “you aren’t second.” But I know that’s a bald-faced lie. They still are. If I had to divvy up my time between them and the club, I know who’d have the greater percentage. I’m working for presidency, and after the sacrifice and effort I’ve put into aligning myself to be able to finally do right by this club, I’m not giving that up easily. My soul tears in two as I let my gaze roam over her, seated opposite me. She’s as beautiful as ever, even more so as a mother. I think about where I’ll be when I’m too old for this shit, and it’s always her there beside me. Doesn’t matter what I do. Doesn’t matter what anyone tells me. Every time I close my eyes at night and wonder where this road will lead me, she’s always standing at the end, waiting.

  And there lies my problem—those are nothing but empty fantasies I create at night to help me sleep. Nothing but lies I tell myself to give reason to the following day. Without the hope, the chance that those dreams could one day be true, what’s the point to all of this?

  What do I get out of it?

  Nothing.

  “If you need time, I’ll give you time, but I can’t cut ties completely.” My breath whooshes out my nose as I lean on the back of the sofa, my fingers digging into the frame. “You need to promise you’ll stay close. That Dante will know who his father is.”

  She nods, lifting our boy to shift him across to her other breast. He settles into feeding again and she tips her head back, resting it on the back of her seat. “I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do to come today. I almost turned around and headed back.”

  “What made you stick it out?”

  She watches as I move around the sofa again to sit. “I guess I was worried that if I didn’t come to see you, I might never come at all. And I want you to at least have this, to have seen him one time.”

  “Yeah, except this won’t be the only time, will it?”

  She swallows and looks to her right, staring at the bar.

  “Will it, Elena?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not disappearing again.”

  “I need to. I need more time away from you to work out if I can put my interests second to yours.”

  “Can’t you do that close by?” Why does she have to put so much distance between us? I need to hear her say it. “Why do you need to be so far away?”

  “Because every time I look at you I’m reminded what love is.”

  Hope swells in my chest, the emotion a fist around my lungs. Yet I fight to keep my face neutral, to not show my weakness. “Why do you say ‘was?’ Nothing’s changed about how I feel. I don’t get how you can switch it off.”

  “I can’t. That’s the problem.” A lonely tear slides over her cheek. I edge forward, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “Please, don’t touch me again.”

  With my palms up in surrender, I slip back onto the worn cushion. “I don’t understand how you think this could be easier on you. If the feelings are there, baby, why do this to yourself?”

  “I already told you why.”

  “Because you can’t deal with only getting a part of me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I think you’re over-exaggerating.”

  She scowls at me. “Where are we, King?” She tips her chin up, gesturing to the room around us as she snaps her maternity bra closed. “Where are we sitting?”

  “In the common room.”

  “Of?”

  “My club.”

  “Exactly.” Her gaze hardens, something akin to resolution hiding behind the pain. “As long as this is where you want to be, you have no room for us. Admit it.”

  “I’d make fuckin’ room,” I growl. “Yes, this is my life. This is who I am. But it’s not the sum of everything that I love.” I point to Dante. “I love him. I love you. I love that we made somethin’ so perfect. And yes, I love the people here almost as much. They’ve been there for me, given me direction, and picked me up when I needed it. I’m not givin’ any of it up: you, him, or them. All you’d have to do is tell me when I’m not spending enough time with you. Help me balance the two things, the two families.”

  “And what about Carlos?” She holds Dante out for me to take. “What do you think he’d do if he knew I was here?” Bitterness laces her next words. “I heard he’s still alive.”

  I slip my hands underneath the bundle of warmth, my gaze fixed to his sleepy eyes. My chest tightens with equal parts adoration for this little piece of us, and a panic that he could be harmed by something out of my control. I guess this is what being a parent feels like: love and fear all rolled into one. “Why does he have blue eyes?” Hers are brown, mine green. It doesn’t make sense.

  “All babies have blue eyes at first. They’ll change as he gets older.”

  I cradle him in my right arm and run my index finger over the tip of his button nose and around his chubby face, then push the blanket back to see all of his shock of dark hair. His ears are the same shape as Elena’s, with a little dip in the middle of the shell. But aside from that, I can see the resemblance to my family coming through strong.

  “You didn’t answer me,” Elena says quietly. “If I stayed, King. If we tried to make things work, what do you think Carlos would do if he knew?”

  Dante lets out a small squeak as I roll him to his belly and settle him on my chest. His tiny fingers open and close over the VP badge on my cut while I run my palm up and down his back in slow, smooth strokes. “He’d find a way to get to you.” Even after the promise I forced him to make.

  “Exactly. And you know it wouldn’t be so he could give me a welcome home party.”

  A shiver runs the length of me, and I can’t quite figure out if it’s a chill from the truth of her words or a thrill from feeling Dante’s warm breath heating the cotton of my T-shirt.

  “I’d do everything I could to protect you. You know that.”

  “I do, but there’d be that one time, that single day when it wasn’t quite enough. Could you live with yourself if Dante was hurt in all of this?”

  “No.” His rosy lips part, his eyes firmly shut as he succumbs to sleep.

  “Exactly. So for once, just set your heart aside and realize that there’s something greater than us at stake here.” Elena fusses in the baby bag and pulls out a bib. “You might want to put this under his head in case he burps.”

  He grumbles as I lift his head delicately and give Elena space to lay the towel square out over my T-shirt. Dante’s eyes move under his lids, and I catch myself wondering what it is babies dream of. Is he imagining Elena? Seeing her in his dreams? You wouldn’t be the only one, buddy.

  “What do you propose then?” I ask, not able to tear my gaze from the beautiful life we made.

  “I’ll let you know where we are, but you only visit on his birthday and Christmas.”

  “No.” She can’t keep me away from him that long at a time. I’d miss so much. “Every second weekend.”

  She shakes her head. “Quarterly.”

  “Are you fuckin’ ki
ddin’?” I bellow. Dante squeaks in protest. “Sorry, li’l man.” I hold her gaze as I lay out my last demand. “Monthly.”

  She huffs out a breath and fidgets with the baby bag. “Okay.”

  “Where are you livin’?” Where has she been hiding all this time?

  “Denver.”

  “Nope.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You’re moving’.”

  “I don’t think you have the right to tell me where—”

  “You didn’t have the right to take my son away from me,” I butt in, “but you did it anyway.”

  She scowls and slams her arms across her chest, making those milk-filled tits pop. Down boy.

  “You’re movin’. Understood?”

  “I’ve got a job there.”

  “I’ll get you another one.”

  “Dante has a life there as well.”

  “He’s barely a month old, Elena,” I grate out. “He’s got nothin’ that he’ll remember. All he needs is you, me, and a shitload of love to get him through the crappy time when he asks us how he came about.”

  She smirks at the final bit, seemingly fighting a proper smile. “I guess.”

  “Baby, I’m not having you walk back in here after the better part of a year away just to rip my family away from me again.”

  She stares at the sofa cushion beside her, her fingernail picking at a seam.

  “You remember that conversation we had outside the motel when you wanted to come with me? The day you told me about this guy?”

  She smiles, still avoiding eye contact. “How could I forget? You killed my last hope that day.”

  I ignore the lance through my chest that jibe gives. “Remember what I said to you about how I had somethin’ amazing I’d been workin’ on for us?”

  “Yes.” She frowns, looking up from her destruction of our furniture.

  “The day you left I tore it down. Couldn’t bear to look at it.”

  “What was it?” Her gaze falls to Dante, who’s out to the world.

  “I built a house.”

  Her sharp intake of breath makes the little guy twitch in his sleep. “A house?”

  “Well, most of one. I hadn’t finished. All the same, it would have been perfect, but after you walked out I couldn’t look at it without feelin’ like a failure.”