Melancholy

“Fuck.”

Warm hands press against my cheeks. I want to open my eyes, but I can’t. They won’t work.

“Hey, wake up.”

I can’t wake up. Vomit rises higher and higher, until I feel it choking me. Gasps and splutters leave my throat, but it’s not enough. I’m going to die.

“Hang on, I’m goin’ to get you help.”

That’s when it all goes black.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

2014 – Santana

“Take me to the club,” I say three days later to Mack as he prepares to leave.

He turns to me. “Why?”

“It’s been three days. He’s not spoken to me, and he’s not going to unless I go in there and fix this.”

“There ain’t nothing you can do, short of tellin’ him you love him, that can fix this.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong.”

“I’ll take you, but listen to me, Santana,” he says, stepping closer. “Don’t go in there and make this worse. You wanna be with Maddox, then fuckin’ be with him. You don’t, leave him be, and make it clear you’re not interested. Quit playin’.”

I nod. “I swear.”

“Fine, then get in the car.”

We get into the SUV in the garage, and I drop down as Mack drives towards the compound. We arrive in good time, with no issues. It’s just on dark, and the club is in full swing. I get out of the car and walk with Mack inside. I see the guys, and they all give me a grin and a wave as I walk past.

I head straight towards Maddox’s office.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, considering it’s been three days and he’s not said a word. He’s right, Mack’s right, and I’m an idiot. Maddox does care about me, and if I’m not lying to myself, I care about him. Can it work? I truly don’t know. Do I want it to? I don’t know that either. All I know is I hurt him, and he deserves me to apologize for that.

I open his office door when I reach it, only to see Krypt and Ash . . . Jesus. I squeal and spin around, pressing a hand to my eyes. “Oh my God, Krypt, I think I just saw your . . . thingy . . .”

Krypt laughs, and Ash cries out in shame.

“Lucky girl.” He chuckles. “And it ain’t a thingy, honey, it’s a co—”

“Krypt!” Ash cuts him off with an embarrassed scoff.

“Where’s Maddox?” I ask, still covering my eyes.

“Out.”

“Okay, carry on.”

I step out, closing the door. My God. I’ll never un-see that. I walk back down the halls, disappointed. Maddox isn’t even here. I go back out and sit at the bar, getting a drink. Austin, the new prospect, comes over and joins me. He’s only young, maybe twenty-six, and has messy blond hair and gorgeous brown eyes.

“How you doin’, Santana?” he asks.

I shrug. “Not too bad, how are you?”

“Aside from being a biker slave, pretty good.”

I laugh. “The life of a prospect, huh?”

He snorts. “Yeah. How’s your leg?”

“It’s fine.” I smile. “All healed.”

“Gettin’ shot sucks.”

I laugh. “Yeah, that’s one way of puttin’ it.”

We chat for more than an hour. Austin tells me about his life, and where he came from. I tell him about mine. We get along quite well. Maddox comes in when I’m on my third drink, and his eyes shoot straight to me. “What the fuck is she doin’ here?”

Still mad, I see.

I go to say something, but he storms off. With a sigh, I get up and walk down the hall after him. He’s gone into his office, and I hesitate outside the door for a few minutes before going in. He’s sitting on the couch, head dropped, a glass of something amber in his hand. He looks up when I walk in, and his eyes are furious.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“To talk to you,” I say, closing the door behind me.

“Nothin’ to talk about. Get out.”

“Jesus, Maddox, can you stop?”

“Stop,” he snorts. “That all you’ve got to say? Are you goin’ to sit here and blame this shit on me, too?”

I shake my head, leaning against the door. “You never told me how you felt.”

He glares at me. “And you didn’t stop to fuckin’ see it.”

“I’m not a mind reader,” I whisper.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter; it’s done with. Now leave. I got pussy waitin’.”

“No,” I bark. “Don’t you push me away!”

“Why?” he roars. “You’re fuckin’ doin’ it to me.”

“I’m not pushing you away,” I cry. “I didn’t know. I . . . I fucked up, Maddox. I fucked up, because I’m scared. I care about you . . . I do . . .”

“Words,” he snarls. “They mean fuck all to me. You’ve done nothin’ but make it clear pretty boys are what you want, not some fuckin’ biker.”

I take a shaky step forward and his eyes widen. “Then I’ll show you that you’re wrong.”

He watches me with that dark, angry expression as I walk towards him. I stop in front of him, and then I slowly climb onto his lap. My heart is pounding—he could throw me off at any second.

Just being settled over Maddox’s big body is doing things to me, strange things. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. He stares at me, not moving, not even attempting to.