Resistance Page 16

  “I have waitressing experience, actually. I wouldn’t mind,” Pepper announces. Something new. Something I didn’t know.

  “I wasn’t implying that you’d be slinging drinks, as my darling wife so nicely put it. I was thinking more of having you help out in the office. Accounting, orders, hiring, payroll, et cetera,” he explains.

  “Wow. Really?”

  “If you’re game and planning on sticking around, yes,” he answers. Allie sticks her spoon into Clara’s ice cream and takes a bite.

  “Hey!” Clara exclaims.

  “I wanted to try it.” Allie shrugs.

  “You’ve been spending too much time eating with Sawyer.” Clara chuckles.

  “Naw, he’s only like that with bacon.” The table, including myself, erupts with laughter. The kid is spot-on.

  Allie looks like she needs someone to roll her out of the Parlor by the time we’re all finished. Of course Pepper, the champ, took down her entire sundae with no issue. I have no idea where it all goes but man, that gal can eat ice cream. Dom and Pepper stand near his car, talking about next steps for a possible job while Allie climbs in and Clara and I hang back a step or two.

  “Sawyer, is this serious?” she asks me quietly.

  “I hope so,” I admit.

  “I don’t think you should just bring dates around Allie. She gets attached,” she starts.

  “I’m not an idiot, Clara,” I grit out.

  “I do wonder sometimes,” she quips.

  “Listen, cut the shit. You were downright rude to Pepper in there and it pissed me off. She’s not so different from you. She’s reserved, doesn’t trust easily, and has some baggage.”

  “Are you saying I’ve got baggage?” she squeaks.

  “An entire ship hold’s worth. You going to deny that?” I snap.

  “No.” She looks at the pavement, fidgeting. “I just don’t like that she’s hiding something. I can feel it. She’s not good enough for you.”

  “You don’t get to be the judge. I’ll decide that. As for hiding shit, you are the queen of that. But trust me when I say you don’t know what you’re talking about. If she wants to share with you someday, she will, but I’m not talking to you about her personal stuff,” I say, hoping to drive the point home.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” I parrot.

  “Thanks for coming tonight,” she says.

  “I wouldn't have missed it for anything,” I answer.

  Clara steps away, approaching Dom, slinging an arm around his waist. He pulls her in tightly to his side. I step into Pepper’s space and place a hand on her shoulder. She looks up to me and smiles shyly before thanking Dominic and Clara for the concert and ice cream. I grab her hand as we walk back to the truck, swinging it up to plant a light kiss on the inside of her wrist.

  “She definitely does not like me,” Pepper declares. I can’t help it. I burst out laughing and sweep her up into my arms. She clutches my neck and squeals.

  “Who gives a shit?” I answer. She smiles and kisses me sweetly.

  “Good answer. Let’s go have some hot sex. I could use a Sawyer Crown orgasm right about now,” she whispers into my mouth. I set her down in front of her door, open it for her, and watch as she buckles in.

  “One Crown orgasm, coming right up!” I say and laugh, shutting the door and trotting around to my side.

  Chapter 22

  Too Much Sex?

  Green, blue, and black whirl together, speeding past me. The sun is shining brightly and the air is warm and fresh. To top it all off, Pepper’s on the back of my bike. I can smell the honeysuckle scent that I’ve come to associate with her whirling around us. The last week has felt off. She’s hot and cold. Willing to snuggle or hold hands one second but then pulling out of my hold the next. Sex, though, damn. It’s good. It’s frequent and it’s wild. But the thing is I want this to be more than sex. I want to feel connected to her through more than just the physical intimacy part. I want the conversations, the knowing each other through just a shared look. The easy way two people move about a house together through sheer practice and time. She’s halfway there but retreating, little by little, outside of sex, day by day. It concerns me. I try to bring it up and she refuses to talk about it.

  “Tell me a truth,” I’d said the other morning. She’d stayed silent. I’d tried a different approach. I’d dropped my lips to the scar on her side and kissed it. “How’d you get this?”

  “Car accident.”

  I’d kissed the next one, near her shoulder. “And this?”

  She’d sighed. “Explosion.”

  “And this one?” I’d trailed kisses along the scar that barely shows on her face.

  “Broken nose. Are we done?” she’d snapped at me finally.

  “Pepper?” I’d asked, hoping she’d open up, talk to me.

  “I should get home.”

  “You haven’t even had coffee yet,” I’d noted. She’d pushed out of my bed, dressed, and left without uttering another word. Car accident. Explosion. Broken nose. It was something. It was sharing, but it’d put her in a funk enough to leave abruptly. I’d rubbed my hand over my face and growled at the ceiling, frustrated. I should have gone after her. I didn’t.

  Frustration coils in my stomach as we speed along towards her house. I suggested this ride. I’d wanted to get out, the two of us alone, away from the bedroom, to connect. The ride has been silent, which is fine, seeing as it gives me time to think and Pepper time to just be wrapped around me. I’m running out of ideas on how to break through her walls. I know she’s given me more than she thought she was capable of lately. I know that in her head that makes sense but I also know that she’s got a lot more to give. The way she is with Allie says so. The way she is with me in those tender moments when she’s not hiding herself away, I see it. I see more. I see what a good friend she is to Greta. How they take care of each other in a silent, strong way. The passion that goes into her workouts. She’s all in. It’s there, it’s in her, more, but how do I convince her that it exists when she refuses to acknowledge it?

  At the club gatherings, people love her. The only exception is Carmine, who’s been missing in action for the last two days. Hoot thinks she's just about the sweetest thing, outside of Greta, who walks the planet. Beau keeps saying to “tie that shit down,“ because she's a good woman who’s equally good with all the kids. How does she not recognize those parts of herself?

  We pull onto her street and her hands slide to the insides of my thighs, slowly sliding their way up to my crotch. I know what she’s doing. I pull into her driveway and kill the engine as she starts to massage me. Pulling her arms from me, I hop off the bike and reach out to help her off. I want her to know this isn’t just a sex thing for me. I secure our helmets to the bike and take her hand as we walk up and into her house.

  “Baby, help me out of these pants. We definitely have time before I have to be at work,” Pepper says and winks. I sigh. I am all for sex. Lots of sex. But it seems like that’s all I am to her. That that’s all we are.

  “I don’t want to just screw you, Pepper. Why does it seem like all you want from me is sex?” I grate out. She stops, body stiff, and looks at me. I let her. I’m still holding her hand; I want to show her that I want the whole deal, not just the bedroom. She jerks her hand from mine and takes two steps away from me, glowering. Hurt.

  “Sex is easy. Unattached and safe. If you fall in love it’s no longer safe sex,” she admits, moving to the kitchen. She pulls down the bourbon and a glass. I want to take that bottle and smash it against the wall.

  “You'll regret it. Living behind your wall. You’ll never fall in love if you don’t risk it all. You have a choice,” I push. She snorts at me and shakes her head venomously. She puts the glass to her lips and slugs back the brown liquid in one fluid motion.

  “Don’t you understand? I chose this life over the other one. I knew what I was getting into, no family, no connections, no PTA meetings or holiday dinners, no rel
ationships. It was a tough call...but I made it. I had no one left. Not really. It was easy for me.” Tears start to leak from the sides of her eyes. “But you—you have people. You have a whole network of people that love you...Allie and Clara and good friends who would miss you. Don't you see? I made a choice knowing I would miss out on all those things. I chose knowing my future would be permanently altered. That my dreams from before would just have to adapt to my new life. I can't drag you down that road with me. I'd never ask that of anyone. Adapt or die, Sawyer, that's how I live.” She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. I feel like I’m drowning in her words. “You will never have to make that choice. I will never allow you to put yourself in a position where you have to make that choice,” she continues. “Your attraction to me is much like your love was for Clara. I’m another damaged, broken woman with secrets to save.”

  “Stop it!” I roar angrily, tension seizing my muscles. She’s wrong and crossing a line. I could have compared her. I didn’t. I didn’t because there was something about her that made me look past those feelings, made me leave them behind. I will not let her do that.

  “No! I won't. I’m not Clara. I’m not fixable. You don’t get to know my past, my secrets. They. Are. Mine. I’m not hiding them in shame. I’m legally not able to divulge. You need move past that. I can only give you what I’ve been giving you. I have nothing else. I can’t use you like she did. I’m not that selfish!” she yells at me, arms flying up dramatically and hair whirling around her shoulders. Anger rips through me.

  “She's not as selfish as people think. You don’t even know her! I won’t stand for anyone bad-mouthing her or any of the people I care about for that matter,” I push. She stops moving and stares wide-eyed at me.

  “Oh shit!” she hisses in shock, “you still love her.”

  “No,” I declare firmly.

  “Yes.” She shakes her head and says, “What am I, Sawyer? A distraction? A plaything to take your mind off of your reality?”

  “No, Pepper. It’s not like that. I’ve lived secrets. I’ve had the alternative relationship. It sucked. I don’t want that. I want honesty and accountability. I want you and I want the truth,” I grind out, irritated. We’re standing in the kitchen close together but the spaces between our words and each other seem so stretched out. Dread builds with the weight of every passing second that she’s silent.

  “I’m not her. I’m not her and I think you’re still hung up on her. I think you’re comparing me to her,” she finally admits.

  “I’m not comparing you. I’m not hung up on Clara! FUCK!” I blow out in frustration. “I’m pissed off because you’re hiding something huge, Pepper. I don’t know what it is but I know that it’s big. You aren’t in witness protection for nothing! I promised myself I wouldn’t do secrets again!” I yell out. Shock registers on her face like a physical slap.

  “Then don’t,” she replies simply, closed off. Her face grows stoic.

  “How can you say that? I’m telling you I’m giving up on you...say something!” I shout in frustration.

  “I’ve given what I am capable of. I’m sorry that’s not enough for you.” Her shoulders droop and her expression is broken but she won't budge. Resistance. Nothing but resistance. It’s infuriating. Her eyes glisten with tears that she holds in. She’s fighting the urge to cry. She’s willing me to make this choice for us. For me to leave. She’s proving a point, even if the cost is her own heart. Facing each other in a staring match, I need to know more, but she can’t give it to me.

  “It’s not enough,” I bark and stalk out of the house, slamming the door behind me. At the bottom step of the porch, I hear a glass shatter. The sound mimics the way my heart feels.

  Chapter 23

  Confronting Demons

  It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re screwing up something important, yet somehow continuing to screw it up anyway. I regret storming out of Pepper’s. I should have stayed. I should have forced her to admit her feelings. It was all there behind her eyes, plain as day. She thinks she’s doing me a favor, but why, I don’t know. I get the whole living-a-normal-life-in-WITSEC concern, but isn’t the point of that so that one can live a normal life again?

  I show up at the “cabin” that belongs to Clara and Dom. It’s more like a log mansion if you ask me. I don’t really recall how I arrived here but I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. I raise my hand to knock on the impressive wooden door but it swings open before I have a chance. Clara stands in yoga pants and a tank, colorful hair swept up atop her head and hand on a hip.

  “Sawyer?” her voice is cautious, reserved.

  “I...” I don’t get to finish my thought, not that I even know what I was trying to say, before Clara pulls me by the bicep into the house and pushes me onto the couch.

  “What’s wrong? Who died?” she asks, worried, concern etching her features. “Actually, I’m really glad you’re here. I have something to tell you,” she says, bulldozing the conversation. “Dominic wants to adopt Allie.”

  “What?!” I boom, tension coiling deep in my gut. Holy shit. What the hell is she talking about?

  “Before you freak the fuck out, can I please explain?”

  “Explain what exactly, Clara? That you want to make your happy new family legal? That you want to cut me out? What about Allie’s best interest?! Jesus...I come here for...I don’t know what and you spring this on me?!”

  She stands, pacing, hands balled into tiny fists.

  “NO! No one is taking Allie away from anyone. He’s adopting her so that she feels a part of the family, so we all have the same last name. Nothing on your end will change. Same visitation, same role. Dominic is still her stepfather. I haven’t talked to Allie yet because I wanted to talk to you first! If she abhors the idea then it gets tossed out the window, but Jesus, Sawyer, let’s let her make the decision for what will make her feel connected with all of us.”

  Fuck. Now I feel like a total ass. I were in Dom’s situation I’d probably want the same thing. A unified family.

  “My role doesn’t change? I don’t lose any time with her?” I ask, feeling defeated.

  “No and no. Sawyer, you’re her father, I could never take her away from you like that,” she says more softly.

  “It would kill me, you know.”

  “I would kill me too,” she admits.

  “So a last-name change, essentially, and you’ll have legal work drawn up to state that I have parental rights still?”

  “Do you need that?” she questions.

  “I want that,” I declare. I do need that. I need it so I know that no one will ever take my little girl away from me whether or not I’m her dad.

  “Then okay. I’d like to ask Allie next week. She’ll no doubt feel conflicted so be sure to be ready for her to run to you. I want all three of us to be there for her while she thinks it through,” she says.

  “Of course,” I answer.

  “Now, uhh, why are you here?”

  I suck in a sharp breath, feeling childish almost for having popped over for woman troubles now. Allie is about to have a monumental moment and I’m here because my woman loves to screw me but doesn't want commitment. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Pepper thinks I’m hung up on you,” I blurt.

  “Are you?” She inhales sharply. I shake my head, searching for the right words to explain this to Clara.

  “I chose to feel it, my love for you, but you couldn't choose. Clara, you were what I wanted but I'm not sorry it’s over. Not now. I gave what I gave and it wasn't reciprocated, not the way I wanted. I'm not sorry there's nothing left to say. There's no way back to how we were. This time it has to go right. My life. My love...it has to go right this time.” I pause, trying to figure out what I need to say. “We have to stop hiding from the shadows we left behind. You kept secrets that I thought I knew. Every single silent moment felt like a debt we had to pay. I'm free of it all now. It feels good. Let me go. Let me have my life. You’v
e taken up home inside of me and you’ll never leave, but...”

  Her broad mouth, always ready with a smile or wisecrack, smiles sadly at me. She understands.

  “But you need me to say it,” she finishes for me.

  “I don’t, Clara,” I say bitterly. “That’s why I’m here, I don’t need to hear anything from you. I need you to be my friend, my best friend. I need you to be happy for me, but I don’t need to hear that you approve or grant permission. You don’t have a hold on me in any way to warrant granting permission.”

  Her eyes fill with tears and I know I’ve struck a chord.

  “Sawyer…” she says voice faltering. “I’m so afraid to let go, really let go, because it means there is a possibility of losing you one hundred percent.” Her voice waivers but she steadies it.

  “Maybe, but you know me and you know I wouldn’t do that. I think it’s a control issue.”

  She cackles loudly, head dipping back. “You sound like my therapist.”

  “Your therapist sounds smart,” I retort dryly. She takes my hand in hers and squeezes.

  “I don’t think once you’ve loved someone you ever really get to unlove them.”

  “I agree, but you love Dom the way a wife should love a husband, and I want to find that too. I think Pepper could be the one, Clara. You have to let her in. You have to share. There’s enough of me for everyone,” I say gently.

  “How on Earth did I ever get so lucky to find you?” Her voice is thick with sentiment.

  “Same reason I was lucky enough to find you. We served each other well, really well, until we didn't anymore, and that’s okay,” I push.

  “True enough. Beer?” she asks. She’s deflecting. I get that. It’s hard to say what I said. It’s got to be equally hard to hear it.

  “Sure,” I answer.

  “Good, ‘cause I guess it’s time you tell me all about Pepper and let me see if I can help you out,” she calls over her shoulder on her way to the fridge.