Page 11 of Brave as It

He thinks it makes him less than, I think it makes him everything. Wesson Vaughn is the strongest man I’ve ever met. Loyalty, he has it to the core. He wouldn’t run far away from me even when he should have. He is a total package. The way he gives me confidence I’ve never had before. The way he can talk me down every damn time the anxiety creeps in threatening to take over. The way he looks at me like I’m the only person in theroom even when we are in a crowded place. The way he protects me and guards me always looking out for my comfort and safety.

And he does it all after losing his legs.

I’m the idiot leaving him behind.

What other choice do I have?

The tears fall down my face as I try in vain to see the screen of my phone. A tap at my window makes me jump. Turning my head the sight in front of me has my anxiety rising to a fever pitch.

Right outside my car is a woman with black and red hair. Her eyes pierce into mine as I roll the window down.

“Who are you?” She asks with a tone so sharp I feel my own throat close up.

“Emmalee,” I manage to speak.

She nods, “Emmalee from North Carolina, what brings you to Sumner?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Needed gas.”

“Seems you got your gas, got your food, and yet, you’re sitting in this car, with your head slumped over and tears running down your face. Are you on something?”

I gasp! “Oh God no! I … I …I,” I stutter, “I’m on a road trip.”

Her face gets this edge to it, more so than before if that is even possible. “Don’t know you, don’t want issues with you. I’m Princess, my man is Cruz, President of the Ravage MC. We don’t like visitors and I damn sure don’t like damsels in distress. You need to find yourself sweetheart, this ain’t the place for you to do it.”

A man wearing a leather cut calls out to her to come on. Only then does her face soften. “Seriously, you’re too soft to be in this town with my club. Get going and don’t look back. You aren’t meant to be an ol’ lady. Been around long enough to read that all over your face.”

Before I can respond, she walks off like she didn’t just judge me in the harshest of ways.

No, I’m not meant to be an ol’ lady in a motorcycle club, fate has made that clear. How can she think I’m a damsel in distress, I didn’t ask her for anything. I’m trying to figure this out! I’ve been shot. I have battle scars outside and inside.

Her judgement sparks a fire inside me. I won’t cry anymore. Fuck anyone who thinks I can’t tough it out as an ol’ lady or not. I’m stronger than anyone thinks. With this new resolve. I hit the road once again.

South bound.

It’s the only thought I have as I pull away with her stone-cold eyes watching me go.

A place where a stranger can’t read me in less than sixty seconds. One thing about this trip, it’s going to make me stronger or kill me.

I don’t know which.

FOUR

WESSON

Boomerism: Waiting, watching, and wondering is a true test of patience.

“You sure about this?”Boomer asks as I sit at the table with him and Tripp.

“She doesn’t want it.” I give them honestly. “Emmalee made it very clear. She was going out on her own and not to follow, not to invade her privacy. She wants me to let her go.”

“And she means it?” My dad, Boomer asks me with a raised eyebrow. “Sometimes women say one thing and mean another, son. Like your mom will tell me it’s fine when indeed something is not fine. That said, yes, women do say things they mean. I’m asking you as her man do you think she means it to her core to let her walk away?”

I give a sigh. “I know she meant it and wants nothing to do with me or the club. I don’t know how deep this goes.”

Tripp sits back in the chair studying me. “What is the threat level to you, to the club?”

I shake my head. “None, yet.”

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