Page 15 of Blade

Now, with all her bags loaded onto a trolley, we’re about to find out.

I half expected him to be standing by the Arrivals gate, possibly holding a large sign with my name on it, but that’s just what Hollywood movies conditioned me to think would happen.Instead, we find him leaning against the side of the gleaming black van the club uses when we need to move in force.It’s not the same vehicle I nearly bled out in not so long ago, we scrapped that one, but it sure vividly reminds me of that night for some reason.Or maybe that’s down to the unwavering way his eyes track us as we approach.Like green flame.Like a river of glowing green flame.The sky behind him seems so much darker than it is by comparison.

“Welcome home, Bella,” he tells her once we’re close enough to hear.

He embraces her tightly, which belies his toneless greeting and all the texts he’s sent in the past couple of hours.

“You know, Rogue, I almost believe you,” she says, hugging him back.

“I never wanted you hurt,” he tells her.“You can believe that.”

She nods and steps back, and I let them have a moment while I load the bags into the back of the van.They don’t spend it talking about anything much.

He opens the back door for her and slams it shut once she gets in, turning to me, the green flames in his eyes rising.

“You can spend tonight at the clubhouse, but after that, I want her elsewhere,” he says, probably quietly enough for her not to hear.“I don’t need to open another front with the Moretti family.Or the Ravinas for that matter.We’ve got enough going on.”

He’s talking about the crime boss who she was supposed to marry and what’s left of her own family and the little influence they still have.

“Why would any of them make a fuss?”I ask.“Moretti’s moved on and the Ravinas… they’re not what they used to be.”

Apart from telling me that one of her brothers and her father were dead, and the other brother not wanting to know her, we didn’t talk about any of them at all while we were in New York.But we’ll probably have to now.

“They already know she’s here,” Rogue says and walks around the car, completely ignoring my whispered, “What?”

“We’ll talk at the clubhouse,” he says and gets behind the wheel.

I join him in the front, no matter how much I’d rather be sitting in the back next to Bella.That’s all I really want to do.Sit by Bella.Lie next to her.Hold her hand.Watch her smile.

She’s smiling now as she looks out the window, the glassiness and fear gone from her eyes.She’s happy to be home.I’m gonna do whatever I must to make sure she stays that way.I smile back briefly before fixing my eyes on the road into darkness ahead of us.

Now I’m the one afraid… terrified, actually, that we made a horrible mistake coming back here.We should’ve just stayed in New York where we could be together and have everything we ever wanted.Because here in LA we never could.And maybe that hasn’t changed like I was sure it had.

8

Bella

The ride from the airport was quiet and tense, but thankfully also short.I expected to be taken to some sort of clubhouse, but what I didn’t expect was to pass by the 1950s diner where Blade kissed me for the first time.It used to be a total dive bar back then, with Harleys and beat-up pickups parked in front of it at all hours of the day and a clientele to match.It didn’t look that much different as we passed it now, only cleaner somehow, lit up better.I try to hold onto the memory of that first kiss.But we also talked about going after Ghost in that diner for the first time and that did not turn out well.

Ghost succeeded in coming after me instead.

He killed Angel.

And destroyed all our lives before they even got started.

My mind’s still awash with all those less than pleasant memories as Rogue parks the car in front of a four-story building with large dark windows and a parking lot full of Harleys, vans and pickups—none of which are beat-up.The compound is enclosed by a tall wall that makes me feel safe and isolated at the same time.

The door of the clubhouse is open and soft rock music washes over me as I exit the van.Blade gives me a reassuring smile and squeezes my arm on his way to the back of the van to get my bags.

I just stand there, enjoying the warm, almost fresh air on my face, realizing I missed my hometown more than I thought I did.Or more than I’ve thought about in years.There’s just something about the soft warmth here than makes people softer too.Maybe it’s the harsh winters and sweltering summer that make people in New York so hard and mean.

“You can leave those in the van, Blade,” Rogue says.“She’s not staying here.”

So much for people here being soft and not mean.

“Ghost almost killed me too, you know,” I say, shuddering in the sudden cold that memory brings.I’ve packed it so far down into the bottom of my mind I hardly think of it anymore and got some therapy to deal with it in prison, but despite all that it’s front and center in my mind again.

The terrifying realization that I’d trusted the wrong person.That he won’t be stopping the car to let me out.The cold, dank basement of a theatre he kept me locked up in.The theatre where Angel died trying to save me.Where she screamed and I couldn’t do anything to help her.The chains cutting into my wrists as I tried.The shakes and the nausea and the hallucinations as my addiction to heroin finally loosed its hold on me.Just in time so I could be wholly sober and present for the worst days of my life.

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