Page 55 of Bolt's Flame
I looked back at Fiona, at the way she was holding onto her dad like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart, and I made a silent vow right then and there. I was going to make sure James paid for what he’d done. With his life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE CLUBHOUSE FELTdifferent now. Every shadowseemed to hold a threat. Every creak of the old wooden floorboards set my nerves on edge. James was out there somewhere, and despite the safety the club provided, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching, waiting for his next move.
I kept my distance from everyone, wanting to be alone with my thoughts. But it seemed like every time I turned around, Bolt was there, watching me with that intense gaze of his. It was like he thought he could protect me just by being near me, and a part of me hated how much I wanted to believe that.
How much I still wantedhim.
My mind couldn’t grasp that, still wanting him. How could you still love someone that hurt you? I sure as hell didn’t love James and hadn’t for a very long time, but I knew the relationship with Bolt wasn’t the same and I shouldn’t compare the two. James was a monster.
I was standing in the kitchen, staring at a cup of coffee I’d poured but had no intention of drinking, when I heard the door open behind me. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. His presence was like a storm rolling in, dark and charged with electricity.
“Fiona,” his voice low and cautious.
I turned my head to look at him, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was racing. “What do you want, Bolt?”
His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching mine. “We need to talk about your safety.”
“I don’t need you to babysit me,” I snapped, hating how defensive I sounded, how vulnerable I felt. “I can take care of myself.”
“Like hell you can,” he shot back, his voice rising before he caught himself. He ran a hand down his beard, exhaling sharply and sat across from me. “Look, I know you’re scared. And I know you don’t trust me. But I’m not going to let him get to you. Not while I’m around.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning back, trying to put up some kind of barrier between us. “Why do you care so much, Bolt? Won’t this mess with your social life?”
“Because I care about you and youaremy social life,” he said, his voice rough, the words sounding like they were ripped from him. “Everything is screwed up, and I know you think I fucked around on you, but I didn’t, and I know I have to prove that to you. But fuck, you gotta meet me halfway.”
The intensity in his eyes made my heart stutter, and I wanted to believe him. “You say that, but when I walked into your room and saw—”
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” he interrupted, his voice hard, filled with a desperation that caught me off guard. “Fiona, I don’t know how she ended up in my bed. I was drugged or somethin’. I can’t remember shit.”
God, I wanted to believe that so badly. But the image of him and Jenny, the way they looked together, it just wouldn’t go away. “The image won’t disappear,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I can’t unsee it no matter how hard I try to, andI am trying,but it’s hard when I have to see her all the time!”
He closed his eyes, like he was absorbing the blow, then opened them again, his gaze more determined than ever. “Until I can prove I didn’t sleep with that bitch and she’s booted out, at least trust that I’m going to keep you safe.”
There was a pause, a moment of charged silence as we stood there, staring at each other. He was so close, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the faint scent of that woodsy cologne he wore and leather that clung to his skin. It was intoxicating, and it made my head spin.
“I’ll be watchin’ you,” he continued, his voice steady but softer now. “We’re not takin’ any chances with James. You’re not going anywhere alone, not even outside.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him I didn’t need his protection, but the look in his eyes stopped me. He wasn’t just being overbearing; he was genuinely scared for me. And that scared me too, because it meant he saw a danger I might not be ready to face.
“Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t need you hovering around me all the time.”
He nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “I’ll give you space, but I’m not goin’ far.”
I looked away, staring at the cup of coffee that had gone cold. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No,” he said quietly. “Not when it comes to you.”
Something shifted in the air between us, both heavy and fragile. I wanted to reach out, to touch him, to let him in just a little bit. But I was too afraid. Too afraid of what it would mean, of what I might feel if I let him close again.
“Why is this so important to you?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “Why not just give up on me?”
He hesitated, like he was wrestling with something inside himself, and then leaned on the counter, his eyes boring into mine. “Because I made a promise to myself that I’d protect you. And because... because I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Not now. Not ever. Without you, I feel fucking breathless, like I can’t breathe. So, no Fiona, I won’t give up on us. I need you to fucking keep me alive because without you, I’ll suffocate.”
The sincerity in his words, the raw emotion in his eyes, made something crack inside me. I wanted to believe him, wanted to let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth. But it was so hard, too damn hard, to let go of fear, insecurities, and the anger instilled in me from my past.
“I want to believe you so much,” I whispered, my voice shaking.