Jaded: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series), page 39
“Good. How’s things with you?” I cocked an eyebrow. Edge clearly wanted to discuss something.
“I… uh… wanted a word about Gia.”
I waited.
He measured his words. “What she and I had wasn’t deep, but also, it was. I had a conversation with her a little while ago up in the temporary clubhouse and… wanted to fill you in.”
He watched me for a reaction. I didn’t give him one. Because I didn’t know what was between them; she’d been vague about it.
“I wanted to know she’s good. I left her dangling in the wind when I lost Jet. I wasn’t in the headspace for anything, and I never answered when she reached out. Couldn’t process anything back then. I wanted to check in with her and saw her up there alone just a while ago. We had a conversation in the kitchen, moved it to the small TV room in the back, and… Scooter walked in and saw a hug. Got pissed at me. It was just a hug, brother.”
My nostrils flared. “She was cool with you when you saw each other after she found out her sister died.”
“She was.”
“That wasn’t enough for you?”
“We never really… ended shit. Got no closure.”
He blew out a breath, looked around, eyed Bront on the treadmill and though Bront had earbuds in, Edge still lowered his voice. “She told me she never told you anything about what she and I had.”
“Only there was something but said you never fucked. Wouldn’t break your confidence by sharing details.”
He nodded. “She’s a good girl.”
I was losing patience. “Not interested in chewing the fat about my girlfriend, brother, especially not over the fact you two had a thing.”
“We used to…” he winced. “Used to give one another a little therapy in a way. I gave her something. She gave me something.”
“Clearly those days are done,” I stated. “She’s mine. If you don’t have closure, deal with it. On your own.”
“I know she can’t give me what she gave anymore because she’s with you and you never struck me as a brother who shares.”
My expression soured in a way he wouldn’t miss.
“Not that I’d ever ask. I wouldn’t do that. This’d make sense if you knew what we shared, but she wouldn’t break my confidence, I also won’t break hers without permission, but she told me she’s worried she’s messing up shit with you because of some of her issues, so I’m thinkin’ maybe if I share about the thing we had, maybe you can…” He shrugged. “Benefit from that.”
“Not gonna lie, brother, this is beginnin’ to piss me off,” I stated, getting to my feet and wiping my forehead with my towel. I took a swig of my water, grabbed my phone from the wall ledge where it sat with my keys and called my girl. “One sec, Edge.”
Edge watched me do it with worry on his face. “Didn’t mean to-”
I raised a finger to halt him when my girl answered the phone.
“Gigi. Edge is playin’ word games here. Not sure what the fuck it’s about. Said Scott saw you two in an embrace, and it was just a hug.”
“It was just that. Nothing else,” she stated. “I swear it.”
“You cool with him talking to me about what you and him shared? Not that I need to fuckin’ know but he wants to say something to me.”
“He can say whatever he wants to you, Jesse,” she said softly.
I put the phone on speaker. “Repeat that. You’re on speaker.”
“Edge, Hi. You can say anything about me to Jesse.”
“Hey,” he said softly. And I bit my tongue at the warmth not only in his greeting but in his eyes as he talked to my girl. “Thanks, Gia. Just tryin’ to lend a hand. You’re not pissed if I give him some of our history?” he asked.
“I don’t wanna keep anything from Jesse.”
“Thinkin’ it might help if I share some insight.”
“Um, okay. Not sure it would, but… that’s fine.”
“See you in a bit,” I said and ended the call.
“Can we take this somewhere else?” he asked.
It was only Bront with us, earbuds still in and so into his workout I’m not sure he even clocked Edge coming in. I grabbed my shit and followed him outside. He walked to the far end of the compound and sat on a concrete block. He gestured to another one.
“Not feelin’ like sittin’,” I said.
Edge lit a cigarette. I felt that niggling of a craving but avoided the temptation and shook my head when he offered the pack.
After he took a drag, then another he said, “She’d probably be too shy about explaining what I gave her and she might benefit if you give her the same. Never put my hands on her other than in one certain way, never had hers on me in a sexual way. I got somethin’ from her, and it gave her somethin’ back so we kept it up to help one another. We let the rumor mill churn believing we had a relationship going, that she was doing me exclusively. I did that so she’d be welcome at the club without gettin’ unwanted attention. When she found out I was part of that shit on video with Kailey, she wanted to call it off. I told her how it really was that night.”
I didn’t know where this was going but couldn’t stop my lip from curling. “Do I really need to know this?”
“What I did for her, it gave her a bunch of confidence, got her out of her head,” he stated. “Saw her bloomin’ like a flower under it so although you don’t need to know this – ”
“Give it to me.”
“Direction. Affirmations. She’s got self-confidence issues. And she emotionally beats herself up. She benefited from my direction.”
“What way did you use your hands?”
“She got a couple spankings when she wasn’t treating herself right, when she’d get into a state of self-loathing. That release would snap her out of a bad headspace like…” He snapped his fingers.
I flexed my jaw muscles and cracked my neck.
“I’d get her to touch herself. I’d talk her through it. She wouldn’t get to come until I let her. I’d get her to say things. Positive things about herself. Got her to go back to school so she could get a better job. Got her to get into her own place, a place not big enough for Kailey to stay permanently. Not keep lettin’ Kailey mooch. If not for that, Gia might’ve gotten sucked in with the Jackals.”
I grunted and flexed my fists. This wasn’t easy to listen to.
Edge’s hands went up. “Hasn’t happened since Jet. I cut ties. Couldn’t handle bein’ around anybody.”
“What’d she do for you?”
“Directing her was my therapy. I’d get to watch. Get to tell her what to do. She’d listen. That did it for me. Seeing her bloom. Hearing she was feeling better about things because of my help. And she told me you’re kinda like me in some ways, so maybe you’re already working on building her confidence. She says you take her back, that you make her feel safe, that you want to help her get stronger, so maybe my suggestions’ll help. Maybe you’re already working a plan.”
“And that did what for you exactly?” I asked even though I already knew what the answer would be.
“Brother, you know my name,” Edge stated with his brows up high.
“Edging,” I stated quietly.
He shrugged.
“So you’d watch my girl get off and hold yourself back?”
“That’s one way to put it. Gave that name to myself because I’ve always lived life on the edge. Edge of poverty. Edge of insanity. Edge of pitch-black darkness. Born with the name Edgar. Don’t fuckin’ tell nobody,” he pointed at me aggressively. “You get that because of what I got from Gia, so it feels like I’ve paid a penance here, and believe me, it costs me to give that to you. Only other people that know that name are Rudy and Delia. Kids on the street knew me as Eddie.”
“So you’re here to tell me to be bossier to my girl than I am and it’ll help her.”
“Do with that information what you want. She tells me you’re already pretty bossy.”
I snickered. But I still wasn’t finding all this very amusing.
“And in a way that she likes. She’s got it bad for you, says she keeps fuckin’ up. She wants to give you everything she has to give, and she’ll do it too. She’ll burn her own light out making sure you don’t have to live in the dark. But she needs patience.”
“I know.” And I did not have a lot of patience.
“What I did for her helped a bit. We didn’t do it for long. Comin’ from you, it could mean everything. Make her see how beautiful she is. Give her an escape from the pain in her head with a release. Make her believe in herself. In your relationship. Maybe you’ll take it to a new level.” He shrugged.
I said nothing. No way did I want to mimic shit my girl did with another guy. No fucking way.
“I only bring this to you because one, she’s such a sweet fuckin’ girl. Even told myself if I got the shit out of my head by gettin’ a chance at retribution, maybe I’d call her up. Take things to another level with her.”
My eyes narrowed, but before I could fully react, he tacked on, “But two, seein’ how she is with you, or more so, seeing how you are with her? Know she’s better off. You could heal that girl if you put your mind to it. She don’t need to take on my mentally fucked up disaster of a head. I should probably hitch my wagon to a head doctor.” He tapped his noggin. “Think on it, brother, I won’t bring this shit up again unless you wanna talk about it.”
I would absolutely not bring up the fact he got off watching my girl make herself come or that his voice in her ear telling her what to do, what to think, could be responsible for healing any part of her. I’d already decided to heal her. He was right about one thing, I needed to find patience.
He slapped my back with affection and then walked off.
20
I stepped in from my post-workout shower, finding her on the bed, strumming the Gibson, pen in her mouth, notebook beside her.
She let the pen drop and asked, “You upset with me?”
“Should I be?”
“Don’t think so. Didn’t know how that talk with Edge would go.”
I dropped my towel and grabbed a pair of boxers from the drawer. The drawer was full and organized. She did my laundry. The room looked and smelled clean.
“Do we… talk about that?” she asked.
“Still processing,” I told her.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I’ll know when I’m done processing, I guess.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Um… do you think you could help me with a song?”
Up until now, she’d always stop playing when I came in. She’d sing along to the radio beside me in the truck and when we were at the cabin she’d sing while I played the guitar. But she’d never opened up about what was in those journals and she’d never continued to play something of hers when I came into view.
“Happy to try,” I replied, got into a clean pair of jeans, and sat down.
“With how well you play, how come you don’t have a guitar?” she asked.
“With how well you sing, how come you’re not on the radio?” I returned, tapping her nose with my index finger.
Her cheeks were tinted with pink. “Touché.”
“Had a sweet Fender and a pretty nice Epiphone,” I said, “Got Ma to sell them and my drums when I was in the joint to go toward the lawyer bills. Just haven’t replaced ‘em yet.”
“You can play the Gibson whenever you want.”
“Thanks, hostage. What help you need?”
“So, I have some lyrics. The melody usually comes to me when the words do. This time, words came hard and fast but… a cappella. The tune is evading me, but I can’t seem to let go of these lyrics. I’ve tried a couple things and nothing’s coming. If I read it to you, will you let me know if you have any ideas?”
“Can’t promise I’m that musically inclined, but I’m happy to listen and see if I can offer any feedback. Try singing it to me.”
“Don’t have a tune yet.”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’ll come if you sing it out loud.”
She smiled and hesitantly started up, strumming once before launching in.
And the lyrics were pretty, though sad. Her tempo was slow, kinda more spoken word than melodic. And I knew it was about her stepsister. About growing up without much. About never winning battles because she always played both sides. About not thinking there was much out there for happiness, so she looked to a bottle, to pills, to a needle to seek joy. About what she could’ve been if she believed there was joy beyond the temporary high.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t depressing. Or it wouldn’t be if it wasn’t sung like a ballad. She chose words and descriptions that let you visualize, know what you were listening to without it being something that’d drag you down. It could be the kind of song that – if it had a catchy riff and beat – people would sing along to, but those who’d been there or who really cared to listen would get the deeper message. Mourning what could’ve been. It wrapped up talking about starting over again, in a new place, with new eyes, and hopefully without memories of what used to be before the old husk sprouted a seed. How a new flower of a different variety grew in the same place.
“It’s good,” I told her when she sang the last note.
“But?”
“But I can’t tell ya what music would work with it. Not got that kind of talent. Like what you did with the lyrics, get the meaning there but it’s not too in my face like some songs. Liked the reincarnation hints. That’s hopeful. Good that you’re thinkin’ that way about her. I think you should do it to a fast tempo, so it comes across as upbeat, but not in a bubblegum pop way. Not sure how much that helps. That rasp you’re singin’ it with really works.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. Though it was just one word, her eyes held mine with appreciation. She dug that I took the time to think about it instead of just giving her an empty compliment. Liked that I got it.
“That’s the problem with some of my songs,” she said. “Sometimes I can hear the tune in my head but I’m not good enough with instruments to get them to make the sounds I want. Because sometimes it’s about more than a guitar. Piano. Fiddle. Drums. Harmonica. You know?”
“Hand me that, baby?” I reached for the guitar. “Instead of singing the lyrics, hum one of those songs you know what you want to sound like for me.”
She launched into the tune I’d heard through the door back at the cabin when she was giving me the silent treatment. Her eyes were closed as she did it, but the emotion on her face hit me. She was feeling what she was humming.
I started to play along. I improvised a little. Then I improvised a lot, picking up the tempo some more. And her eyes popped open with excitement dancing there.
We spent the rest of the afternoon doing this, me interpreting what she was humming. Some of them I could tell didn’t hit the mark, but others, she’d have me do it again and then she’d use her phone to record an audio clip, asking me to speed up or slow down, mulling over where a guitar solo might work.
When I suggested we stop to get some food at the bar, putting the guitar on the floor on top of the gig bag, she jumped me. She had light in her eyes, the most beautiful smile on her sexy mouth.
“That was fun,” she told me.
“Makes me want to put you in a studio with skilled musicians, so you can get it all figured out.”
“I’d probably be too shy,” she whispered. “Did a studio demo once but it was just me and a guitar with a guy that hit the buttons. I was still pretty shy.”
“Where’s the demo?”
She waved a hand. “Got lost somewhere along the way. I never thought it’d lead anywhere.”
“Maybe when we get our own place I’ll buy a new set of drums, a keyboard. Then maybe I can help you some more.”
Her eyes warmed. They warmed so much it made my chest expand, like I had to make room to fit all the emotion coming at me.
Somebody knocked on my door. I let go of her and opened it.
“Scott,” I greeted.
He looked troubled. “Need to talk to you,” he stated, shooting my girl a disapproving look.
Gigi’s face went pink. “Edge already talked to him, Scooter.”
“Still need to have a word, Gia,” he said. “Out of respect for my brother here. No offence to you.”
“Okay,” she squeaked.
I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring, “Be back, baby,” then I stepped out with him and followed him into his room.
“You saw them together hugging.”
“Yeah,” Scott replied.
“It look like more than hugging?”
“No. But you needed to know in case it is.”
“Talked to Edge. It’s cool. But thanks for havin’ my back.”
He waved like it was nothing.
“You good?” I asked, knowing he wasn’t.
“Not sure we’re gonna make it. Me and Dee.”
“Shit.”
“First I was havin’ shit fuck with my sex drive because of the Jackals memories. Now I see her fuckin’ someone else with flashes in my head when she and I are gettin’ into it, so I get turned off. Then last night, she tries to fuckin’ suggest a threesome after that shitshow in here with Blow and those girls. Like spicin’ it up was what we needed to do to get my sex drive back. In reality, I need to not think about her fuckin’ her ex every time she starts to get close.”
“Shit, brother. Sorry to hear it. Maybe you do need a clean break.”
“Not sure. Gonna think about it for a couple days. Told her we needed a breather. Then I get here after that conversation and see Edge’s arms around your woman and I just… I wanted to make sure you didn’t get blindsided. I heard those two were together a while back up in the falls. Don’t know if you know that.”
“I know about it,” I said. “Know her history with every brother she’s been with or fooled around with. And I know about the hug. Edge came right to me from it and talked to me. They were gettin’ closure. Their thing ended abruptly when Jet died and he went underground for that while.”
“Ah. You’re not worried there’s lingering feelings?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “Wanna go downstairs with me and G for some food?” I offered.
