TRIGGER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (8 page)

“Burgers sound great,” I said, ducking into the
bathroom and sliding the door shut behind me.
 
I just couldn’t bear to look at her so
sad anymore. I tried to tell myself that the little muffled squeak I heard
after slamming the bathroom door shut was just my imagination, wasn’t Cass
stifling a cry at all…

The next time it happened, it was even worse.

It was about two weeks after my first outburst, and my
mood had gone from shifty to straight up unstable. I was finding it harder and
harder to sleep at night, even on those nights when I held Cass to stop her
nightmares.

As bedtime got later and later, I was waking up
earlier and earlier. In between sleeping and rising, I wasn’t dreaming. I was
so exhausted, emotionally and physically, that it was as though I blinked and
two hours of sleep went by. I was losing weight, even though I ate like a pig,
everything I could get my hands on. Anything to occupy my hands, my mind, my
body. I kept seeing the blood on Steel’s shirt, kept hearing my brother’s
voice, his pride when he talked about the club, his pride in me…

It was movie night. We still had a VCR, hooked up to a
grainy old TV that had a perpetual green line running across the bottom of the
screen. I forget what movie it was; some dumb
kids
movie about a guy turning into a fish. It starred that thin guy with the
annoying voice and stupid lips, Don
Knotts
. Cass had
come home one day with an armful of VHS tapes from the thrift store and we’d
been slowly but surely making our way through them.

At any rate, I was zoning in and out, barely able to
follow the plotline. I had a beer in my hand but the effort of raising it to my
lips and sipping it seemed tremendous. I wasn’t feeling anything. Just tired –
not even sleepy, but tired in this way I couldn’t fix with a solid eight hours.

Tired of being a human, maybe. Just like the guy in
the movie, who wanted to be a fish. Cass was sitting with her feet curled up
underneath her, and I noticed that she kept twisting herself this way and that.
It seemed like she was constantly wiggling around. There was a loud bang on the
screen, and suddenly all that twisting she was doing seemed insufferable.

“What the hell are you moving around so much for?” I
heard myself snap. “Just watch the movie.”

“Sorry,” she said, giving me an apologetic smile. “My
back is just killing me. I took a spill coming home on some ice…”

“Why aren’t you more careful, then? What the hell am I
supposed to do, walk you home every fucking day? I’m not your personal
masseuse, you know!” I suddenly let loose in a loud voice, so loud I probably
woke the neighbors. Cass stared at me wide-eyed again, the same way she had
coming out of the shower that day.

“I never said…I don’t want a back rub…Christ, I’m
sorry, Trig,” she said, and those wide eyes filled with tears. “I’ll be more
careful…”

“Oh, shit, Cass,” I said, the rage immediately flowing
back, replaced by a tide of regret. I covered my eyes with my hands. The beer
I’d been holding clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry. You know I’m sorry…ah,
shit…”

“It’s okay,” she said, leaning over and grabbing my
hand away from my eyes. “Another rough day? You seem like you’re having a lot
of those. What’s wrong, Trigger?”

“Nothing,” I hissed, pulling my hand away. I didn’t
want to feel her soft, warm palm around my rough, calloused fingers. “Just
tired. Just tired…”

“Trigger, you think you’re hiding this but…”

“I don’t
think
I’m
doing
anything,
Cass,” I growled, my
eyes falling to hers, heat probably radiating from my pupils onto her face. The
room was dark, the slight fuzzy light from the TV the only means of vision. It
made her look washed out and greenish. Or maybe it was me, my words, my tone,
that was making her look that way…

“I’m just…trying…to live,” I finally said. Suddenly,
in a wave unlike anything I’d ever experienced, I felt my desire for her
peaking. I wanted to rub her aching back. I wanted to move my hands down her
sides and up again, wanted to feel her breasts in my palms, my mouth nestled
into the curve where her neck met her shoulder, her thighs sliding open for me,
her flesh shivering and coming alive for me.

Instantly, as though hit by lightning, my cock was
hard, painfully so, pressed against my zipper. I gulped, closed my eyes, tried
to will the feelings away, feeling ashamed,
so
ashamed…

“Trigger,” her voice was soft and sweet in my ear, a
caress, her silvery tone like a bell, my balls churning as I imagined her
moaning my name into my ear as I plunged into her, drawing forth the pleasure
of her body like a fisherman pulls his line in at the end of the long and
battled day. My teeth grit together, my lust turning to rage again, the tides
changing, it was all happening so quickly…

I felt my hand ball into a fist and I pounded it into
my thigh, as though hurting myself could stop the emotions that roiled inside
me. And then I felt her hand land, gentle as a bird, tentative, fearful, on my
knee, her body leaning in towards mine, that smell of her intoxicating, and
before I could stop myself my hand was wrapped around the back of her head,
yanking her towards me, her short surprised gasp swallowed as my mouth pressed
against hers.

I pressed my tongue against her lips, her reluctance
fading to surprise as she let me in, my heart racing like a sprinter as I
pulled her tighter to me, as though we could fuse our mouths together forever.
She made a sound, deep in her throat. I didn’t know whether it was pleasure or
pain.

But it jogged me out of my mindless desire, suddenly
reminded me that this was Cass, and that I was never going to be able to give
her the kind of love, the kind of gentle and caring love, that she needed. That
she deserved. There was an audible sound as I released her and pulled my lips
away.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling shame burning down,
tamping down the desire, for now, for the moment, the wide-eyed look she was
giving me the opposite of an aphrodisiac. “I’m a fuck. I’m a fucking fuck. I’m
sorry.”

“Thom…” she started to say, leaning in to me again,
her cheeks now flushed even in the sickly light from the TV. She was using my
real name, which she only did when she was drunk or had something terribly
important to say.

But I rose and backed away, holding my hands out in
front of me as though I were warding her off, as though she were some advancing
army that I could hold at bay. And with her chest heaving and short, panting
breaths, she might as well have been just that, an army of all the things I
most desired but knew I could never have.

“No, I can’t do this,” I said. “You’re Cass. It’s
not…I don’t want it. I’m sorry. Good night.”

Good night?
Oh, you’re an even bigger moron than you seem,
I thought
as I closed the door to my room, separating us, putting an end to a moment that
could have stretched out painfully, forever.

I stood there, back against the door, head throbbing,
cock
throbbing even worse, for what felt
like an hour. At some point, I heard her knocking. Light, so light, and her
voice saying my name, sounding like she was calling to me from some other
galaxy. I just shut my eyes tighter.
 
I wouldn’t drag her down with me. Even if she didn’t understand…

She only thought I was good for her because her father
had made her feel she was rotten. But she was good, better than me, a million
times better than me.

I was a killer. A murderer. A broken boy from a broken
home with no family and no friends and no sense of loyalty to anything or
anyone.

Except for her…

…which was why I’d never let myself fuck it up.

“
So
, ready for another round of Boxers, Bolsheviks, and
balaclavas?” Cass said as she opened the book between them. He didn’t respond.
She kicked herself for the stupid joke, the too-enthusiastic greeting.

“Okay, so
we talked about Poland last time. So, what were the repercussions of Poland’s
resistance?”

Again, he
didn’t respond. Cass was slightly taken aback; she leaned in slightly, trying
to catch his eye.

“Thomas,
what’s wrong?” She asked softly, seeing trouble in his eyes.

“Nothing,”
he mumbled. “What was the question?”

“Come on,
we’ve been meeting twice a week for a month now. I know that something’s up.
We’re almost done with this unit. Are you anxious about the test?”

At that, he
finally turned to her, anger sparking in his eyes that made Cass shift
backwards in her seat.

“No, Cass,
I’m not fucking anxious about the fucking test. There’s more important things
than school, you know. We’re not all fucking gunning for Harvard.”

“Oh,” she
said, hurt by his tone. “I’m sorry. I just…”

He sighed,
rubbing his eyes.

“No, I’m
sorry. That was mean. It’s just…it’s nothing. I’m just getting myself all
worked up over nothing.”

Maybe he’s having problems with a girl
, Cass thought, the idea putting a pain in
her heart though she knew he must have throngs of girls available to him
whenever he wanted. Still, the way he looked at her sometimes, made her want to
imagine that she was special to him, somehow.

Yeah, as a friend
,
she thought.

“You can
talk to me, if you want. But you don’t have to,” she said softly.

He stared
at her for a long moment.

“It’s just
my brother. He’s been gone for a couple days now. Haven’t heard from him. It’s
no big deal, though. He’s just out doing business. He knows how to take care of
himself. He just usually, you know, checks in. Likes to make sure I’m doing my
homework and shit. Like I’m a kid. Fucking annoying, actually, but I don’t
know…”

“What kind
of business is it? I’m sorry, that must be hard,” Cass said, leaning in again.
Thomas’ eyes glanced away and then back. He shifted in his seat.

“Uh, the
kind of business a girl like you should stay away from,” he finally said. “If
you catch my drift.”

Prostitution?
Cass thought, not quite understanding. As though reading her thoughts, he shook
his head.

“Just…dirty
business. Can get a little risky sometimes,” he said. “Let’s get back to
Poland.”

“What about
your folks? Do they know…”

“My folks
can suck a dick. They haven’t been part of the picture since I was in 7th
grade. It’s just me and him.”

“Oh,” Cass
said. “That’s really tough, Thomas, I’m sorry. I know family can be…can be
rough…”

“You think
you do,” Thomas said, lashing out again. “But when you get home, I bet
someone’s there for you.”

Cass
winced, thinking about how opposite that was from the truth.

“Not
really,” she mumbled.

Thomas saw
the pain in her face and regretted his words. He didn’t even really believe
them, although they’d come out of his mouth. A girl with eyes as sad as
Cass’
had something gone terribly wrong somewhere. Plus, he
could see for himself her bargain-bin style, the way she flinched at loud
noises. There were times when, watching her, he wondered who could possibly
hurt her. Then there were times when he wanted nothing more than to take all
that pain away…

Now, he did
something he hadn’t been brave enough to do in the past. He reached out and
grabbed her hand in his. It was so small and soft compared to his own. He felt
her at first go rigid, then soften slightly, her eyes widening in shock, her
cheeks flaming red.

“Sorry,
Cass,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just upset.”

“It’s
okay,” she said with a shy smile. He felt a sudden urge to lean in and cover
that smile with his lips, to slip his tongue between her teeth, to feel her
hair running through his fingers. Immediately, he felt himself hardening, the
visions in his head of her soft mouth against his enough to incite a wild
desire. He’d been with plenty of girls before, but he’d never been too big a
fan of making out. Seemed a dumb prelude to the main chapter. Now, he felt he’d
do anything to just kiss her once.

But she
didn’t need that. Didn’t need some soon-to-be dropout getting her heart all
twisted up, leading her down the wrong road. He could see the path of his life
before him, how crooked it was, compared to her straight-and-narrow. And,
though he generally didn’t give a shit about what his actions might do to other
people, especially girls, there was too much sweetness in Cass for him not to
care.

He dropped
her hand, shifting again in his seat, pushing it in closer to the desk to hide
his erection. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Cass look at her hand as
though it belonged to someone else, her face fire-engine red. She, too shifted
in her seat, crossing her legs tight.

“So, right,
Poland,” she said, her voice thick. She watched his eyes scan the words, knew
he still wasn’t really reading them.

She felt
distinctly uncomfortable, pressed her thighs closer together, a heat radiating
from her sex that she’d never experienced before. The image that had plagued
her more and more over time – their lips coming together, his hands wrapping
around her, his body pressed tight against hers – was trying to take over. She,
too, tried to read the words on the page, but they seemed to enter and leave
her brain in the same instant. She leaned in, as though being closer to the
page could help her focus. When she did, she could smell him, the slight
fragrance of his cologne mixed with a smell that reminded her of damp wood. Her
thighs clenched automatically, that heat sending a jolt through her. She pushed
herself back, terrified that he would somehow know.

“Listen,
let’s just cut it short today,” she said quickly. “You’re obviously dealing
with something and…”

As she
spoke, she yanked her messenger bag off the back of the chair and began to
stuff her papers and books together.

“Cass,
wait,” Thomas said, but she was already on her feet.

“Why don’t
you, uh, make an outline of everything we’ve been going over, a cheat sheet,
and, uh, we’ll talk about it on Thursday, okay?”

And with
that, she left, head down, her lungs opening in deep gasps as soon as she
stepped into the fresh air. The whole walk home, she tried to think of nothing.

But try as
she might, all she could think of was him.