It Ain't Me, Babe - Page 84/126

“Gonna pr-protect y-you,” I assured, cutting her off.

“I know you will,” she asserted and tucked herself into my side.

A f**kin’ sinking feeling dropped in my gut. I could always feel when something weren’t right. I’d had the feeling since Mae turned up; it was even stronger now.

“What about you?” Mae whispered, her fingers stroking down my tensed bicep.

“Wh-what?”

“Your mother? What happened to her? Who was she?”

I let out a single laugh. “Club slut. L-left my old m-man for the Di-Diablo scum.”

“Diablo?” she questioned, confused.

“M-Mexican MC. Rivals. Been at war ever s-since. My old man k-killed my mother wh-when I was ten. Sanchez, their P-Prez, killed my old man l-last year. I killed Sanchez t-two days later.”

Propping herself on my shoulder with her hand, Mae’s expression was sad. “You have led such a turbulent life. Surrounded by so much death. I have always wondered why you had Hades as your emblem, the devil. I saw the mural when I arrived. It is such a strange thing to worship.”

“Not in th-this l-life.”

She raised her ebony eyebrows and my lips twitched. Rolling her to the side, I moved off the bed and kicked my legs over the side.

“Where are you going? You need rest. You are still injured, remember!” she protested.

I waved my hand in dismissal. I reached for her black robe and threw it at her. “P-put it on.”

She eyed me curiously as I slipped on my jeans. I stood and held out my hand, leading her down the back staircase to the yard.

I led her out of the door and into the summer night’s breeze, the crickets singing and not much else about. Her eyes resembled a deer’s in headlights as she scoped the outside of the clubhouse. Too much shit’d happened of late to make Mae feel safe out here. A large fence kept us in, barbed wire lining the top, cameras perched on every corner post for protection. The bike shop sat on the corner, brothers’ Harley’s and Choppers lined up in front.

I pulled gently on Mae’s arm. “Th-this way.”

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and let me lead her to the west side of the yard. I felt her falter in her step when she saw the mural again.

Bringing her back to my chest, I placed my hands on her shoulders and leaned in to her ear. “I want y-you to meet H-Hades and P-Persephone, his w-w-wife.”

A small sigh escaped her lips and she treaded forward on light feet, neck bent back, staring up at the painting, in awe—no, at the goddess in awe. I stepped back, giving her space, and folded my arms across my chest unable to stop watching her.

Mae lifted her hand and ran her fingers across Persephone’s pale face. “We were not allowed pictures or paintings in commune. They were regarded to be false idols, yet I have never seen anything more beautiful than this portrait of her. Persephone is beautiful.” Mae looked back at me and smiled a wide smile showcasing perfect teeth. She turned back to trace the outline of the goddess’s long black hair.

Fuck. I was pu**y-whipped.

Mae turned once more, looking at me from under the shade of her lashes. She had a confused expression on her face. “The goddess looks like me. She has my color eyes.”

I stepped forward to stand beside Mae. “That day, wh-when I saw you, you re-reminded me of her. St-stuck with me all th-these years.”

Mae’s silence spoke volumes. I shuffled my feet, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “You kn-know who the r-rest of the p-people are on this p-painting?”

She pointed at the central figure, all soulless eyes and dark robes, a slight tremor to her voice. “Hades. I know him to be Satan.” Her lips pursed and that adorable scowl of hers was back. “He looks just like how the devil is described in scripture.”

I signaled in the direction of the brown bench across the yard.

“Sit.”

Mae followed my instruction and we headed to my favorite spot—opposite the mural, a place I liked to sit, smoke, and think. ’Course it used to be to think of her. Didn’t tell her that, though, or how f**kin’ weird it was that she was now sitting beside me.

Tiredly, Mae sat down, checking her robe was in place, her legs primly bent, and her hands on her knees before leaning into me.

“You h-heard of the Gr-Greeks?”

“Yes, a small amount. I imagine now that it is not much. I have realized of late that what little we were taught in commune about life outside the fence was false.”

Smirking, I answered, “Th-the ancient Greeks d-didn’t just believe in one g-god. They b-believed in m-many.”