Ace: His Angel (Phoenix Riders MC 1)

50: Late Night Thoughts

Ace POV

We sat in the kitchen until Angel's butt went numb. Standing, I offered her my hand. She stared at it, unsure as she shook, and tears swam in her eyes. And there was nothing I could do. But something changed. Angel's face went stone cold, turning herself off, and took my hand.

Watching her shut down, becoming an empty body, terrified me. She did it too easily, and I never wanted to see it happen again. As soon as she stood on her own, she let go and headed for the stairs.

I stood two steps behind her as she took each painful step, and her breathing became labored. If Angel, or her body, would've let me carry her up the stairs, I would've. Each time I reached out to steady her, she tensed, and I reminded myself it wasn't personal.

Trauma is different for everyone. Healing and responding in different ways. But if Kaitlyn continues to keep it inside, it will kill her. I can't stand by and watch because it will kill me.

Images of Kaitlyn dying every time Noah touched her seared into my brain. Fear consumed her in that room and every night in her nightmares, waking up in a sweat, screaming. Healing isn't an overnight process, but I hope she gives herself time and a fair chance.

Once Kaitlyn was under the covers, I let out a sigh of relief. But before I could sit down, Whiskey knocked on the door and handed me the notebook.

"How are you doing?" he asked Kaitlyn.

"Honestly, I don't- I don't know. I hurt everywhere, and Noa-" she stopped, and her eyes glazed over, reliving the nightmare. Her chest made minuscule movements, as if the air was caught in her lungs. Thirty seconds. Fucking breathe Angel!

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "Angel, listen to me."

She barely nodded. "I need you to breathe, okay? Breathe with me. In," I drew a slow breath in, "and out." After a few breaths, the blue tint on her lips faded, and I could breathe.

"I'm sorry... I..." Whiskey stammered, regretting asking. Whiskey is a good friend to Kaitlyn, and they are great for one another. But it's not always easy to watch.

"After what I went through, I question everything. What he said...what Azzaro said...it's true," Kaitlyn whispered, more to herself than us.

That fucker didn't care about her. He's the one who did this to her! She needs to get that shit out of her head.

My anger boiled, and Whiskey caught on and stayed to make sure I wouldn't explode. However, I would never do that to Angel. Eventually, my body relaxed, and Whiskey said his goodbyes, leaving us alone.

Kaitlyn glanced at the notebook. I'd seen it in our room at the clubhouse, but I didn't want to pry and break her trust. I hoped in time she would tell me, and maybe now she was ready. Angel shifted, sitting up, and a hiss left her mouth, pain written all over her face. And I am useless.

Look at her. She can barely move! She deserves better than you. It's time to walk away, and we both know it. - Hellhound

No, I can't do that to her. I would rather suffer every day than leave her, knowing it would ruin her. She may deserve better, but leaving now would break her.

"The night you and Kyle went out, I couldn't sleep so, I wrote. Normally, I don't share my writings, but you're hurting, and I want to help. We aren't where we were before, and I can't promise we will be again. I'm sorry, Ace," she said as a tear slipped out. "If you could please just...there are other things..."

Her beautiful green eyes begged for understanding but looked away as her anxiety rose. I understood; she didn't have to tell me. Her thoughts and words are everything to her, and sharing them with me means the world.

"Thank you," I whispered. "I'll keep it safe."

Kaitlyn smiled, getting into a more comfortable position, but every move sounded more painful than the last. "What hurts, Angel? How can I help?" I asked.

"Everything. Unfortunately. Not much you can do," she whispered, her eyes drifting close.

I pulled up the blankets and moved to the edge of the bed, giving her space, but still there if she woke up. Kaitlyn's breathing evened out, and I played with her hair, unable to keep my hands off her. I need to respect her boundaries and wishes, but her touch gives me peace.

A few hours later, I heard Killer walk in and I grabbed the notebook before heading downstairs. He nodded to me, and I offered him a beer, but he declined. Between interrogating his father and being here for Kaitlyn, he looked like shit, and I'm sure I didn't look any better.

Killer towered over me, not giving me an inch of breathing room, and I knew he was speaking to me as Kaitlyn's brother. "I know you're struggling. You love her, but right now, she needs space, and you will give it to her. I don't care what she says, you will not be alone with her. Do I make myself clear?"

I gave a curt nod, knowing we shouldn't be alone together. Not yet.

He glanced at the notebook. "I don't know what's in there, but I know it's important to her. If she's sharing it with you, then just know she is still fighting for this, and you can't quit on her now."

Killer left me, heading straight for Kaitlyn's room, and I grabbed the notebook off the counter and sat on the couch. I reminded myself she wrote this before everything happened. They may have rung true at one point, and we may get back to it, but for now, I will wait.

"Tenth page in. - Kaitlyn."

Stopping, I saw my name at the top. Angel wrote four pages of things she loved about me, what she'd noticed, and everything in between. About bout the small things that mattered to her, things she wanted me to know. How she preferred sorbet over ice cream and almond butter to peanut butter, and how her favorite place is overlooking the ocean with me.

Every word in her notebook gave me hope. Hope that one day we will reach this point again. I never thought a woman would change my empty, stone heart into one filled with love, but she has. All I want is a long life with Angel. My love; my only.

However, the last few lines caught my eye. I reread them, memorizing every word.

"Love happens three times in your life. First, your first love. It's a 'picture perfect' love you see in movies. But reality comes in like a sack of bricks. The second love seems perfect and what you are looking for. You fall hard, hoping this is the one. The one who won't break your heart. But timing is everything, and it was wrong.

The third love, however, is a forever love. The one whose timing is perfect, and far succeeds your ideas. It scares you, gives you hope, and makes you realize why the others were never truly yours. You Sam, you're my third love. You will always be my forever."

A tear slid down my face. You're my forever too, Angel.