Read Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) Online
Authors: MariaLisa deMora
“Beautiful, you’re right, and if there are consequences, we’ll be okay. I love you, and its okay if you don’t feel the same way yet, but I love you. Nothing can happen that will change that.” He reached out and stroked the back of his fingers down her face. “Smile, baby. If nothing happens, we need to sort out birth control, because I don’t like the look on your face, and I would move mountains to not have it there again. I’m sorry; I was so caught up in the moment with you that safe sex was the last thing on my mind, but I plan on us being together for a very long time. A long term commitment doesn’t scare me.”
He stroked her cheek again. “I get from your expression that it scares you. I don’t want you to be afraid of anything, so we’ll sort out birth control,” Daniel leaned in and kissed her softly, “but for now, let me take care of you.” Moving the sheet to the side, and carefully using the still-warm cloth to wash between her legs, he asked, “Good?” and saw her nod in response.
He took the cloth back to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror for a moment and looking at himself. “You forgot the condom? Seriously?” Shaking his head, he washed and dried his hands. Back in the bedroom, he slid into bed behind her, wrapping a hard arm around her waist and pulling her tightly back into him.
“We’ll be okay,” she said to him, “but we won’t forget again; promise me.”
“I promise, Mica,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Daniel, but I’m not ready to talk about it a lot. This is the one shot you get at hearing it, so make sure you are listening. I. Love. You. I do; I love you.” She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling it up and kissing the back of his fingers. “I love you,” she whispered, tucking his hand under her chin.
“I’ll take it, beautiful,” he whispered back. “Thank you, baby.”
After Christmas, things were really good between them. There was no consequence for the forgotten condom, and they had sorted birth control, as he had put it. Daniel found it hard to stay away from Mica, and for the first time in his life, something came before hockey.
They talked casually about long-term plans for housing and where to live. He was determined to keep her forever, and while she loved where she lived next to Mason, Daniel’s house had its own charms.
Weeks went by, and his feelings for her deepened every day. His love for Mica grew until she was all he could think about, and he wanted her with him always. He wanted to marry her, put a ring on her finger, fill her belly with his babies, and wake up beside her each morning for the rest of his life.
Daniel talked to Mason; he felt like the biker was the closest thing to family she had in Chicago. Revealing his sentiments, he saw approval on Mason’s face and smiled at him. “I love her, Mason. She’s necessary to me. I want to marry her.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out the red leather ring box. “I love her,” he repeated as he slid the box across the bar. Mason picked it up and opened it, seeing the ring Daniel had gotten made for her. The tasteful ring had three diamonds mounted in diagonal position along the white gold band.
“Is there significance to the ring?” asked Mason.
“Yeah,” Daniel breathed out, “my breath, my heart, my life…it’s what she means to me.”
“She’ll love it, Daniel.” Mason reached across the bar and clapped a hand on his shoulder, rocking him back on the stool. “When are you going to ask her, man?” he queried. “I hope you do it soon, put us all out of our misery watching you moon after her all the time.”
“When we get home from Rockford. I’m going to ask her then,” Daniel said.
Mason nodded and clinked the rim of his mug against Daniel’s. “Congrats, Daniel, Mica Rupert has a ring to it.”
43 -
Love hurts
Daniel watched Jason score with a tough shot, flipping the puck on its edge and slapping it into the top-right corner of the net, just over the top of the goalie’s pad with a flawless wrist shot. He grinned widely at Jason, who had raised his stick over his head in both hands, with an expression of pure joy on his face.
Daniel skated onto the ice and across, to where several of their teammates already had Jason in a tight clinch. Wrapping his arms around the group, Daniel threw himself backwards, taking them all down to the ice with a shout. The Mallets were on fire tonight, and the Rockford team couldn’t seem to do anything right.
Coach called everyone to the bench for a quick chat. He was nervously pacing back and forth with his hands in the pockets of his pants, his suit jacket and tie swinging back and forth with his abrupt turns. They had just begun the third period, and were ahead by two goals. They’d had two guys injured earlier though, so now they had players subbing in for extra shifts. Everyone was getting tired. Coach wanted them to get their heads back into the game, and to hold it together through the end.
Grabbing a water bottle, Daniel thumped Jason’s helmet affectionately, rocking his head back and forth. “Nice, clean goal, man. That was pretty, Jase.”
Gary shouted, “Who knew he could score?” laughing and joking with them both.
They watched the play in front of them, scrutinizing the response from their teammates as an opposing player dominated, controlling the puck down the ice. Daniel nodded as the player dumped the puck around the low end of the rink, seeing their teammates get between the play and the goal. Jumping up, the trio headed into another shift.
Daniel shouted at his team, “Talk, chatter, get it on net!” reminding them to communicate and shoot. He knew the basics were the first to go by the wayside as players got tired. “Can’t score if you don’t shoot!”
The tipoff went their way, the puck kept by a forward, sent across rink to Daniel. He popped the puck into the corner, chasing it hard across the ice. Skating around the back of the net to grab the rebound, he didn’t see the defenseman coming in behind him. He barely had time to hear Jason’s shout before a hit knocked him hard into the boards. Daniel felt his helmet pop hard against the glass, then off his head, and saw the blood smearing down the glass.
Turning short, he grabbed the jersey of the opposing player who had pile drove him, throwing him up against the boards and shaking off his gloves. Loudly shouting about the bad hit, his teammates clustered around the two men. The waves of dark and light jerseys ebbing and flowing as Daniel clinched tight to the guy, powering body hit after body hit into his ribs and kidneys.
He knew he was taking hits too, but wasn’t feeling them. Gary yanked him backwards, as the Rockford captain helped the officials pull the other guy in the opposite direction.
Daniel went with Gary for a second, and then spun back quickly to get back at the player, still pissed beyond thought. They clinched again, holding jerseys and struggling to stay on their skates to prolong the action. They traded punches to the body and face until the linesmen finally broke it up.
That hadn’t been the first sucker hit Daniel had taken that night from Klozasnc, and he thought it was worth a visit to the penalty box to get his point across. He waved at the bench as the guys pounded their sticks against the boards in protest; they’d all seen the bad hit.
Jason sat next to him in the box; apparently, he’d gotten into the fight too. Even with the two of them off the ice, they were still on a power play, because there were three Rockford players in the box as well. “Way to use your face, Daniel. Get your head out of your ass, Captain. She can’t come to every game,” Jason muttered as they watched the penalty timer count down.
“You should have gotten to the medic before you came in here,” Jason said as Daniel spit a mouthful of blood into the bucket in the corner of the box. “Your nose looks broken, man,” he shook his head, “and it looks like you need superglue on that lip.”
“Get ready,” Daniel said tensely, preparing to exit the box as fast as possible when the attendant opened the door.
Earlier in the game, Daniel would’ve probably been less reactive to the hit, and then to Jason’s mother hen routine. Then, during the last break, he had finally realized the source of his bad mood. He had looked expectantly up into the suite glass, and then remembered she wasn’t up there watching him play. Mica wouldn’t come to this game. Not couldn’t, as in had a conflict, but she
wouldn’t
come. Standing up in the penalty box, Daniel shook his head. Everything had been good; everything was great…until yesterday.
She had stayed with him until yesterday, when she had moved back to her house. After nearly three months of waking up to her being in his bed and in his life
every day, he missed her, and it was a strong, immovable pain in his chest.
She was good with his family—better than good really, since she seemed to bond with both J.J. and Darlene. It made him happy to see her face light up when his mother called her simply to chat. She was even good, eventually, with living in his expensive home in an exclusive neighborhood. She was appreciative of the security the community afforded, and seemed to enjoy the proximity of restaurants and entertainment in the area. He thought they’d settle in his house, but now she had moved back home.
The only problem, the one thing she said she couldn’t handle was the hockey. At first, she agonized through the multiple games each week, using her lips and fingers to trace the bruises and scrapes across his body in the aftermath each time. She mirrored what she had done in the car after seeing him play that first time. She had seemed a little squeamish about his injuries that first night, but after Nelms’ attack, her tolerance for the results of the in-game violence had rapidly diminished.
Gradually, over the weeks, her distaste for the intrinsic fierceness of the game had solidified. They talked often, discussing and arguing back and forth about why hockey was violent, why it had to be violent to stay true to the game that had begun on frozen ponds and rivers, and how much it all mattered to him. He thought it was simply a discussion until yesterday, when he came home from talking to Mason, and she was sitting on the stairs inside the front door, her bag at her feet.
She had told him, “I’m not going to Rockford, Daniel. I’m going home for a few days. I need to wrap my head around,” she waved her hands in the air, “everything.” He had asked her why, because this felt a great deal more final to him than her simply going home for a few days.
She responded, “I was always the kid who jumped from the hayloft on a dare, rode the rankest horses, and jumped into the catch-pen full of pasture-fresh cattle to push out the one we needed...risk-adverse I am not, and never have been,” pausing for a minute, she faced him, “so I understand where you are coming from, Daniel. I get that you need to play hard and aggressively. I really do get it, but I don’t have to watch it, wincing and flinching with every hit you take. It twists me up in knots to see it going on. I’m sorry.”
With that, she stood, reaching out and touching his face gently. Dropping her hand, she turned, walked out, got into her Nissan, and drove away. He was caught flatfooted, never expecting she’d leave like that. He couldn’t catch his breath or say anything; the warmth of her hand on his face faded, and his heart stuttered in his chest.
He had called Mason, who had cussed him out and hung up on him. Slate called him back within a minute and told him there would be Rebels waiting for her on her porch, making sure she was safe. Then, he cussed Daniel out and hung up on him too.
Jason slapped his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. “Three seconds,” he warned him as the attendant prepared to open the door. Daniel spit another mouthful of blood into the bucket. He grabbed his stick and stood up to skate back onto the ice, snarling through the glass at Klozasnc standing in the Rockford penalty box. He couldn’t wait to get back at it with him.
***
It was quiet in the locker room; the team knew with the playoffs breathing down their necks they couldn’t afford to give the points to Rockford, but that’s exactly what had happened. With Daniel’s attitude, he’d spent long minutes in the penalty box, leaving them shorthanded on the ice, allowing Rockford to score three goals on power plays.
“Goddammit, we sucked tonight,” Jas
on growled as he walked past Daniel and Gary on his way to the shower.
Daniel shook his head
. “I sucked, man. You guys just picked up on my shitty attitude.” He reached a hand up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need a drink. Who’s with me?”
44 -
Brotherly love
Leaning over to look at the caller ID on the office phone, Jess yelled across to the conference room, “J.J. calling again,” and reached out her hand.
Mica’s head snapped up, and she looked at Jess with a desperate expression through the doorway, begging, “Don’t pick it up. Just let him leave a message.”
Frowning at her, Jess snagged the handset, “MishMash, Jess speaking. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
“I’m not here, Jess,” she pleaded in a stage whisper. “Tell him I’m not here.”
“Mica? Yeah, she’s right here, sec to transfer,” Jess scowled at her. “Pick up the phone, Mica. This has gone on long enough.” Punching in buttons to transfer the call, Jess frowned at her again as the phone on the conference table began to ring. “Pick up the fucking phone, girly,” was snarled her way as she slammed the door closed.
Slapping the pick-up button on the phone and taking a deep breath, she answered, “This is Mica.”