Creed’s Honor by Simone Nicholls

Lounging on the couch with Ollie had been my plan until Ollie insisted on seeing Dad.

After she threw a tantrum, I gave in and went to the clubhouse. The little blonde minx ran right into Dad’s arms as soon as I opened the clubhouse door.

Now she was sitting on his lap as he played poker, and I was at the bar. Dad didn’t complain even though Ollie kept telling Kobra Dad’s cards. Kobra loved every second of it.

It was too early to drink, and I wasn’t interested in playing poker. My eyes were on the vodka and whiskey bottles, questioning, was it too early to drink?

“Deep in thought?”

I jumped since I hadn’t heard anyone approach me. My gaze ran over Creed. Part of me was surprised he was still in town. The other part of me wondered how he was doing. It was those intense, smouldering grey eyes that were locked on me that caused me to shift uncomfortably on the bar stool.

Creed Winston always could do crazy things to me. He made me feel emotions that I knew no other male could ever do. I would never fall fearlessly in love with another man as I had with him. Nor would a man ever be able to send my heart into shattering glass pieces—as he had. In some ways, Creed Winston had ruined all men for me because I was scared to love and scared of the loss that was sure to follow that loving feeling.

I forced a smile. “Just trying to weigh up if it is too early to drink.” I was honest with him and my thoughts. I watched as he allowed his gaze to travel over me, and when he looked me in the eyes again—I swear it was like he was looking at me with this longing lost look, which made completely no sense because he left me. And those three words, he left me, played over and over in my head, which resulted in my expression hardening on him.

He nodded his head but didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Sure, I wanted to know how he had been, but the fact was that when I thought we were heading into a future together, he chose the patch. When it came down to it, I was angry with myself. Mad that I thought Creed was different. But mainly furious with myself for thinking I would ever be enough for a man like him.

“So, I heard you got a job at the local hospital?” Creed questioned and didn’t just turn to leave like I was hoping. But my stomach didn’t painfully twist until he pulled the stool out beside me.

Fuck me. Great. We were going to have a conversation. Just be nice, Holly.

“Yeah, I did, in the emergency department,” I answered.

Why was he doing this! He knew I didn’t want to speak with him! Sure, I had put up a shield last night that I was “okay” with him. But I wasn’t. Not really. Not deep down. And right now, having a conversation with him wasn’t what I wanted.

He picked up a beer coaster and started flipping it around the edge, clearly nervous as shown by his fidgeting.

I sighed. Okay. I had to do it.

“How’s the president patch?” I asked, and I was legit surprised that the bitterness I felt inside did not leak into my tone. Even the small fake smile on my face would have made everyone think I was fine, including Creed.

His eyes went to mine.

“It is what it is,” he said and didn’t give any detail whatsoever on how he found being a president.

“Well, as long as you’re happy.” This time, the bitterness did creep into my tone, which frustrated me. I ran my fingers through my hair, all while trying to think of an excuse to leave.

“I missed you, Holly.” His words caused me to look back at him.

I just stared at him for a moment. The replies I could have said ran through my head. Instead of voicing one of them, I decided I should just get up and leave.

“So, are you going to keep giving me those killer cat eyes, or you going to just let me have it?” Creed said while staring at the beer coaster before looking me in the eyes. “Come on, darling, you and I both know you are smouldering with rage under that forced smile.”

The smile dropped from my face, and my eyes just locked on him. I couldn’t stop the glare—which caused him to crack a smirk.

“I’m not complaining, though. That little smile of yours is cute.” His eyes came back to mine. “But I don’t like seeing it forced.”

Don’t do it, Holly. Do not do it.

Creed had this way of getting in my head—really getting in my head. Like right now, his eyes were locked on mine, and my mind was running wild. Completely wild with rage. I thought I had moved on from what had happened, but staring at him right now made me question all that.

I stared at him a few more moments before I got up off the bar stool.

“Have a safe ride home, Creed.” And I didn’t glance back at him as I walked away. Ollie would be fine; she was with Dad and Kobra.

I, however, was not safe while breathing the same air as that man.

Walking out into the lot and heading for the back path, I was just about to walk past the garage when a firm grip grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side.

“Let go of me!”

Creed opened the garage door and pulled me in, closing it behind us. Then he stood firmly in front of my exit out.

“You’re pathetic,” I added, my heart racing but my rage for him overpowered my common sense because the fact that the roller doors could be opened had escaped me. “So, what, your plan is to lock me in the garage?”

“Seeing as you won’t have a real conversation with me, fucking oath I will.” He crossed his arms, his ripped muscles bludging—the tattoos on display that I once ran my fingers over. I could barely take in the new ink on his arms. All I could think of, over and over, was that he left. He fucking left. He never answered his phone. He never answered one of my million voice messages. He just left my life—completely.

“Holly—”

“Don’t Holly me!” My hands balled into fists at my side. “You got on that bloody bike and rode out. Not just out of town but out of my fucking life!” My frustration, my boiling red pain, flooded my body. “You never replied to a message, one of the many miss calls!” I scoffed. “Fuck, it wouldn’t even surprise me if you hadn’t even listened to the voice messages!”

So standing in a garage where Creed and I had spent most of our time together, I broke.

“Holly—”

“You nearly destroyed me,” I hissed, staring into his eyes, my voice cracking, and if he couldn’t hear my pain in those words, then he was as cold as I thought he was. “And now you want to have a conversation?” I scoffed, wiping tears off my cheeks. “Fuck, Creed, I can’t look at you—let alone talk to you—without wishing I had never let you in!”

When it came down to it, the anger I felt, the loathing—it was all directed at myself.

I felt my body trembling.

I felt my blood swirling with the cold truth.

I shook my head. “I take that back, Creed. You didn’t nearly destroy me…”

I stared into his smouldering ash-grey eyes. My eyes filled with tears, then blinking, the tears ran down my cheeks. The months after he left now replayed in my head.

“You did destroy me. But it wasn’t when you rode out, no—it was three months later.”

Was this what he wanted to hear? Was this the conversation he wanted? Well, it was the only one he was getting.

“It was when I was sitting in my father’s bar, feeling like a hollow mess. Not being allowed to be by myself. I had to be there.” I wiped my hands across my cheeks, inhaling sharply. “After I had spent the last three months praying to feel again, to want to live”—I took a step closer to him—“when a visiting club girl was boasting to Red that she had just locked down the VP of the North.”

I smiled, sickly, remembering how I felt at that moment.

“I listened to her go on and on about how much of a great guy he was. And how the sex was amazing.” I just continued to stare at him, feeling the hollowness I’d felt in those moments years ago flood me. “And that’s when I stopped praying for myself to feel something. That’s when I realised I wasn’t the one to be falling to my knees, praying. No.” I locked my gaze on him, the tears slowing. “After everything, Creed, I realised—you are the one that needs fucking help.”

He was staring at me, deadly silent.

I inhaled sharply.

“You are fucking toxic, and I doubt God can even save you from your ways.” I wiped the last tear away from my cheek and dropped my eyes. “I can barely control my monsters. The last thing I need is a toxic person giving them power and feeding them.”

My eyes flashed off the grease-stained concrete and back to him. Creed Winston. He didn’t have one emotion on his face.

“Do you want me to say I forgive you? Because I do, Creed.”

The rage I felt, it wasn’t under control, but I knew. Once I walked out that garage door, he wouldn’t want to have another conversation with me. This, right here, was it—the end of the line for him and me.

I let out a sigh. I felt exhausted.

That was when he did the last thing I would have expected. He took two steps towards me. My eyes flashed back to him.

There was nothing he could say that would undo how I felt back then, and now? No soft sweet words would smooth the damage.

I saw his mouth parting, and I knew he was about to speak—and that sent pure panic through me. Because what if his words did make me forget? What if he did change my mind? What if I were lying to myself saying I would never love him again?

Before a word came off his lips, I took advantage of the fact he wasn’t standing in front of the door, and I moved around him so quickly, it stunned him. I pushed open that steel door so fast that my head was spinning from my sudden movements.

I made a beeline for the house, basically running up the path. Why was I acting like this? Why was I panicking? Why was I nearly running in the opposite direction? Because I felt it. I fucking felt it again, even after everything he had put me through, after all the chaos that was him and me. I was standing there, looking into his smouldering ash-grey eyes just before he was about to speak, and my heart pulsed an emotion I didn’t want to feel ever again—especially not for him.

So as I pushed open my family’s front door, tears filling my eyes again, I had to face the fact. I still loved Creed Winston. What the hell was wrong with me? My heart was blinded to all the pain he had made me feel. I thought I had stopped loving him. Now I had to face it. I still loved Creed, even after the heartbreak, the endless nights crying, the hollowness that he cast over me, which suffocated me for months. It was undeniable. My love for Creed had caused insanity within me—because a sane woman wouldn’t feel what I felt for him.

So the fact was, I was insanely in love with Creed Winston. And if him breaking me didn’t stop me from loving him, then nothing would. He was toxic, and I was addicted, and that hit me as I slid down our front door, my head falling to my knees. What the fuck was wrong with me?