The motel is a dump, but at least the shower works, and it’s not like I plan on staying here. I’m gritty-eyed from the two days’ hard ride from L.A. and really need to crash for a few hours, but there’s no way I can sleep until I’ve seen Jas.
I scrub a hand over my face, but it doesn’t help with the headache or the ice pick lodged in my chest. I’ve no idea how she’ll react when she sees me. Did the week we spent together mean as much to her as it did to me? Or was it like we first agreed and nothing but a long, final goodbye?
With everything that happened in the past, my chances of persuading her that we need to spend our lives together aren’t great. I should’ve called her during the week, let her know my plans, but I couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t risk her telling me,It’s over, Ty. I don’t want you anymore.
Not that it’d make any difference. No matter what happens today, my life is here in Florida, now.
Even wearing my shades, I grimace at the late afternoon sunlight as I walk outside. Can’t even blame a hangover. I haven’t touched alcohol in a week. I glance at my Harley, but the law office where Jas works is only a few blocks from here, and I sure could do with the walk.
The area isn’t bad, but there are no sleek office blocks or luxury hotels, just regular small businesses trying to keep afloat, and on the other side of the street, sandwiched between a convenience store and a fast food outlet, is her workplace.
I stand on the sidewalk as uncertainty gnaws through me. For a week I’ve lived on adrenaline and fury, spurred on by guilt and regret. I’ve burned bridges, turned my back on my president, and destroyed every last relic Viper left behind.
No one tried to stop me when I smashed the framed photos of him in the clubhouse, or came near me when I hacked his fucking cut to shreds in the yard. No one asked why, but I guess you don’t argue with an ax-wielding Bastard.
While savage satisfaction blazed through me as I destroyed his memory, it didn’t touch the raw despair deep inside.
Nothing I do will ever heal that. But maybe, if Jas can forgive me, it won’t cripple me with every breath I take.
“I used to think it didn’t matter that I’d never be first in your life but guess what? It does matter. I won’t be second to an MC or, let’s be honest, third after your blood family.”
She was always first. But I never told her. If I had, would she have confided in me that night instead of keeping it locked inside and feeling like she had no choice but to run?
My hands fist, and I suck in a tortured breath. I’ll never know. I cross the street and come to a halt outside the wire-meshed glass door. There’s no going back in time, no chance of a do-over. All I can do right now is show her that when it comes to the world, she’s my number one.
For a second I’m frozen at what I’m about to do. It goes against everything I’ve been brought up with. It’s something I never dreamed I’d even contemplate, but it’s the only way to make her see me the way she needs to.
I roll back my shoulders and, with slow deliberation, peel my vest off my back. It’s like I’ve scraped off half my skin and I’m vulnerable, floating loose, unconnected to the bedrock of my existence.
It’s fucking terrifying.
I push open the door and step inside. The waiting room is almost empty but it doesn’t stop the paranoid clawing beneath my skin that everyone’s staring at me. It’s insane, because I’m used to strangers giving me the side-eye, but that’s because of my colors, and I’ve never given it a second thought before.
It doesn’t matter. I stroll across the floor as though I own the place, but before the beefy security guard intercepts me, Jas walks into the room.
My heart slams against my ribs. Her hair is pulled up on top of her head, and she looks so damn tired I just want to pull her into my arms and never let her go.
“Ty?” She sounds like she can’t believe her eyes, but she gives the guard a small smile and he backs off. I stand right in front of her, and her gaze is riveted on the vest that’s hanging over my arm. “Has something happened?” Her voice drops to a whisper, and she brushes her fingertips over the leather as though she needs to convince herself of what she’s seeing.
“Yeah. You could say that.”
Her hand drops to her side. “What’re you doing here?” She glances back at my cut as though she can’t help herself. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”
Is it my imagination or is there a note of panic in her voice? She grew up on the fringes of the Bastards. She knows the rules. It’s why I’m hoping, more than I’ve hoped for anything in my life before, that she’ll finally see what she’s always meant to me.
My throat’s as dry as dust, my palms are sweaty, and I can’t push the damn words out. I stare at her like a fool while my heart cracks open at all the wasted years between us. All because ten years ago I was too fucking proud to ride across the country after her and open my eyes to the truth.
“You were never third.” My voice is rough. “If it comes down to a choice between you and the Bastards, Christ, Jas, that’s no choice at all. It’s always you.”
The silence eats into me. Everyone’s staring, and any other time that alone would kill me. But I don’t care what they fucking think or do.She’sall that matters. She’s the only one who ever has.
She bites her bottom lip, and her beautiful brown eyes glitter with what look suspiciously like tears. I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Hell can’t be worse than this.
She clears her throat. “We can’t talk out here.” She hesitates for a second before taking my hand and leading me through the security door and into a small kitchen. She shuts the door behind us and lets out a ragged breath.
“I’d never ask you to choose between the Bastards and me. I don’t know why…” Her voice trails away, but she doesn’t pull her hand free.
