“You should have gone and seen her years ago when we got back from the special forces.”
“I have seen her,” I point out, though I know what he’s talking about.
“No, like in person, instead of stalking her.”
My lip twitches, though I try my best not to smile. “It’s not stalking. I go a few times a year to check up on her. I like to know that she’s doing okay.”
I have resisted the urge to go to her and talk to her. But she’s set up a new life, one without me in it. She doesn’t come home because of her grief, and I could never ask her to stay in a place that strongly affects her. She seems a lot better than she was, and her well-being will always be more important than my own.
“Ah, yoo-hoo?”
I blink twice, Viper coming back into view. “Sorry, I was out of it.”
“Women do that to ya.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And how would you know? Have you even been in a relationship before?” I ask. Axle walks toward us.
Viper snorts. “I’m not stupid!”
Axle sits beside me with a wide smile, looking at Viper. “I strongly disagree.”
Viper points to his patch. “I’m smart. See this patch? VP, motherfucker.”
“That’s because you love sucking Reaper’s dick,” Axle says, flicking his balled fist to his mouth in a jerking-off motion.
Viper’s grin spreads. “You’re a bastard!”
Axle laughs and slaps the table.
My lips mash together as I try not to laugh at these idiots.
Axle’s jaw drops.
“What?” I ask.
He stands and leans over, touching my forehead with his hand. “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I shove his hands off of me.
“He’s smiling because he finally gets to see his girl,” Viper says.
My eyes narrow at Viper’s big mouth. Though I would give anything to call her mine.
“What girl?” Axle asks. He clears his throat, giving me a pointed look. “What girl?”
The only one.
All those years watching her from afar, now I can see her, touch her, and—if she can forgive me—be with her again.
After sparring with Viper,Axle, and Rage, I’m freshly showered and lying on my bed, thinking about Zara. I lived and breathed her. Who I was pales compared to what I have become. There’s no going back because I can’t erase the past, but every day away from her felt like I was dying a little each day.
I’ve missed the feel of Zara’s silky hair cascading through my fingers, the scent of her perfume, and the taste of her lips. Everything about her. Each time I saw her, a pang of regret stung my chest, followed by self-loathing. I shouldn’t regret putting her well-being above my own feelings, but every day without her has been a struggle.
After she left, my life revolved around the military, then I got into the special forces and now the MC. I have meaningless sex with escorts to fill the void.
Time may have moved on, but I haven’t moved on from her. I can’t, and I’ve never wanted to. Every time I left Zara to come back home to the MC, I consumed myself with work. Being the sergeant at arms is easy because without Zara in my life, I have no heart or any real moral compass. I enjoy hurting others—it’s a reprieve from my pain. That’s what Demon and I have in common: fucked-up pasts. I lost only one person; I don’t know how he deals with his whole family dying. Demon is the enforcer, my right-hand man that protects patch members and the club.
The smell of cooked food wafts into my room. Reaper’s ol’ lady, Ava, can cook! I was unsure about her at the beginning, but despite how much pain she’s been through with her ex-husband, she still is friendly to everyone. She reminds me of Zara.
