As I start to take a swig, she says eight words that change my fucking life.
“That was Danica. You fucked her, not me.” I choke and sputter as Haven takes pity on me and pats my back.
“WHAT?”
I shake my head as the memories surface on command. The way she smelled, the taste of her lip gloss, the way I questioned the tan lines she didn’t have days before, but she had been sunbathing. The texture of her hair was wrong; I thought it was the fresh dye job.
The bottle slips through my hands and smashes on the kitchen floor.
“Oh God.”
2
HAVEN
Yup, that went as well as I expected it to go.
Joel barely got to the sink before he started to puke. I tap my fingers on the kitchen counter as I lament the whiskey pooling around my heels.
What a waste of booze.
Sighing, I find the mop, bucket, and broom so I can start cleaning up the mess while Joel comes to terms with the fact that Danica fooled him. She robbed us both of that night. But he’s been looking back on it fondly for years, versus me hating him for not being able to tell the fucking difference.
But with age comes wisdom, and I know in a dark room and teenage hormones, there was no way in hell he could have known what she did. Maybe now wasn’t the right time to tell him, but dammit, he had asked!
“I’m sorry. I should have waited to tell you the truth. Today was the worst timing ever.” I admit as I sweep up the glass.
“Haven, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know.” I hold up my hand to stop his words.
“I forgave you long ago. It took me a few years to realize you were also a victim of Danica’s manipulative ways. She changedin the end, so I’ve forgiven her, too. I hope she finds peace.” He shakes his head as my words sink in.
“She’s dead?” I take a deep breath and nod.
“We need to sit down and talk. About our past and present. Our lives are going to cross more often than not.” I can see the confusion in his eyes.
“I’m a Harlot, Joel. Or should I call you Cable now?” I point at his cut hanging on the coat rack, new and pristine.
“What?”
I smile gently and point at the sofa.
“Sit. I’ll make tea since you wasted the whiskey.” I ignore his scowl and move around his gran’s house like I own the place.
Memories of summers spent in this house rush back to me while I grab her old kettle to fill with tap water. I hear the stool scrape against the aging floor behind my back.
“How the hell did you get involved with a biker club?” I turn off the tap and move to the stove as I let out a noisy breath.
“That is a long ass story that I’d rather not get into. Let’s just say I inherited Danica’s problems.” I turn the stove on and set the kettle on the flame.
“Some things never change.”
I can’t disagree with him, so I just turn to face him with a shrug of my shoulders.
“This one I’m not too mad about. Anyway, this is about you. How the fuck did the Bastards get their claws into you?” I cross my arms and lean back into the counter, listening for the kettle to shudder since Joel has gone quiet.
“Cat got your tongue?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not sure what I should and shouldn’t tell you.” I nod in understanding.
