Satan groaned.
“Look, if I wanted to deal with high school drama, I would have become a PE teacher or some shit and watched awkward boys try and look athletic for cute girls in class. You’re a fucking adult. He’s a fucking adult. If you two can’t figure it out, then I don’t give a shit, but don’t fucking interfere with the mission at hand. You got it?”
Loud and clear. No fucking excuses.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Good,” Satan said, drawing a breath. “With that all said, Spawn, there is something from your past I need to talk to you about, and I need to do it now before Sonny is here.”
That was…unexpected. I legitimately had no idea where this was going, and that made me a little unsettled.
“He’s not gonna take it well, but anyway. You remember that girl you dated, Melissa?”
Melissa Cook.
How the fuck could I forget her?
I didn’t make many mistakes in life. I admitted to even fewer mistakes. I apologized for practically no mistakes, but there was one that, if given the chance, I would.
And that was how my relationship with Melissa had gone.
She was beautiful in a way that other girls were not—others might have been hotter, with tanner faces, bigger tits, and firmer asses, but no one had that grace or presence that Melissa did. I had gone for her first because I wanted to show to the boys I could get someone who wasn’t a club bunny, but what followed was a real relationship that I’d never had before or since. Melissa got under my skin in the best way possible because she saw what lay beneath the surface.
Unfortunately, I only realized this after the fucking fact because as she got to know me better—or tried to, anyway—I pushed back. I lashed out. I got crass and dickish. And when she broke up with me, I was crushed and continued pestering her, to the point that she moved out of state.
Yes, I could fuck up.
Yes, I could even admit it with Melissa Cook.
But I sure as shit had given her as little thought as possible. That had happened, what, two years ago now? I’d slammed my fair share of ass since then. I’d moved on.
“What about it?” I said.
“I’m dating her sister. Like, for real. I won’t sleep with any club bunnies. We’re serious. Sonny’s not going to take it really well for obvious reasons when he finds out, but I need to tell you, Spawn, because I made a promise to Hailey when I committed to her. I told her that I’d have a chat with you about how things ended.”
Oh, Jesus. What happened to leaving high school shit behind? And yes, I knew that what happened with Melissa was not in high school.
“I’m not going to tell you here that you need to throw yourself at Melissa’s feet and beg forgiveness. Fuck that. You’re still a Devil’s Patriot, remember that. But I am telling you that there’s a difference between being an asshole and being an ass, and you crossed that line with Melissa.”
“I know.”
He sighed.
“Last fucking thing I want to do is have the club do some stupid ass sexual harassment seminar. All I’m saying is, if Hailey mentions it somehow, you gotta be repentant. Acknowledge it. Say you’re sorry to her.”
“I get it, Satan, and I know you do too.”
Neither of us wanted to have this conversation. But even if Satan was only doing it to appease his now actual girlfriend, I knew damn well that he was right. I had fucked up with Melissa.
And if I ever got the chance to see her in person?
Well, wouldn’t that be a hell of a moment. But I’d like to think I’d make things right. Or at least apologize.
“I’m heading your way now, but Spawn? On Brock—I brought you into this club. I want you to lead by example to everyone else. Nothing else fucking matters except dealing with King’s Men. There’s no time to even air and confess to past grievances, not while we’re in church. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“See you in fifteen.”
