That should hurt, and it does, but honestly, it just reiterates everything I already knew. I wasn’t worth it for either of my parents to stay around, either. I have never been worthy of much, and it was silly to think that I could be worthy of that man’s love. Of any man’s love, really.
The cold, hard truth is that I’m not meant to have anything like that. I’m not meant to have the love I desire. I should just accept that and move forward with my life. I should be happy to watch everyone around me find love and accept the fact that it’s not for me, it’s never been for me, and it never will be.
When my phone buzzes in my hand, I am taken out of my thoughts. Flicking my gaze down at my device, I’m surprised to see that it’s from Posey. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, though. She probably knows why Goose is no longer here—my Goose.
POSEY: Do you need me to come over?
I almost laugh. Yeah. She knows. I’m not sure I want to respond to her. I don’t want her to come over. She’s family, but I don’t want to see family right now. Family is the reason I’m in this mess. In this situation. This is Ivy’s fault. I know it is. He had some rule about the guys at the club not being involved with me, and then he beat up the one guy who ever made a move on me.
I’m not ready to speak to anyone I’m related to, or who is married to anyone I‘m related to, right now. Ignoring hermessage, I decide to text Lainey. If anyone will understand the stupid dynamic of the club, it will be her.
Do you want to go out?
She responds immediately, and when she does, I know she was the right choice for me.
LAINEY: Are you okay?
No.
LAINEY: Do you want me to come over?
Honestly. Not only no, but hell no. I don’t want to even be here, let alone bring someone else into this sadness. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I just respond with something a little less dramatic.
I really want to get out of here. I’ve been cooped up for too long.
And that is the honest truth of it. I’ve been so locked inside my home, my head, and in this bubble of great sex that I’ve lost sight of the real world, or at least my real world. I allowed myself to think that I could have things when I should have realized that Jeffrey showed me exactly what I could have… which is nothing.
LAINEY: A bar or restaurant?
Bar.
LAINEY: Say less.
There is only one bar around here worth going to. There won’t be many men, but none of them will be Vicious Reapers, which is all that matters. We set a time, and I get up and walk toward the bedroom to get ready.
I really don’t care what I’m wearing. I don’t feel like looking sexy, but after my shower, I stand in front of the mirror wrapped in my robe, my makeup and hair done, and I realize that I need to look sexy. Goose is no doubt at that clubhouse surrounded by clubwhores who have missed his presence.
He isn’t thinking about me. He didn’t think enough of me to even tell me goodbye. It’s exactly what I thought. The moment he walked out of this apartment, he forgot about my existence, just like the last time.
I’d hoped that things had changed, that in some twist of fate, this could have been real between us. That he could have fallen in love with me. That I could have had a slice of happiness just for us—selfishly, though, just for me. I’ve never felt happiness before him. I loved every second, even if it only lasted a couple of weeks.
Turning my back to my mirror, I walk over to my closet and find something that is comfortable and sexy. I’m going to drink tonight, a lot, and I’m going to look sexy while doing it, but if I fall on my ass, I want to be in some kind of pants.
Finding my wide-legged jeans, I slip them on and button them with a smile. I love these jeans, and it’s been a minute since I’ve worn them. Reaching for the black mesh long-sleeve top, I throw it on my bed before I put on a black bra, then pull the top on over it and turn around to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My smile widens.
Love it.
Slipping my feet into a pair of black high heels, I fluff up my hair as I take in my reflection one last time. I look sexy and comfortable, the exact look I was going for. I walk over to mybed, grab my purse and my phone, and shove my phone in my bag before I walk out of the bedroom, then the apartment.
I need a freaking drink.
GOOSE
Lifting the bottle to my lips, I take a pull and hiss as the liquid burns my throat on the way down. I gave up on beer about an hour after I bellied up to the bar. I’m on Jack Daniel’s right now, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.
Thankfully, everyone has given me a wide berth. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to see anyone. I want to drink until I pass out, then I want to wake up and drink some more. I plan on repeating this over and over until I forget that Cidney ever existed. I have a feeling I’ll never forget her. I’ll just have to fucking die. Which sounds good enough to me at this point.
My phone alerts me to a new notification when I’m at least half a bottle in, and I try to focus on the screen, but even as I attempt it, my entire body sways. But then I realize it’s a motion alert to Cidney’s front door.
