Carter is still in shock. “I can’t believe you have a?—”
“Well, hurry up and get your head around it.” I fish for my phone on the nightstand.
And that’s when I see the chain of unread messages from Sadie.
Sadie:What time are you back?
Sadie:I’ll stay the night. Call me in the morning.
Sadie:Hello? Where are you?
Sadie:Call me when you get the chance.
Following that are a string of missed calls.
Shit.
I shoot up and make my way to the door. “I gotta go.”
Carter shifts in front of it like a security guard. “Did you not just hear what we said?”
“I heard it loud and clear, but did you not just hear whatIsaid? I have a kid. I also have a nanny who doesn’t know where the fuck I am. I need to get back.”
“You’re not safe.”
“Conrad won’t be driving into my neighborhood anytime soon, not unless he wants his tires slashed.”
“Carmen,” Skipper chimes in. “This isn’t a fucking game.”
“You can’t keep me here. Let’s face it—I’m safer back home than I am here. Conrad knows I’m with you, which means you’ll have more black cars speeding through the desert to look forward to. Not to mention that your own lives are at stake here. What about the club? Don’t you care?”
Carter gives me one of his famous hard glances, indicating that he does in fact care, perhaps more than he’s letting on.
“It’s better for everyone if I go back home, and you know it.”
After a beat of silence, Vex steps forward. “She’s right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
The other two don’t look so convinced, but that’s not enough reason for me to stay here and obey their every command. They only care about me because I’m apparently deemed worthy in the eyes of men.
Twenty-one-year-old me would be flattered.
Twenty-eight-year-old me finds it to be a death sentence. If you stick around with men long enough, they’ll find a way to destroy you. Whether they’re getting you into booze or into bed, it’s not worth it when you have a child back home relying on you, hopelessly praying that one day you’re gonna wake up and change.
Today, I make that change.
I put a stop to all of this.
“Let me drive you home,” Carter says, following me out into the main room.
I ignore his comment, beelining for the door so I can jump on the first motorcycle I see. I’ve ridden on the back of these things enough now to know how to operate one.
“I’ll drive myself. It’s safer.”
“Carmen?”
The other two catch up. I increase my speed, descending the veranda stairs.
