Clay flinches as if I’ve just slapped him.
His voice is rough. “Karina. Please. Just let me?—”
I back toward the door. “No. I can't even look at you right now.”
Turning on my heel, I walk out. He says my name again, but he doesn't follow.
He lets me go.
Chapter Ten
CLAY
The door slams behind her but I don't move.
I should go after her. I should chase her down and explain, make her understand. But my feet are rooted to the floor because she's right. Every word she said is true.
I lied to her. I slept with her while keeping secrets. I decided she couldn't handle the truth, just like I decided my mother couldn't handle it when the bills piled up and the dealers came calling.
And so did you.
The words echo in my skull.
“Prez.” Viper's voice cuts through the fog. “You okay?”
I turn back to the table. A dozen faces stare at me; these are the men who trust me to lead them. Right now, I can't lead for shit.
“We move on Morgan tonight,” I say. My voice sounds distant, mechanical. “Call our contact at the sheriff's department and hand over everything we have.”
“Tonight? I thought?—”
I brace my hands on the table. “Karina found out on her own. She's seen his emails, the wire transfers. Morgan's going to knowhis cover is blown tomorrow the second he sees her face. That is, if he turns up at the event.”
Brick leans forward. “You think she'll confront him?”
“Not yet. She'll need some time to get herself together.” The image of her tear-streaked face flashes through my mind. “But he'll figure it out… if Viper and Karina have both been snooping, he might be suspicious already. We need to move before he runs.”
Viper nods and pulls out his phone.
Brick is beside me, voice low. “Go after her.”
“She doesn't want to see me.”
“Since when do you give a shit what people want?” He raises an eyebrow.
“This is different.”
“How?”
Because I destroyed the best thing that ever walked into my life, and she looked at me like I was the villain, and she wasn't wrong.
I don't say any of that. I just shake my head.
Later, I drive to her apartment anyway to check if she’s gone home. Her car is in the lot and there are lights on inside her apartment. I sit in my truck and stare at her window for twenty minutes like some kind of stalker, trying to figure out what to say.
I could say ‘I'm sorry’, but that’s not enough. Or ‘I love you’. True, but it doesn't fix anything.
My phone buzzes.
