For just a moment, his expression softened. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant.” I stopped struggling against his hold and looked him in the eye. “I mean nothing to you. What we had means nothing to you. Fidelity and honesty and basic respect mean nothing to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Prove it.” The challenge hung in the air between us. “Prove it, Dutch. Tell me you’ll never touch another woman again. Tell me Crystal was a mistake, and it’ll never happen again.”
He was quiet for a long moment, and I could see the war playing out on his face. Finally, he said, “I can’t promise that.”
My breath hitched, sharp and painful. I’d known he’d say it, but hearing it out loud still destroyed me.
“Indira.” He waited until I met his eyes. “Don’t make this bigger than it is. Come to bed. Sleep on it. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve had time to think rationally.”
“Let me go.” My voice was barely a whisper.
He released my wrists slowly, reluctantly. I stepped back and resumed packing, my hands shaking with rage and heartbreak.
“You still want to leave?” he asked. I could see the confusion in his eyes. Clearly, he thought I was going to fall in line and jump into bed with him after his “it doesn’t mean anything” speech.
“Yes.” I shoved the last of my things into the box with sharp, angry movements.
“You’re going to throw us away over this?”
I spun to face him, fury blazing through me. “You threw us away the moment you decided Crystal’s pussy was more important than my feelings.”
His grip tightened on my arm again. “Watch how you talk to me.”
“Or what?” I yanked against his hold. “You’ll go fuck another club girl? Good luck with that, Dutch. I hope she’s worth it.”
His face darkened, and I could see the dangerous edge creeping into his expression. The same look he got when dealing with club business. For the first time, I realized he might not actually let me leave if I kept pushing.
I forced myself to take a shaky breath and let my shoulders slump in defeat. When I looked up at him, I made sure my voice sounded broken rather than defiant. “I just... I need some time to think. Away from here.”
His grip loosened slightly, and he actually looked relieved. “That’s more reasonable. How much time?”
“I don’t know.” I picked up the box again, careful to keep my movements slow and defeated. “Maybe we can talk in a few days when I’m not so... emotional.” The words tasted like poison, but it’s what he wanted to hear.
His shoulders relaxed. “Good. That’s good, baby.” He stepped aside to let me pass. “Take tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow. This will blow over.”
I nodded and headed for the door, biting my tongue to keep from telling him exactly what I thought of his dismissive attitude.
“Indira.” I paused at the doorway and looked back. “I do care about you. You know that, right?”
“I know,” I lied.
I made it to my car before the tears started. But I didn’t let myself fall apart until I was safely back in my own apartment, with my own locks between me and the Venom Riders MC.
Chapter 3
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— Dutch —
The clubhouse was buzzing with activity when I walked back in, but for the first time in my life, the familiar sounds—loud voices, clinking bottles, classic rock blaring from the jukebox—made my stomach turn. The smell of stale beer and leather that had always meant home now felt suffocating. My mood was black, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest.
Holden looked up from the pool table where he was lining up a shot. He took one look at my face and whistled low. “Rough night, Prez? She calmed down now?”
“She went back to her apartment,” I muttered, heading straight for the bar. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to erase the memory of Indira’s face when she looked at me like I was something she’d found on the bottom of her shoe.
