Her brows hiked to her hairline. It was obvious that scenario had never crossed her mind. Cleo shook her head. “She wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah, she fucking would. You don’t know her ’cause she’s not your friend.”
“Well, I know me, and I wouldn’t do that.” She pressed her hand against her chest and her face paled. “You think I would do that, Wraith?”
There was no missing the hurt in her tone. His heart was pounding so hard it was threatening to beat out of his chest. He’d taken this too far, allowing his anger and fear to get the best of him. His intention was to show her the possibilities of what could’ve happened, not beat her down. Wraith pushed off the table, putting distance between them.
“Cleo, go upstairs,” Ace said.
She grabbed the arms of the chair, slowly rising. She stood, pushed out of her chair silently, and walked to the hallway. Then she stopped, glancing over her shoulder, looking directly at Wraith.
“Is it so hard to believe that someone would want to be my friend? Or go out on a real date with me?”
Wraith had hit her in places he wasn’t able to reconcile with.He was suspicious of everyone getting too close to Cleo. It had little to do with her personally and more about protecting her.I fucked up.
“I guess it is,” she muttered and disappeared past the wall.
The room was completely silent. If he had to guess, like him, they were all listening to the sound of her steps as she made her way to her bedroom.
“Fuck!” Wraith snapped.
“You hurt her feelings, man.” Gent snickered and settled back in his chair.
“Shut the fuck up, Gent.” Cypher slapped the back of his head.
Wraith didn’t bother with Gent or any member of the club. He needed space, and he wouldn’t find it at the clubhouse tonight. He stormed through the back warehouse and out the door, heading straight to his bike.
He needed to clear his mind and relieve his conscience of some guilt.
Wraith mounted his bike, started the engine and took off down the driveway.
Heneededthis ride.
Chapter Five
Most days the mail truck came like clockwork. So much so, Cleo had set an alarm on her phone. Today had been no different. She sat on the steps of the front porch looking down to the road. The mailbox couldn’t be seen except through a bald spot in the woods. Other than that, it was completely obscured. She tapped her fingertips on the wood and strained her neck when she heard a familiar rumbling. It was a quick flash, but she saw the white truck whiz past the opening then heard screeching brakes.
Cleo pushed up from the steps and walked down the long driveway. She grabbed the mail and started up the path, sifting through the pile. It was mostly junk with a few bills for some of the members. She was losing hope when she flipped to the last envelope, and her chest tightened.
The letters only came once a month, but they’d been steady for the last six. It was one of few highlights and something she was able to look forward to. After the last day or two, she hadn’t found an abundance of happiness in the clubhouse. She only had herself to blame. She’d messed up.Again.
Cleo shook her head, ridding her mind of the past. She had something good to focus on. She smiled, scanning over the light pink envelope with perfect penmanship. She quickly folded it and shoved it in her back pocket when she heard the rumbling ofengines. She scooted off to the side of the driveway and waved as Cue and Joker passed. Only Cue acknowledged her, dipping his chin. Of all the members, he was the quietest. At least with her. Cue didn’t tease her or engage much but he always left her fifty dollars on his dresser when she cleaned his room. That was on top of what she was paid directly from the club.
By the time she reached the house, they had disappeared behind the building. A lot of them chose to park in the back, especially when they were gearing up for their weekly parties. It always amazed her how many people came considering none lived in Killcreek.
Cleo walked inside, leaving the mail on the small table near the entrance. She rushed upstairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Once inside, she locked the door and pulled out the envelope. The handwriting was perfect.
Dear Cleo,
I hope this letter finds you well.
She always started off that way. Initially, it seemed like an obligatory introduction. As time passed, Cleo realized it was genuine.
I loved your story about the donuts in the parking lot on the ice. I laughed so hard, I spit out half my coffee. Like you, it’s not the response I would’ve given the police officer either. But so funny! He had quite the guts, unlike me who probably would’ve cried and begged for forgiveness from the cop. Then I would’ve pleaded my case so as to not get a ticket. Gahhh, my father would’ve lost his mind and I would’ve been grounded until I was eighteen.
Most parents would have a similar reaction. Not their mom, though. She never cared about anything her brother or she did.
Speaking of fathers, you never mention yours. If it’s too personal, I completely understand. Father daughter relationships can be tricky. I haven’t always had the best with my dad. For a long time, we didn’t see eye to eye on everything. My mother always said we butt heads so much because we’re too much alike, stubborn, always up for a debate and we love too hard. Is that even a thing? I think loving fiercely is the truest way to love someone. And from everything you’ve told me, that’s how Knox loved you. I wish I could’ve met him. Of course, I wouldn’t be here, if not for him.
