“Because it’s Davis,” I scoffed.
My mind drifted back to the night at the Vault. I was fucking pissed that he’d tried to stab me in the back, but more than that, I was hurt. It was hard to stomach the idea that my own flesh and blood would betray me like that, especially after I’d tried to help him.
But that wasn’t even the part that got to me the most.
That came after I got to the clubhouse and found that the prospects had already cleared his room. They’d done what had been asked. They shoved all his shit into his bags, and whatever didn’t fit went into trash bags. They’d loaded it into Memphis’s SUV and were waiting on my go-ahead to take it over to my dad’s place.
When I walked up, Smitty motioned his head towards all the bags and said, “You wanna take a look? Make sure we got everything?”
“I’m sure it’s good.”
I leaned in without thinking and quickly scanned everything they’d collected when something caught my eye. My chest tightened as I reached in and wrapped my fingers around the worn, smooth metal.
The old pocketknife felt heavy in my hand.
I flipped it back and forth, making sure it was what I thought it was, and when I saw the D&J engraved on the side, I knew it was it.
It was my grandfather’s knife—the one my mother had given me before she died. She told me to keep it safe because it was a ‘good thing to have when the world got mean’. I thought I’d lost it. I’d torn the house apart looking for it, but I had no luck. I asked Davis about it, and he’d looked me dead in the eye and said he had no idea what happened to it.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d had it all along.
He was always jealous of the fact that Mom had given it to me instead of him. It made sense that he took it, but I couldn’t fathom how my own brother could lie to me outright. It was one jab after the next with him. Damn.
The betrayal settled deep, and I knew then that Davis had been fucking me over for years. I just hadn’t wanted to see it.
But I’d seen it now, and there was no turning back.
I ran my hand through my hair, trying to ground myself as I told Presley, “Davis has said a lot of things. To me. To you. To everyone, and none of it has been true. So, why would this be any different?”
She opened her mouth to argue but didn’t say a word.
There was nothing to say.
She knew I was right.
Davis wasn’t one to be trusted. He’d proven it time and time again. I wasn’t sure about her, though. I wanted to believe that she’d played along with his bullshit out of desperation, but thefact was she had played along. While she’d backed out, she’d also helped him put the knife in my back, and I couldn’t forget that.
Even if I wanted to.
And with the way she was looking at me right then and there, I desperately wanted to forget about it. Damn, I wanted to bad. She was standing there in her fancy tan slacks and black sweater that made her blonde hair look even blonder. Her cheeks were flushed with frustration, and she kept biting her bottom lip to the point that it was now swollen.
I wanted nothing more than to reach out and brush the pad of my thumb along the soft ridges of her mouth. Maybe it would help ease the urge I felt to pull her close and kiss her, because that was the last fucking thing I needed to do right now.
I rolled my shoulders, hoping it would help ground me a little, then said, “Tell me more about this money that he says Lila Kate owes. How much money are we talking?”
“A hundred thousand by the end of the month, which is today.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding?”
“No, but it’s okay. I have it… I came up with it on my own.”
“And how’d you manage that?”
“I sold everything I owned,” she scoffed. “And I mean everything.”
I glanced over at the van, then back to her as I asked, “That why you’re driving the junker?”
“It’s not that bad, but yes. I sold my car, my Nana’s ring, and Lila Kate sold everything she could. And I borrowed the rest.”
