CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brick
Bob Seger’sMainstreetis playing in the background, and Starlet is lying on the couch with her head in my lap. We haven’t spoken much since our argument, since she told me she loved me. I like how it feels caressing her soft hair, occasionally looking down and seeing her tranquil features, like we’ve been doing this every night for years. I lean forward and grab my longneck off the coffee table and take a swig.
As I’m about to set it down, she plucks it from my hand. “I need a drink.”
“There’s some whiskey in the cabinet over the sink, sodas in the fridge.”
“No thank you.” She sits up and sucks down the rest of my beer. “What time is it?”
There’s a vintage Regulator wall clock to the left. “Eight thirty.”
“Early.” She stretches her arms above her head and yawns. “Time doesn’t fly when you’re not having fun.”
“Do you want this night to end?”
She faces me, her features unreadable. “I want my past to stay where it belongs—forgotten.”
I trace my thumb along her jawline. “I’m sorry, Starlet.” I don’t apologize, not to anyone.
She sighs. “Not your fault, Brick. I’m my father’s daughter. His name will haunt me forever.”
All I can think about is my own unfortunate past, my mentally ill, alcoholic father. How he took out all of his failures on me—his irrevocably broken marriage to my mother, his inability to get promoted in the Marines, dozens of failed relationships, his failure as a father… How every time I came close to securing a bit of happiness for myself, he’d destroy it. Either with his fists or a phone call—like he did with Charlotte. Shaking the past is nearly impossible to do, but I tuck the memory of my only girlfriend away and focus on the woman near me. “Hungry?”
“Actually, I’m really thirsty.” She hops up and heads to the kitchen. I hear the fridge door open. “Forgot to tell you I called Silver myself. Saved you the trouble,” she says too casually.
What the fuck did she just say? I rush to the kitchen, confused and angry. “Tell me you’re joking.”
She stands up with a beer in her hand and uses her foot to close the refrigerator door. “Why would I joke about something so serious?”
“Starlet…” I react out of annoyance and grip her by the upper arms, giving her a shake. “When?”
“Let go of me, Brick.” Her green eyes meet mine.
“Answer me.”
“After I guessed how the vote went, I decided to be the master of my own destiny. I don’t need an MC or any man to decide my future. So, I calledhome.”
“You’re calling ithome now?” Not sure why it bothers me so much. I know what happens tomorrow. I made it happen. Her news should have the opposite effect on me, I should be happy she’s so accepting of the choice my MC made for her.
“Born and bred in Alabama.”
“Stop it, Starlet.” I step back, crossing my arms over my chest, scrutinizing her face. She’s full of shit. Though her lips are pressed into a stubborn, hard line, I can see the pain in her eyes. Years of pain. And I’ve tasted a part of that girl. “You’d rather sell your soul than go back to the Devil’s Crusaders.”
Her body jerks in response, like my words sliced through her with laser-like accuracy. “I don’t need to worry about that. The Iron Norsemen sold me back to them for a lot less.”
I clench my teeth, but I can’t think of any words to say because she’s right. We sold her out for honor, unwilling to protect her because we don’t want to start a war over a woman. A woman I happen to want. There’s nothing simple about her. She’s complicated and intelligent, maybe too perceptive because of what she does for a living. I can see her brain working behind those eyes as she studies me, waiting for me to speak.
“What do you want me to say, Starlet? I love you back? I’d risk everything to keep you? We’re either fighting or fucking. Don’t mistake hormones for love, sweetheart.” I instantly regret what I said, but that distance thing needs to happen quick. Neither one of us needs to be tethered to the other—not physically, and definitely not emotionally.
“Don’t call me sweetheart!” She sets the beer bottle on the counter.
I narrow my eyes, wishing I could read her thoughts like she can read my past and future in the lines on my hand. I’m sure it’s pure chaos. “Listen to me, Starlet. I volunteered to call Silver tomorrow. I had a plan…”
“What plan?”
“I wanted a chance to talk him down.”
