“Think you’d best leave, Rowena,” Shotgun stated.
“Seriously? Are you mad? Do you believe many women would consider being in a throuple?”
“Triad, and yeah, it happens, Rowena. If it’s not for you, fine, but don’t patronise us for what we want. We get it. Great to fuck, but not worth a relationship. Just go. Thanks for the memories,” Shotgun stated bitterly.
Rowena gathered her bag and looked at them. “Guess this is goodbye?”
“Yup. Have a nice life with the single, boring guy you settle down with,” Shotgun replied. Rain refused even to acknowledge her. Her heels clicked on the wooden floor, and the front door opened and closed.
Shotgun walked to where Rain stood, staring out of the window. He watched as Rowena looked back and smirked before climbing into her car.
“Maybe we ought to keep it casual. I can’t believe the trouble we’re having finding a third,” Rain suggested.
Shotgun wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled Rain against his body. He kissed Rain’s neck, not in desire but for comfort.
“There’ll be someone. There has to be. We need to be patient,” he said.
Rain stared out of the window. “How long? Because this sneaking around is killing me. I know what we agreed, but is it right? Should we just come out?”
Shotgun paused as he held Rain tightly. That was a valid question. When they’d begun dating, they both decided to keep it private. Shotgun because of the club, and Rain because of his sisters and job. It didn’t matter that it was twenty-twenty-one; there were still assholes who were homophobic.
Both Shotgun and Rain had agreed that if they found their third, their wife, then they would say they were both seeing her. There were plenty of ladies now who had open relationships, and that’s what they’d claim. Neither of them had to admit they were in love with each other as well. Although it would take a strong woman, because no doubt, bitches would be bitchy.
Through their two years together, they’d had four women join them; none lasted long. Rowena had been the longest, and they’d believed it would last, which is why they’d called the meeting today.
But nope, they were good for fucking and nothing else.
“We’ve got each other,” Shotgun soothed.
“Yeah, for how long? Sooner or later, people are gonna question why we spend so much time together. Or why one of us keeps disappearing,” Rain replied.
That was true, Shotgun acknowledged. Some of the brothers had already begun asking whether he had a secret woman. Once or twice, he’d tried to explain his life choices, but the words had stuck in his throat. Would he ever be able to tell the club the truth?
Allegra – June 2021
I stormed out of my husband’s office—or soon-to-be ex-husband. Fuck, we’d only been married a year. Two years I’d wasted on this idiot? Only to catch him balls deep in his secretary. Christ, could he be anymore cliché? Asshole.
People stared as I marched past them, carrying their clothes. I spun around and deliberately dropped them in a trash can, grabbed a mug of coffee from a nearby desk and poured it all over the fabric.
“Mrs Peters, are you okay?” a gentle voice asked.
“No, but I will be when I get a divorce lawyer,” I retorted.
“Oh no, what happened?”
I turned and faced Clint’s boss. She was a lovely lady, Fiona Eyres. A ball-buster in the boardroom, but a very nice person.
“I caught Clint balls deep in that slut of a secretary. They’re currently naked in his office as I stole their clothes,” I pointed at the soggy mess in the trash can. People leaned closer, trying to hear our conversation, and we stepped away.
Fiona peered over as the staff watched, spellbound. “Ah, I see. Not appropriate behaviour during working hours.”
“No. But somehow, I doubt this is Clint’s first indiscretion. Oh well, you have a nice day, Fiona, and sorry about… no, I’m not actually. I do feel bad for what you’re about to walk into, though.”
A glint shone in Fiona’s eyes. “Don’t be. Between you and me, I’m looking forward to firing both their asses. Arrogant asshole.”
I laughed with bitterness and shook her hand. “Enjoy the gift.”
I watched as Fiona marched towards my soon-to-be ex-husband’s office with its drawn blinds. She didn’t bother knocking; she barged straight in and let out a distressed scream.
