I stood there in the middle of the road, drenched and shaking and just staring at the empty stretch of pavement. If I stared long enough, maybe he’d come back. Maybe he’d turn around. Maybe we could find a way to fix this.
My mind scrambled for solutions. I would’ve burned my entire life to the ground if it meant that his truck would reappear.
But he didn’t.
It was all too little too late.
CHAPTER 71
maverick
Igripped the glass with both my hands to try to stop them from shaking. The condensation soaked into my palms, cold and slick, but it didn’t steady me. I was so fucking angry that I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t think. I could breathe. Harley had infected every part of me. Every memory. Every plan. Every goddamn hope I’d let myself have.
The anger felt safer than anything else. It burned hot and loud, drowning out the quieter, more dangerous emotions buildingunderneath. Because I knew what was coming. I knew, once the anger ebbed away, the hurt would settle in. It would seep into my bones and chip away at me. It’d carve into my bones all the ways I wasn’t good enough for him.I didn’t want to deal with the hurt.
I just wanted to drown before that happened.
Which is how I ended up at the bar with a drink in hand.
The place was dim and familiar in the worst way. The smell hit me first—stale beer and greasy food. It shouldn’t have been comforting, and it hadn’t been in years. But it felt like muscle memory as I decided to throw six years out the window to drown. Anything to not feel.
I just couldn’t drink it. My hands shook too hard every time I tried to bring the drink to my lips. All it would take was one swallow. Just one. I could practically imagine the burn as it slid down my throat and the warmth in my chest. I just knew it’d dull the edges of the world until the memories of Harley vanished.
“I wish I’d never met you.”
The memory hit so hard that my grip tightened on the glass.
I just had to calm down. I just had to get through this hour. This minute. This breath.
I just had to let go and toss my reservations aside—forget everything I’d worked so hard to accomplish. My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. My chest ached as if something had split open inside me and was bleeding out slowly on the bar in front of me.
I wanted to be done with it all. I wanted to punish myself for being stupid enough to believe him. For loving him again. For letting him back in.
I wanted relief from the horrifically loud and vicious voices in my head.
I just wanted silence.
I lifted the glass again, my hand shaking harder.
Before I could take the sip, the glass was forcibly taken from me.
“Sorry, kid,” the bar owner, Craig Hart, said as he set my drink somewhere out of sight. “Can’t serve you.”
“I fucking paid for that,” I growled, my temper flaring.
“Yeah, well,” he retorted, “your money isn’t any good here.”
As if to prove his point, he dropped a handful of bills back on the bar in front of me. I swiped them up.
“This is bullshit,” I retorted. “My money’s—”
“Come talk with me, Maverick.”
I faltered, immediately recognizing the voice behind me.Millie. Fuck. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want to explain this bullshit to her. I just wanted to be left alone.
“Go away, Millie,” I snapped.
“I’ll go away when you come with me,” she said. Her hands landed on my shoulders, and I flinched. I couldn’t help it. She gave me a little squeeze, attempting to be reassuring. “It’s alright, honey. I’m not going to hurt you.”
