Do I even want her back? After how she did me last time? After I’ve built a life with Marissa and Dylan Junior? I love Marissa… right?
I mean, I know we started out all wrong. When she walked into my shop, for a second, I thought Rebel had come back. The hair, the eyes; the two of them could be sisters. However, Marissa was softer and less outgoing, and, if I’m being honest, kinder.
I fucked her casually for months, but inevitably, there were pockets of time we spent together, just talking. And with each new conversation, I found myself being more drawn to who Marissa was, instead of who she looked like.
When she showed up at the clubhouse one day, looking all frightened and on the verge of tears, everything in me went on high alert. My woman was in danger, and I had to protect her.
Only, she wasn’t. She was pregnant. I immediately asked her to be my ol’ lady. I’d promised myself that I’d never go through another loss.
It’s been great. Not brain-chemistry-altering like my relationship with Rebel, but I think those are once-in-a-lifetime, anyway. Maybe it was because we were young and in love with the club lifestyle, high on the outlaw image we had of ourselves, but maybe we’re chemicals that react strongly only to each other.
Where does that leave me?
Dylan loves Rebel.
Not anymore.
The day after hooking up with Rebel, I went to work, cool, calm, and collected. I tried my hardest not to think about hitting the bullseye, nor did I look at the chair we had done it on.
To make matters worse, Marissa stopped by after picking DJ up. I saw her self-consciously pull her hairnet off as she entered the shop, and I rushed to meet her.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I was worried about you,” she says as she kisses me.
I worry that Rebel might come out of the back room and see it, but I force myself not to flinch away from Marissa.
“You slept in the guest room last night, so I figured you weren’t feeling well. We made you soup.”
Junior giggles at the words, and I warm up a bit. Marissa cares about me so much, and it feels nice. Why throw all of this away for someone who’s never been this thoughtful?
“Hey, Riss,” Buzz says as he returns from his smoke break. “Are you here to mark your territory?”
Luckily, Marissa already thought Buzz was weird, so she didn’t seem to analyze his words much. Besides, Junior started crying, so she was in a rush to get him home for his bath.
I decided right then and there I’d stay away from Rebel, and I’ve been successful so far.
“I see Angie’s still keeping an eye on you,” Claw remarks as he calls.
All of us glance at the two women at the bar. Angie looks upset while Rebel animatedly explains something to her.
“Don’t remind me,” the Prez grumbles. “She’s been on my case ever since the thing with Maya.”
“What happened?” Truck asks.
He’s a great VP and basically runs the club's finances and stuff, but doesn’t engage in gossip or other people’s business.
“She caught Prez fucking Maya last month,” Twitch reveals a little too gleefully.
“I don’t know why she’s making a big deal of it,” Prez sighs. “She doesn’t even like anal, so I wasn’t really cheating.”
Some of the men nod, while Truck looks incredulous. All I can think of is how much Rebel liked taking it up the ass.
Fuck.
I fold and tell the boys I have to take a piss. On my way upstairs, I catch Rebel’s eye and tilt my chin up. She nods almost imperceptibly, and ten minutes later, I’m fucking her brains out with more anger than I even knew I had.
On the drive home, the last bit of my restraint crumbles. I guess I’ve successfully avoided seeing Marissa and DJ for so long that I can pretend they aren’t real.
