“Save you from what? What aren’t you telling us?”
“This might shock you but I don’t have to tell you anything,” she says softly. “It’s my business. I didn’t ask for your help.”
“It’s only a matter of time before your boss whores you out.” Sawyer’s voice hardens. “There are clubs where this won’t happen. But that’s rare, and from what I understood, your boss won’t bat an eye at selling your body. Do you want that? Is that your plan?”
“I don’t have a choice!”
“Sure you do. Tell us what you need the money for.”
“I can’t. “
“Okay, guys, let’s go,” Archer says. “She isn’t interested in talking to us.”
“Now hang on a minute,” Sawyer says. “I’m not going. Brin, we don’t have to talk about money or the job?—”
“You should go, Sawyer,” she whispers.
His face falls.
It’s painful to watch.
I feel it in my chest. The rejection. The ache of realization that the person you want to be around is shutting you out.
I’d high-five him, but then I’d probably have to explain about my pack shutting me out of their decisions.
Not gonna happen.
Gathering around me the shreds of my manly pride, I turn to go. “Archer is right, Sawyer. Let’s go. I mean, you heard her. She doesn’t want you around, either.”
“Oh, fuck you,” she breathes, and it’s choked.
I refuse to glance back, see her face in the mirror. If I do, I may have to stay and wring the information out of her, or I won’t be able to sleep at night.
Loan sharks? Health issues? I don’t need the drama. Fuck, I need to talk to my pack, this can’t go on. I need a clue. Am I still in or out? Am I paranoid?
Have they somehow found out about my secret and haven’t told me?
Yeah, I have enough fucking drama of my own to deal with right now.
23
SAWYER
Idon’t want to leave her here. She’s putting on a brave face, but I can see right through it. I know the signs of anxiety. I’m a goddamn expert. The shaky hands. The slight tremor in her voice. The anger that can never quite smother the fear.
But Roman wraps an arm around me and drags me along. Probably for the best. She already asked me to leave. Can’t stay, no matter how much I’d like to.
After a long moment, I realize that we aren’t headed toward the exit and dig in my heels. “Where are you going?”
“To our table.”
“We’re staying?”
“We’re watching the show.”
“Are we, now?” Kyrian is glaring.
“Come on, big man,” Roman says. “You know you don’t want to leave her either. We have to see what this club is like.”