Page 34 of Deacon

Hearing the person's name on the line has recognition and acceptance blooming in Diesel’s, Bulldog’s, and Gunz’s expressions when they wordlessly walk away. The knot in my stomach releases, and I sigh before climbing on my iron when the family cars begin pulling away from Sleepy’s final resting place.

I can’t wait for this shit to be over so I can beg Squeak for forgiveness. I miss my fucking woman.

Two nearly three weeks later…

Begrudgingly,I’m starting to realize that Deacon has me and my damn heart in shambles, which shocks me because I haven’t known him long. Yet, his absence and not seeing his dark eyes flash with desire whenever they land on me has been brutal. I have been staying with my parents, who have thoroughly enjoyed having me around. Neither of them questioned me further when I told them I simply wanted to spend some time with them after being gone for so long. Robyn sent a text the day after I left Deacon’s to tell me that my car was at her place.

Oddly, I have yet to go get it, choosing to drive my parents' extra vehicle. What’s worse is that my chest has beenunrelentingly tight since Deacon’s absence. I’ve been feeling like my dog died, and I don’t even own one. Either Deacon has voodoo in his dick, or my bitch ass heart has fallen in love with one of Satan’s minions. Neither option is good for me or my mental health, so I need to figure out how to erase Deacon from my psyche. It's been weeks since I saw or spoke to Deacon, so I really don’t have a reason to still be stuck in the twilight zone of our fake existence. In a single gaze, my stupid ass agreed to be Deacon’s woman while ignoring the rational part of my brain questioning his sanity. Then in a single taste of what his dick can do before dismissing me like a house mouse, I’m pining after the man.

“What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I’m the crazy one in this situation.”

I should be focusing on completing the background check for a candidate, yet my simple ass is stuck in my head about Deacon.

“Good morning, Janelle,” Chance greets, walking into my office with brown interoffice envelopes in his hand.

“Hey, Chance,” I say somberly before focusing on my screen.

“See, this is why I needed to come by your office. What did that man do to have you moping around here, Janelle?”

My chest tightens at the memory of Deacon and I having sex and then him discarding me like a piece of garbage. Even with my urge to fall apart, I will never be comfortable sharing it with Chance.

“What makes you think he did something?”

“It’s the dejected look in your once bright and shiny orbs. Or it could be the heaviness within your saggy shoulders. I can easily tell your man did it because I have been responsible for a few women becoming as despondent as you are.”

“Is there something else you need?” I ask dismissively.

Chance isn’t my counselor, and being an acquaintance doesn’t give him access to my private thoughts or feelings.

“Yeah. My wife and I are having a little gathering at our crib. I wanted to invite you to come hang with me and my people. Let me and my wife help restore the light in your eyes.”

*bzz*

My heart rate increases when my phone vibrates with a singular notification indicating a text alert. Without answering Chance, I damn near fracture my index finger, grabbing my phone and going to my text app.

Tinker Belle:

Hey, bestie. I just wanted you to know that I love you and am thinking about you.

Seeing the text coming from Tinker Belle has my heart dropping to my feet because Deacon still hasn’t responded to the message I sent days ago. Opening our thread, I read over the message again.

Me:

If you want to end our relationship, just be a man about it. In this situation your words should be just as loud as your silence. Or maybe they are.

My eyes damn near balloon when I reach the end and see a sign of life from Deacon’s end.

Deacon:

*read*

Heat explodes throughout my body at seeing that Deacon read my message but didn’t respond. Closing out of the messages without bothering to answer Tinker Belle, I stare into Chance’s questioning gaze.

“Sure. I’ll come. What time and where?” I ask.

Dad:

Are you coming back here tonight?

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