Page 94 of Spinner's Luck

“What would I do without you around?” I teased, trying to smile.

She grinned, leaning back against the pillows. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

For the first time since that night with Spinner, I laughed, the sound surprising me.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I FOUND HERoutside, perched on one of the weatheredpicnic tables under the string lights strung across the yard. The soft glow cast jagged shadows across her face, but it didn’t hide the tight set of her jaw, the way her shoulders curled in like she was bracing for impact.

She was staring at the sky, knees pulled up, arms locked around them like she was holding herself together.

She didn’t flinch when I approached. Didn’t even turn her head. But I knew she heard me. Lucy always knew when someone was near.

“Knew you’d still be hidin’ out,” I said, leaning against the table beside her.

She finally looked at me, her eyes like ice shards. “I’m not hiding.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Her expression darkened. She swung her legs over the side of the table, putting space between us—a deliberate move. A warning.

“What do you want, Spinner?”

I dragged a hand down my face, already feeling the headache forming. “To talk.”

Her laugh was brittle, like broken glass. “We’ve got nothing to talk about.” She hopped off the table, turning her back on me like I was already dust in the wind.

I reached out, caught her wrist—not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop her.

“Yes, we do.”

She went rigid, muscles locking up like a caged animal ready to snap. Slowly, she turned, her expression cold enough to freeze hell over.

“Let go.”

I did, but I didn’t step back. “I messed up, Lucy. I know that. But you can’t keep runnin’ from this.”

Her breath hitched, but she covered it quick, raking a hand through her hair. “From what?” she snapped. “From you? From your club? I’m not running, Spinner. I’m surviving. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah? Well, your kind of survival’s gonna get you killed.”

Her laugh was rough, unsteady, cutting through the thick night air. “And what the hell do you care?” Her voice sharpened to a blade. “Not after you doubted me. Not after you and your brothers made me feel like the enemy. Not after you—” She swallowed hard, fists clenching at her sides. “Not after you spent the night with Ashlynn.”

The accusation burned, but I held my ground.

“I was wrong to doubt you,” I said, my voice lower now, thick with regret. “You told me I’d regret it, and you were right. But I swear to you, Ashlynn never made it through that door. I didn’t touch her. I was fuckin’ drunk and stupid, but I want to fix this.”

“Fix it?” she scoffed, her laugh cutting and hollow. “You think a half-assed apology is gonna make this go away? That’s not how this works, Spinner. I don’t give a damn how drunk you were. Doubting me put the gun to my chest. Grabbing onto Ashlynn, walking out with her—thatpulled the goddamn trigger.”

The words landed heavy, like a boot to the stomach, but I didn’t let it show.

“I can’t change what happened.” I stepped in, closing the space she kept trying to put between us. “I fucked up, Lucy. But you make me crazy. You always have. And I’ll be damned if I let that be the end of us. I’m not givin’ up on you. Not now. Not ever.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, hands trembling before she clenched them into fists. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m not deciding anythin’ for you,” I shot back. “I’m tellin’ you how I feel. But you’re too damn stubborn to listen. I love you, Lucy.”

Her breath hitched. Just barely. But I caught it.

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