Page 117 of Choices

Monster’s doing the world a service. Knowing a man is in the process of being tortured right now is a little creepy, but I don’t feel sorry for him. He’s a perverted psychopath.

I turn on the water for the shower, and images of Cutter and me in here this morning flutter to the forefront of my mind with searing clarity. Our naked bodies writhing against the wall. Heat, passion, and love flowed from us in a beautiful dance, and now, not even twenty-four hours later, it’s all gone to shit. Sorrow settles like a blanket of snow in my chest.

Peeling away the layers of clothing, I step inside, surrendering to the downpour of water. My fingertips flit a familiar routine across my body, scrubbing away the memory of this morning until I’m red, raw, and shaking. No matter howmuch I try, I can’t wash away the deep ache sitting beneath the surface. My tears, like my hope, wash down the drain. I feel so lost. Loneliness and anger bear down on me, the weight paralyzing. How could he let this happen again?

Turning off the water, I grab a towel and dry myself, then slip into a pair of tight black jeans, a ripped tee, and leather boots before combing my hair and leaving my face makeup free. In a haze, my feet carry me to the bar, my mind commanding me not to think.

Propping myself on a stool, I relish the quiet inside. There are some brothers and ol’ ladies loitering in the halls, but most are still outside, and only me and Green are in the bar. He’s asleep across three chairs pushed together, his feet dangling off the end, his head in an awkward position at the other end. It looks uncomfortable, but he’s snoring like it’s a fluffy mattress.

Taking out my phone, I inhale a deep breath and open the unread messages from Cutter, noticing six missed calls from his number too.

Cutter: Where are you? It’s not mine, Kit.

Cutter: Answer your phone.

Cutter: Let me at least explain. I DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS GOING TO DO THIS.

Cutter: Where are you?

Cutter: Please answer your phone.

Cutter: I love you, Kit.

My heart pounds in my ears, and my hands tremble, almost dropping the phone. He said it’s not his. How can he know for sure? And who is she sleeping with if it’s not his?

I can believe he didn’t know she was going to announce it today. He wouldn’t have made promises about ripping off my shorts moments before otherwise. That was a promise he intended to keep—then boom, a crack split my chest in two.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” As if my thoughts summoned him, Cutter’s voice carries across the room, settling over me like an old comfort blanket, one that’s tattered and ruined, but you can’t bear to throw out even if the threads are thorns tearing away at your skin every time you curl beneath it.

“I didn’t know she was going to fucking do that.” My pulse beats a little faster the closer his voice becomes. “It was news to me too, Kit.” The world around us fades into obscurity.

“Talk to me,” he begs, his scent wrapping around me as he comes to stand right beside me.

“Diamond has your kid out there. She’s not a nanny,” I snap.

“The baby isn’t mine,” he states, and I want to believe it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

“How can you know that?” I laugh without humor, my face pinching in pain.Please don’t cry.

“Let’s go to your room and talk.” Those blue eyes bore into the side of my damn head.

“No.” I slam my hand on the bar. “Just fucking tell me here.” I can’t stand to be in my room—not when the walls echo of everything that’s us together.

My phone chirps in my other hand, startling me. My nerves are frayed, and he’s holding a match to them.

Rogue: We have the answers. Meet in the garage.

That was quick.

“I have to go.” Slipping from my stool, I brush past him, fighting the urge to punch him and throw my arms around him in the same breath. My soul aches to reunite with his, and it’s only been a few hours. I won’t survive losing us again.

“Kit, we’re not done,” he calls after me.

“I have to go.”

“Go where?” His feet pound behind mine up the corridor toward the garage.

“Are you going out?” he asks, a touch of confusion and curiosity in his tone.

---