Page 30 of Mouse
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mouse
Amber had been gone from my life for over a month now.
She hadn’t tried to contact me and I didn’t bother to reach out to her.
It was shitty, I realized that. This wasn’t me. But at the same time, I had to let her go. She didn’t see me as the guy she could make a future with. She only saw me as someone that was passing the time. I wanted to be mad at her for those comments she’d said, but I couldn’t. I was torn between not even caring and trying to over analyze all the ways it went wrong.
I’d fucked up.
Amber had been here with me more than not and I’d somehow gotten it mixed up in my fucked up brain that we were a thing.
A sigh escaped my lips as I turned over onto my back in the bed. The room was dark and for once, there were no fading sounds of my brothers partying into the hours of dawn down below.
When I realized I wasn’t going to get any sleep, I rolled out of bed and got dressed.
For hours, I rode around town, weaving my way through the city at a normal speed. This usually helped me but tonight it did nothing to calm the demons in my head. It did nothing to quiet the thoughts pulling me out of my haze and in a direction I couldn’t go.
I didn’t mind watching Chry. In fact, I loved the hell out of the time I got with the little guy. But I tried my hardest to keep some distance between myself and Ingram. I’d ask her how her day was. I’d listen to what she had to say. Then I’d take Chry to the car. And after I got him buckled in, I’d nicely tell her bye. I didn’t linger. I didn’t go out of my way to touch her. I set boundaries for myself and I stuck to them.
Not that it helped any. My feelings were only growing stronger with each smile she gave me and soon, I knew that shit was going to blow up in my face.
I did my best to keep busy in an attempt to avoid all the stupid shit in my head.
One day, I’d figure it all out. I’d find a way to get over what I might wish I could have. But until then, I had a plan. Keep moving.
I had a feeling that would only work for so long.
A few nights later, I found myself at the clubhouse bar. I was tired of being an asshole and hiding myself away. I sat there and drank with my brothers like the world was right. I talked. I listened. I laughed like everything was normal. It should have been. I had no clue why it wasn’t.
“Yo,” Sketch said as he walked through the front door and pinned me with a hard stare.
I straightened immediately, the grip on my glass loosening.
His eyes moved to a few of the other brothers and I breathed a strange sigh of relief.
“Some fine fuckin’ bitches up at the bar,” he said with a shrug. “You’re missin’ out.”
I looked back down at my glass, tossed back its contents, then nodded to the prospect to fill me up again.
“Mouse,” Sketch said as he slung his oddly heavy arm over my shoulder. Was I that far gone? “Dude, I got this bitch up there wantin’ two brothers to take her. She said she’d do anything.”
His eyes lighted up with excitement.
I shook my head as a chuckle forced its way out of my throat because I really expected nothing less from him.
I’d never participated in one of his infamous threesomes, but I’d heard about him.
Even as I downed what felt like my millionth shot, I had no desire to help him out.
“Try Fire Beard,” I said referring to the newly patched in brother that I had a good feeling didn’t mind seeing dick while fucking.
“Nah,” Sketch said with a quick shake of his head. “Need a man that won’t look at my shit. Not judging, just particular.”
I looked at him with narrowed eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was so drunk I couldn’t focus or because I was trying to understand.
I knew very little about Sketch. I had a good idea about his past, but I didn’t have the first clue how living on the streets had affected him. It didn’t really matter, he’d die for me same as I’d do for him.
