Page 37 of Tied to You
Fuck.
I try to squash my admission, recklessly taking a bend way too fucking fast. My arms jerk trying to steady the machine underneath me, a small part of me wishing I could just keep riding. Keep going, find somewhere new to settle.
Then I remember my responsibilities.
What if she went with me?
Stop. The devil on my shoulder taunts me. Or maybe it’s the angel? The good part of me, if such a thing exists, wanting me to do what my uncle said.Aim for more.
Is she it?
No. Even if she was. I have nothing going for me, nothing to offer her.
On that note, I turn the throttle even harder.
I don’t even know what fucking time it is when I rock up at the clubhouse. Judging by the looks on a few of the guys’ faces, I’ve been gone too long. “Tried calling you,” Rocco says, stepping closer to me, telling me what I already know.
I’ve barely made it five steps inside the building. “Needed to clear my head.” I go to take my phone out.
“From what? We’ve got a lot on, brother. Need your head in this.”
His lip curls, and I hold his stare, my hand stopping before retrieving my phone. Stalemate. I don’t like his tone. And I don’t appreciate the ambush as soon as I walk in. Fuck’s sake.
“How’s Blackjack?” Dean asks, breaking the moment, moving toward us. He must sense the fucking mood I’m once again in.
I look at him, and he widens his eyes for only me to see. “Uh, yeah, fine?” I play along, shaking my head mildly, looking back at Rocco. “Fine now,” I add, making it look like I’ve been busy elsewhere. I have. But being at war with myself doesn’t warrant a good enough excuse to ignore the club, though. We’ve got a big weekend ahead of us. Can’t have any fuckups.
“Need you two to call Sparky, have him meet you later. He’s been there before. Be good to take him to do the reccy before Saturday.”
I nod, and Dean does too. Fucking Sparky. Guy’s got a job to do this weekend. Still, tonight will be good for me. A distraction.
“Good.” He turns and walks to Dennis who’s sat at a table, his head down looking at some paperwork.
“Thanks.” I don’t say anymore. Don’t have to.
“Mick called. Said he’s been trying to get hold of you?”
Pulling out my battered phone, I can see why he couldn’t. The screen is cracked, the thing completely broken. “Fuck.”
“What happened?” Dean asks.
I messed up.“I fell.”
He squints at me. “Youfell?”
Pulling at the back of my neck, I look down at my feet. “Yeah. I fell. What’s wrong with Blackjack?”
Dean shrugs. “Mick called an hour ago, said it wasn’t going well.”
Damn. I should go back and help. But Mollie’s there. She can help him. Between them, they’ll be able to handle it. I show up and I’ll make it worse. Again. No, best if I stay here. “I need a drink.”
Unsure, Dean sighs. “You don’t want to go?”
I shake my head. “No point now.”
He doesn’t question me when I brush past him, making my way to the bar. I’m all too aware that no amount of alcohol can make me forget these new feelings. What I really need is a fucking reality check. What I did today was nothing short of stupid. My responsibilities lie here with the club, not kissing Mollie. I made whatever’s between us ten thousand times more complicated than it needed to be.
Don’t fuck this up.
