Page 23 of Won't Let Go
To keep the emotional mom stuff to a minimum, I hug my son goodbye, kiss his cheek, and tell him I love him. Simple. Easy. Then I meet up with Josh, who takes my hand and silently escorts me through the crowd and out the front door to his bike.
The ride home is oddly tense.
When Josh pulls into my driveway and cuts the engine, he doesn’t speak. Not even after we dismount and enter the house together. He tugs off his clothes on his way to the bathroom and slams the door shut.
Afraid I did something wrong, unease slithers through me as I slowly approach the door and quietly knock. “Josh, are you alright?”
The shower kicks on.
Alrighty then.
An emotional lump blocks my throat, making it hard to breathe, as I back away from the bathroom and slump my way to my room to try and get some shut-eye.
Today had been fun.
I slept, worked, and got out of the house. It was easy… and now… it’s not.
With a heavy heart and stupid tears in my eyes, I strip out of my dress and into a tank top and boy short panties with little black hearts on them.
A sigh escapes as I slide between my cool, silky sheets and rest my cheek on my pillow. I don’t even bother shutting the lights off. What’s the point? I won’t sleep anyway.
I wish I knew what I did wrong.
But that’s life.
All it takes is a moment to break your heart. For some strange reason, mine hurts, and I don’t know why.
As the first tear slides down the edge of my nose and another soaks into my pillow,theyreturn.
“I love fucking, ugly, fat bitches,” he hisses in my ear. “How much will you scream today?”
At least they were gone for a little while.
9
WHITE BOY
Pacing Hunter’sbedroom in my boxers, I suppress the millionth sigh as Bitty goes off on me over the phone.
“Why did you take her to dinner and not tell me? She was on the back of your bike.”
Apparently, someone at the bar tonight is friends with Bitty and stuck their goddamn nose where it doesn’t fucking belong. Now, while I’m tryin’ to calm my ass down about Viper and his shit, I gotta deal with this, too. I don’t have the patience. I’ve made it abundantly clear from the get-go that Jade, Hunter, my mom, and the club come before anyone else.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I keep my trap shut as this infuriating woman yaps, yaps, yaps. For the most part, I put her on ignore in favor of checkin’ my texts, which are also blowing up tonight. I can’t catch a fucking break.
Prez: Heard about Viper. We cool? Or do we need church?
Bitty goes on about me not giving her what she needs as I reply to Big.
Me: We’re cool.
We’re not, but I’m not lettin’ our prez get involved in this. Viper’s a manwhore. Of course, he’d go sniffin’ around Jade. I mean… can ya blame him? Look at her. She’s… well… she’s Jade. She’s always been a smokeshow and will always be a smokeshow. He’d be a moron not to shoot his shot. Still, she didn’t have to dance with him. She could have said no. She could have socked him in the face when he touched her ass, but she didn’t. She let him put his hands on her. She didn’t stand up for herself. His hands were on her ass. On it. Full fucking palms, groping and… I…
Gritting my teeth at the memory, I pull up Viper’s thread. As I jab out a colorful response, one from him pops up with a photo attached of his ugly mug.
Viper: Ya got me good, brother. Busted nose and a black eye. Two for one. Those bitches were damn good in bed. You really pulled through, and Jade’s a good wingman. Thank her for me, will ya? Oh, and don’t worry, I’m not movin’ in on your territory. She’s all yours.
Oh. That’s how it is.
