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“You saw him tonight, I’m guessing?”
With a low and steady nod, I look down at my hands and wish I was still holding my bottle. I lean to the side and grab it roughly, cupping it in my hands and pick at the label, anything so I don’t have to look at my best friend.
“Did you speak to him?”
I lift an eyebrow and raise my gaze to her, “Oh yeah, I caught him with one of the club sluts enjoying his freedom, obviously.” Even to my ears I sound bitter. “He looked fucking good though. He’s huge, so much bigger than before I left.” I can’t afford to be caught up by Levi again. It’s not in my best interest, but Levi can’t find out that I’ve slept with Mac, even if he hasn’t been around.
Jesus, how did I let this happen? How stupid can one person be?
Neve slides her hand over mine. “Seems to me you still have feelings for him.”
“Feelings?” I scoff, “I can’t have feelings for Levi Brown. One,” I hold a finger up, “there’s only three things Levi Brown loves, himself first, his brothers second, then the sluts. All in that order, and number two, if my dad thinks I’m having anything to do with his sergeant again, my life won’t be worth living.”
“Is it really that bad?” Again, I scoff at her question. It’s not fair on her, but she has no idea. “Look, I'm sure things will work out in the end,” Neve adds, clasping my fingers to give me some comfort. “You know what that saying is, ‘If it’s meant to be and all that…”
God, how I wished I had some friends in this godforsaken fucking life, at least then they could see how difficult this is, but I don’t. I have Neve, and that’s it. My forlorn gaze falls to her hand then back up to her face, she looks sad for me so instead, I try to smile, “I doubt it,” I sigh, “things are about to get worse, so if you like excitement, strap yourself in baby, and be ready for the rocky ride.” I down the contents of my beer. The only thing I can be glad of is that he doesn’t know where I live, and he doesn’t have my number. My father won’t give it to him; that I can rely on. I guess I’ll have to hope my father sends him on a ride tomorrow, before I go back.
“Why don’t you tell me about him? Not about his past, but about you and him.”
“Top and tail of it, he broke my heart and I’m not willing to put it on the line again.”
Kissing her cheek, I tightly smile as we stare at each other for what feels like forever then she wraps me in a hug. I enjoy her comfort for a moment, it’s been so long since I’ve had a real hug from anyone. I soon break it with a thank you whispered in her ear and push up from the couch. With my bottle thrown in the trash, I head to bed.
CHAPTER 4
CHAINS
I’ve forgotten how bad a tequila-fueled hangover is, and right now it feels like Metallica have set up camp in my head. I look back at the bed I’ve just rolled from and wonder how the hell I even got there. My fingers lightly scratch my weary head. I turn my eyes downcast and gaze down at myself, confused to see that I’m still dressed. Obviously, I didn’t have company last night. With a push forward, and my hand on the door, I hold my weight up and steady myself while I try to flatten my unruly hair. It needs a fucking cut. I can’t handle it this long.
My fucking head is pounding. I press the heel of my hand firmly to my forehead, but it does nothing for the pain. I need Advil. I tug the door open, and with one foot placed carefully in front of the other, I leave my room and go out into the clubhouse. It’s quiet, apart from a couple of voices somewhere in the room, I can't focus well enough to even know where they’re coming from. Instead, I stop at the nearest table and pull out a chair to sit my ass down and rest my head on my forearm on the table.
“I didn’t expect you to be up yet.”
My eyes open to a squint as I twist my head around, I can’t see anyone, but I know his voice; it’s that dickhead, Reaper. His heavy steps thud on the ground as he crosses the room. They stop next to me; I look up, trying to make his face out, but my vision is still blurry. I give up, nestling my cheek back against my arm and close my eyes again. No more than a few minutes later the smell of coffee attacks my senses and wafts up my nose, creating a mirage as I open my heavy eyelids but it really is there. Coffee.
“Try being up at the crack of dawn every morning, but to the sound of what I think was a large fucking bell, echoing down the wing like a siren.” I croak out, attempting to drag myself to sit up.
As a chair scrapes along the tiled floor, it makes me cringe, and I squeeze my eyes shut again. The fucking sound goes right through me, I open my eyes as it stops and scowl at the bastard that caused it.
“True,” Reaper adds as my foggy brain just about works out that he’s answered me, “but you didn’t wake up with a steaming hangover while you were in the joint.” My eyes sting, I need more sleep. “Drink your coffee, Pres wants to see you before Church.”
“Ah fuck. Really? Let me grab an hour then I’ll see him.”
“You haven’t got an hour.”
My eyes close on a huff, but they pop back open as I grab my cup, “You got some Advil?”
The bastard smirks as he pushes out the chair, yet again the feet scrape along the floor, and lift my hand back to my head. “Can’t you be a little fucking quieter?” attempting to raise my voice but it’s probably a fucking whisper for all I know. I hear him chuckling as he walks away, cocksucker. I sip on my hot drink. It's extra strong, just the way I like it. It’s like the nectar of the Gods as it awakens my dead soul. It needs to wake me up enough to meet with Pres, otherwise he’s going to rip me a new asshole.
Two tablets are placed on the table in front of me and a bottle of water is set down next to them. “Thanks,” I glance up as Reaper shakes his head in disgust.
“Man, you are fucked up.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” I unscrew the cap from the bottle and guzzle down my tablets then bang the bottle down on the table. My empty stomach flips from too much water as I pick up my cup of coffee. “I feel sick, man.” With one hand on my stomach and my coffee in my other, I make my way out. With my stomach gurgling at me, I walk the hall as quickly as I can and disappear into my room, kick the door shut behind me and put my cup down. The room spins as I begin to sweat from beneath my tee, and I sit down on the edge of the bed for just a second, breathing slow and deep, attempting to stop the contents of my stomach making an appearance; it’s not enough, though. Saliva gathers in my mouth, and sweat bales out of me. Suddenly, I shoot up and run for the restroom, making it just in time to spew down the toilet rather than on the floor.
Once I know I’m done, I wipe my mouth on some tissue and flush it before standing up and stumbling back to my room and collapsing on the bed. Within seconds my eyes are shut.
Just five minutes; a power nap is all I need.
