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I stepped around Bishop, determined to face Calli, and try to have her hear me out. Maybe she thought this was a fling. Maybe she thought we were just messing around for fun and would make things awkward in the future.
This wasn’t that at all. I wanted this to be my forever.
Bishop. Calli. The club.
I needed her to know that. To understand. “Calli, I—”
“How could you?” Calli hissed, her words cutting through the air between us like a sharp dagger aimed directly at my chest. “I go away for a few weeks, and you just leap into my dad’s bed? You plan on stopping with him or moving through the rest of the boys too?”
“Calliope!” Bishop roared, his reassuring hold on my hand tightening as I tried to back away.
No. I changed my mind. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to see that hurt in her eyes.
This was every fear Bishop and I had pushed past the last few weeks to get to where we were. The idea of hurting the one person we both loved more than anything had been debilitating, but there had been no fighting it.
There was no escaping the magnetic pull of an attraction that refused to be ignored.
I should have known. I should have seen this and not been so naïve in that stupid love-wins-out-over-everything mindset. I’d been so sure in the strength of our bond, scared to have to admit the truth to Calli but hopeful that when it came down to it, she’d see what everyone else seemed to see—a connection that we could have never fought.
Maybe she would. Maybe one day.
Or maybe we’d both made the biggest mistake of our lives, and I was about to once again lose everything.
“Shay, there’s someone at the gate for you,” Whip interrupted, shifting nervously on his feet as he stood in the doorway. “They said they’re from your work, and it’s really urgent.”
Matt?
Why would he be here?
I shook my head. “I can’t—”
Bishop gently pushed at my back. “Go, see what they want. It might be important.”
I inched toward the door, but tears were already beginning to well in my eyes, and I was practically choking on the lump in my throat. “Cal—”
“Just go,” she hissed, the pain in her voice crippling me. “I can’t look at you right now.”
Tucking my tail between my legs, I rushed out, Whip barely stepping out of the doorway before I plowed through him. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stomped across the clubhouse’s front yard to the large open gates.
Whip hurried behind me but gave me some space.
He was a sweet kid, and Bishop said he would get his full patch soon.
I was glad. He deserved it.
Squinting, I tried to see through the windshield of the car parked in the driveway, but the glare of the sun made it impossible. It wasn’t Matt’s car—far too fancy—but maybe he was driving his wife’s vehicle for some reason. The passenger window rolled down, and Whip waited at the gate for me as I walked around and ducked my head to see in.
“Don’t fucking scream.”
The barrel of the gun a foot from my face was the first thing I saw, making my entire body freeze like stone. Jason held it just below the dash and pointed up at me so if Whip could see in the car, he wouldn’t know.
“Jason, what are you doing?” I questioned quietly, trying not to draw Whip’s attention.
Jason was unhinged, but for the most part, he’d always been kind of calm and arrogant about it. Which was why I knew this was bad.
Really fucking bad.
Showing up to an MC clubhouse and pointing a gun at the president’s Old Lady kind of bad.
