"Don't do that," I said. "Don't give me the club… Give me the real reason." Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. I was sad, not angry, but I let anger be my edge to help me avoid crying.
Garret balled up his fists and clenched his jaw as he looked away from me. I really thought I had a shot at convincing him that I wanted more, that we could be more, but he wasn't budging. I didn't know if it was because I was so young or if it was because my father hated bikers. Either way, there was always a risk that this would happen if I brought this up.
"Say something," I said quietly, but Garret shook his head and bared his teeth briefly, then let his head drop.
"No, Sara. I told you—just sex, no emotions. I can't get involved with you." He couldn't even look me in the eye when he said it, which meant he either really thought that little of me that he could use me as his blow-up doll and turn me loose, or he did care. He was just too chicken to say so.
It hurt. Really bad.
It hadn’t been that long, and some women waste years on the wrong man before they're brave enough to admit it's not working, but I wasn't like that. I wanted commitment or nothing. I didn't want to waste time on something that was fruitless and had no future, not even at my age.
"Okay," I said quietly. "Then I'm done."
"Don't be like that," he grumbled, finally looking at me. "Why are you doing this?"
"I'm not being like anything. I'm being honest with you." It hurt more than I'd prepared myself for, but I kept going because I knew I deserved better. "I'm falling in love with you, and I can't keep doing this if you won't even admit I exist outside of this shed. It's not fair to me."
"Come on. Really? You're being ridiculous…" I saw the pain in his eyes and the way he pulled back like I'd smacked him, but I did deserve better. And he knew it.
"It's over, Crank," I spat out, using his biker name like an insult, though I regretted it when it was out.
He turned away, and I heard him exhale hard through his nose, and then his hand shot out and closed around a can of green beans on the nearest shelf and the metal buckled under his grip like it was nothing before the top split open and fresh beans oozed from it. He set it back down without looking at it and then walked to the door, and I thought for one second he was going to turn around.
But he didn't. The door swung shut behind him and I was alone with a busted can of green beans and a broken heart, all because I was foolish enough to think a man his age would be mature enough to know how to treat a woman.
God, I was so dumb to let myself get carried away emotionally. The sex really was good, and he made me feel incredible. And I knew no matter if it was four months or four years, at some point, I was bound to catch feelings for him because that was what happened when you got that intimate with someone sexually. But maybe my father's warnings were right.
There was a reason those bikers had dysfunctional relationships and got into trouble all the time, and there was a perfectly goodreason Garret was in his forties and not married yet, or at least attached. I just ignored every red flag because of the chemistry we had. Now I was left regretting it and bawling my eyes out on my break, when I should've been relaxing.
Mom would be looking for me, and if she came out here and saw those ruined green beans, I was in trouble. I'd have to toss them in the dumpster before she noticed or risk getting lectured. It wouldn't be the first time.
I mopped up my face and ran my fingers through my hair, and I was reaching for the door when I heard voices outside.
I stopped.
They were close—just around the corner by the dumpsters—and something about the pitch of them made me go still without thinking. They were hushed, but they weren't civil or friendly. It sounded like a lover's spat or something.
A woman's voice, and then a man's, and my stomach dropped the second I recognized the second one. The man sounded exactly like Tony, otherwise known as Lightning, one of the club members. I'd known him by reputation my whole life, though since getting to know Garret better, I'd learned more horror stories about the man. And there wasn't a version of this where I wanted to be accidentally standing ten feet away from him in the dark.
I pressed myself against the wall and crept to the edge where I could peek out the door that stood cracked open so I could see who he was talking to.
"You need to delete every single one of those messages," Tony said. "Tonight—all of it."
"I'm not doing that." The woman stood her ground, and I watched her shove a phone into her pocket. "I should never have gotten involved with you. You're sick. I'm telling Fox everything."
I winced as she backed away, and I watched Tony's fist ball up.
"Mandy," he growled in a warning, "think very carefully about what you're saying."
"I have been thinking about it," she said. "The first time was just a mistake. Every time after that was a horrible choice, and we're done. I'm telling my husband."
"You don't just get to decide that."
"Yes, I do. It's my life and it's my marriage and Fox deserves to?—"
The gagging sound she made when he grabbed her throat made me shudder, and I watched as her feet lifted off the ground and her hands wrapped around his wrist. It scared the hell out of me and I almost screamed. Lightning had both of his hands wrapped around her neck as the veins in his neck bulged and his face turned red. He was going to kill her.
I shoved the door open and ran, because my body made that decision before my brain could weigh in. I darted toward the parking lot and the mass of cars. Garret's bike was already gone and a few others were at the back of the lot near my dirtbike, which I climbed on and kickstarted faster than I ever had.
