She laughs seeing my reaction.
“Bikers can never be trusted to stay faithful and willdo anything and anyoneto get what they need.” She smirks.
I rip my arm from her grasp, making her laugh. Well not laugh, but cackle like a deranged witch.
“What happened to you?” Tears fill my eyes, seeing my long-time friend as a criminal and someone who now bullies others.
“I grew up and learned that you have to look out for yourself, or you die. We all can’t have families to look out for us, Stevie.”
“So, you hate me because I had a family who loved me? Do you not see how fucked up that is?” My hurt and anger bubble to the surface.
She just told me she had sex with the man I am dating, but is also now criticizing my family life.
Hell no.
“Wow. Look at you being a big girl and cussing at me.” She spreads her arms in a mocking way.
Bitch.
“Oh, fuck off, Valarie. I am done with this shit,” I scoff. “Do you know what? You can keep Crash, he is not worth it.”
I walk away, needing to lock myself in the restroom to catch my breath and calm myself down before I burst into tears that no one wants to see.
“I plan to,” she shouts after me.
That jab sends razor blades into my heart.
I can’t believe he would do this, after declaring I was his when he was still inside of me. Did I look at this all wrong; was he just after one thing?
Was this some game that they played, knowing how I crushed on him in high school? My stomach churns, so I place my hand over my mouth and run inside of the hotel, making it to the restroom just in time to vomit.
I puke until dry heaves hit me, and my body aches. My heart hurts.
I can’t believe this.
There is a niggling voice that is telling me to talk to him first, but she mentioned his tattoos, which he did not have when he was in school. So, he must have had the collarbone tattoo done after he left. She would only see it if he were naked.
Sitting on the floor I contemplate what to do next, but my mind is racing in all different directions. I do not know what to think.
Why can’t life be simple?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CRASH
I walk into the main room with my phone in hand as I stare at the screen, pissed that Stevie has not replied to me. She finished work over an hour ago, but she has not read my text.
Letting out a huff, I pocket my phone and look around the room for Racer and Target.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need a word with you both?”
Target kicks the chair, telling me to sit.
“What is this about? I can’t be fucking dealing with any more woman drama,” Racer bitches.
“What women drama? Fuck, Pres, you need to get laid and enjoy a woman’s company for once,” Target jokes, and Racer flips him off.
“Anyway,” I butt in. “You know that I used to race when I left here.” They nod. “A friend of mine has informed me that a few street races could potentially be popping up here in the next month or two.”
