“Fucking hell, I need a drink,” I state, scrubbing my hands over my face.
I search the crowd for Stevie, even though deep down I know she is not here. I fucking hurt her, so why would she stay.
“Now we celebrate, brother,” Savage slings his arm around my shoulders.
And we do back at the club. We drink and party. My street friends join us, and the only thing missing is my girl. I drink more to numb the pain of missing her, until I pass out.
Not my finest moment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
STEVIE
“I am sure that this will pass soon,” I say quietly into the phone, faking that I have a migraine.
Silly I know, but after what happened last night, going into work was the last thing I wanted to do. There was no way that I could smile and pretend to be happy in front of guests when my heart was cracked open.
“Rest up, and keep me updated, okay.”
“Sure.” We hang up, and I snuggle back down into the sofa.
I pull my soft blanket over my head, leaving my face exposed so I can see the TV. The first Transformers movie is playing, but even the funny Sam Witwicky cannot make me feel better.
My heart broke all the way home. I did not even make it to my room— I camped out on my sofa and cried. His words echo in my head, and seeing her touch him still makes me sick to my stomach. Even now, wrapped up in my blanket, the ache refuses to fade.
I wish I could quiet my mind and escape the pain, but it won't stop.
I thought he was different, but clearly, I was wrong.
Lesson learned.
My life used to be simple and happy, but now I'm stuck on an emotional roller-coaster that I want to get off of. Heartbreak sucks, and I don't want to feel this anymore.
Reaching for my Cheetos, I snack on them, simply because I need to eat something. I do not think my stomach is up for anything else right now, and I also need to shower. I stink.
When I came home, I kicked off my boots, grabbed some snacks, and curled up in the exact same place I am in now. I have not moved.
The crunch of the chips echoes in my head, making me wince. The headache I have is painful enough that I should take pain pills, but not enough to make me move to get them.
God, I suck.
My life sucks.
Everything sucks.
Thinking of Crash, fresh tears fill my eyes, making Prime go all watery on the TV screen. I am not only hurt, but I am disappointed in myself for falling for what he was feeding me.
After my last two boyfriends cheated, I saw the signs but did nothing, and I swore that I would be different the next time. But he freaking fooled me— all sweet talking, and touches— he knew. Hell, he is a freaking biker after all, and they are known for not being monogamous.
Well, Valarie-skanky-butt can have him. She is welcome to his kind of bull crap, because I do not want it.
Angrily swiping tears away with my blanket, I focus on the movie. I want explosions, screaming, and machines being ripped in half to take my mind off what I want to do to Crash and Val.
Maybe I could scratch his bike. I scoff. No, I can’t do that. That is not me.
Maybe it should be. A voice in my head makes itself known.
No. I am not a vindictive person; I just want to live a simple, happy, healthy life and clearly being with Logan is not that.
