“I agree. It shouldn’t have, but it did… for both of us, didn’t it?”
Slowly, she nods her head. “I remember the first time I realized you were running the MC.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nods her head. “I had pulled in to get gas as you guys were leaving. You walked out as I got out of my car. And I heard your voice before I even saw you. I spun around as you got on the bike. You looked over and I was hoping you saw me. But you pulled off anyway, and it hurt. I tried to tell myself that you had something else going on. That, I could see it in your eyes, but it still hurt.”
Sighing, I’m shaking my head as I debate what I’m going to do. “Come on.” I mumble as I pull her out of the lounge and up the staircase off of the kitchen, down the hallway and I punch in the code quickly before we’re stepping into my room.
“You’re right.” I sigh out before I even turn around, but I force myself to and I look up at her, ashamed of what I’m about to say. “I saw you.” I step into her. “Your hair was this pastel pink color.” She looks at the ground, biting onto her lip. “You were wearing a black summer dress and these shoes that were obnoxiously tall. All I could think about was pulling you into the bathroom, bending you over, and fucking you until everyone heard you moaning my name, but you’re right, I had other shit going on.” Her eyes darken and I step into her more, my hand finding its way to her hip. “I saw you again a couple of months later, but you didn’t see me.”
“Are you sure about that?” She whispers and I can’t help but laugh and nod my head.
“I was sitting outside of your house.”
“Why?”
“I guess just to make sure that you were okay… I dunno, it’s just something I did for a while.”
“How many times did you come to my house?” She whispers, after she’s finally able to catch her breath.
“I dunno, once every couple of months, for like 2 years.”
“What?” Her eyes light up as she asks it. A slight smirk spreading on her lips.
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“But you didn’t want me to see you?” She whispers, and I can hear the hurt in her voice.
“It’s complicated.”
Nodding her head, she starts again. “And you stopped when you got arrested?” She whispers, looking at me again.
“Looks like I wasn’t the only one stalking the other.”
She looks down at me coyly before taking a step away.
“But yes, I stopped because I got arrested. Although I still had someone checking on you.” I whisper as I lean over her again.
Her head turns back to look up at me. “I was there the whole trial. When the judge sentenced you, I was so angry.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I mean, it was completely just. I mean, I did it. It was kind of hard to argue.”
“Wait…” she whispers as her eyes widen and she looks back up at me. “You did?”
“Yup.” The ‘p’ pops more than I intend it to.
“Why?”
I shrug. At first I think I’ll just leave it at that. Anyone else, anyone except for her, I would tell to fuck off. “The fucking prick deserved it.” She doesn’t give up and I can feel her still staring at me. “He betrayed us.”
“What did he do?” She whispers.
I look at her and pause. Why do I want to tell her? Why do I feel like I can? I don’t even fucking know this girl. She’s just someone I hooked up with years ago and then we disappeared from one another’s lives. “He sold us out. Told a rival our business, when our meet was going down.” What I keep to myself is how he had dragged her name into the shit, telling these rivals that she was the only weakness I had. “You came to the trial?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
