Page 83 of Peaks and Promises

Pain crossed her features. It felt like being stabbed in the chest.

“I really want to believe you,” she said. “But this is a lot, and this pan is heavy. I’m going inside. I need a minute.”

I watched her go, the weight of guilt and failure sitting heavily on my shoulders.

Damn it.

Pocketing my phone, I wandered past the shop and into the woods. She had said she needed a minute, and I could give her that.

The air was cooler in the shade of the pine trees. Squirrels scampered around, darting away before I got close, and birds chirped above me.

I hadn’t gone far when the back of my neck prickled. Someone was coming.

Summer stepped around the side of my dad’s shop, and I walked back to meet her.

“I probably walked off too quickly,” she said. “It just freaked me out to hear you say that.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was always going to, I just wasn’t sure how.”

She nodded slowly. “You’re actually out? They let you go?”

“That’s less complicated when the club no longer exists.”

“What happened?”

“We got into a war with another club. The two presidents had history that went way back. It got ugly. A lot of guys died, including the higher-ups on both sides. Those of us who were left didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. What were we bleeding for? Territory? Money? Some old rivalry we hadn’t started? We’d had enough, so we agreed to disband.”

“What about the other club?”

“They’re still around, but they never really recovered.”

“So that was it?”

“Pretty much. Some of us stuck together. Started the business we have now doing private security. It makes use of our skills. And I guess it’s a way to make up for some of the damage we did before.”

She glanced away. “Mayhem never lets anyone go. It’s the only club I know, so I thought…”

“You thought I’ve been lying to you.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. I knew it wouldn’t be easy for you to hear.”

She met my eyes. “Is that why you didn’t come home for so long? You didn’t want them to know?”

I wanted to look away—to break the scrutiny of her gaze. But I didn’t. “Yes. I left on bad terms to begin with. And I stayed away because I didn’t want them to know who I’d become.”

“But that’s not who you are now.”

“No, it’s not. And for reasons I can’t fathom, they forgave me.”

She smiled. “They love you. And they’re happy to have you home.”

I nodded. Whether or not I understood it, she was right.

“Is that where you got your scar?” She pointed at the side of my jaw. “The club war?”

I rubbed the spot. “This? No. I got this out here, actually. Climbed too high up a tree and fell. Hit a branch on the way down.”