Page 30 of Hades

My heart sank. I blew it. The first chance at a relationship after my divorce, and it was over before it barely even got started.

Chapter nine

Hades

On Friday night, the clubhouse was crammed with people. I slouched at a table in the corner, alone, examining the depths of my glass. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Pretty Boy and Lila talking at the bar, gesturing in my direction.

I groaned as Pretty Boy made his way to my table. He settled into the booth across from me.

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said flatly.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?”

I shook my head.

“Not a drop.”

Pretty Boy narrowed his eyes, skeptical. I shoved my glass toward him, sliding it across the table. He caught it and gave it a sniff.

“Apple juice?”

“With sparkling water to jazz it up.”

“So, you’re actually sober?” Pretty Boy ventured.

“Unfortunately. Wish I wasn’t, though, if that counts for anything.”

Pretty Boy heaved a sigh and shook his head. Word travels fast in a small town, and even faster in a motorcycle club. Everyone had heard what happened on Jenny’s front lawn a week ago.

“When was the last time you slept in your own bed?” Pretty Boy asked.

I grimaced and shrugged.

“Doesn't matter."

Bruiser and Ironside dumped me in one of the back rooms of the clubhouse to sleep off my drunk stupor last week, and I’d been here ever since. I didn’t have the guts to face my apartment, with Mia and Casey’s empty beds, knowing my children were slipping through my fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Pretty Boy folded his arms on the table, leaning close.

“Your kids love you, Hades,” he said. “This lawyer prick can get the law on his side all he wants, but in the end, Mia and Casey are fighters, just like their Dad. They won’t give up on you.”

I nodded, grateful to have his support. Sometimes, I had to admit that it wasn’t easy learning how to take orders from a President who was more than a decade younger than me. Especially when Pretty Boy used to be such a smug, cocky hothead. His marriage to Lila had balanced him out these past few years though, shaping him into a leader worth following.

“Bruiser says you should break this new boyfriend’s kneecaps,” Pretty Boy added.

I huffed a laugh.

“Believe me, that’s tempting. But if he makes my Jenny happy—truly happy—I won’t fuck it up for her. I’ve done enough damage already.”

A flicker of movement drew my attention past Pretty Boy’s shoulder, to the clubhouse door. Bikers, drifters, and club bunnies had been filing in and out all night, so it shouldn’t have made a difference to me who came and went by now.

But something pulled my gaze toward the door anyway. I spotted my Jenny, standing on the threshold. Her lemon yellow sundress was freckled with little white daisies, and her hair was curled in ringlets around her face, with a touch of blush on her cheeks and eyeliner…

My Jenny was dressed up for a date.

My stomach sank at that realization. She scanned the clubhouse until she found Lila by the bar, and her face crumpled.