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“Wait,” Kelsey interjected. “You did it more than once?”
Oops. Carrie had left that detail out when she’d spoken to her best friend. “Does that matter? We weren’t a thing. What we had was casual sex. No strings attached. I thought of all the people in the world who could be friends with benefits, a biker could.”
“Maybe he got attached.”
Unlikely. Bikers didn’t do that. Except Kevlar. He appeared to be quite smitten with Kelsey. Then again, Carrie had only seen him when they were together, so she wasn’t privy to what he did when Kelsey wasn’t around.
None of these motorcycle dickwads could be trusted.
“Well, that’s his problem,” Carrie snapped. “Though I doubt it. He’s the one who moved out. I didn’t ask him to. He just up and left one day.”
“None of this makes sense.”
“Preaching to the choir.”
To be fair, Carrie had been riding an emotional roller coaster since he left. She hadn’t been sure how she was supposed to feel about it. One minute she missed him, the next she enjoyed the freedom of being on her own and not defined by the person she dated.
Through it all, she’d never thought he judged her. Not when she cried so hard snot exploded from her nose or when he’d discovered her scorpion tattoo. He’d shown his true colors when he’d walked out on her after he finally had a place to stay. She’d been a roof over his head and a warm bed—nothing more.
Had he lied to her about the promise to her brother? What about the protection thing?
“Carrie?” Kelsey broke into Carrie’s spiraling thoughts.
“Yeah?” She shook off the dangerous rabbit hole she was about to fall into.
“Did you hear me?”
“No. The call cut out,” she lied. Her own speculation had drowned out anything her friend had said.
“Okay, well, I’m in the car and headed your way. Got a bottle of pinot and everything.”
Carrie frowned. “You don’t have to do that.” Especially since she needed a stiffer drink than white girl wine.
“Yes, I do,” Kelsey declared.
Before Carrie could suggest vodka, her friend continued speaking.
“It’s in the best friend handbook. I failed you once, and I won’t do it again.”
What did that mean? Did Kelsey think she was responsible for what happened? Which wasn’t true. “You need to understand something,” Carrie began. “I’ve been through enough therapy to understand that I am not the reason Mike and his friends did what they did. So, if it wasn’t my fault, then it can’t be yours. Got it? The blame belongs on Mike’s shoulders, and Mike’s alone. Am I clear?”
“I—”
“No!” Carrie said firmly. “I’m serious. Don’t take on shit that isn’t yours. Leave it where it belongs. See you in a few.”
Kid
Kid should’ve stopped Carrie. Letting her leave in that state of mind—believing whatever had gotten her that upset—was the wrong move. With his teeth clenched, he curled his fingers into a fist. Whirling around, he threw a punch right through his drywall.
Letting out a howl, he raked his fingers through his hair, gripping it at the roots, and he yanked. He’d never felt this out of control before. Carrie had him all out of sorts.
He thought he’d done the right thing. By leaving her apartment, stopping their arrangement, he’d set her free. The sacrifices he’d made for her had blown up in his face.
With a roar, he threw another fist into the wall. What did it matter? One hole, two, or seven at this point? Unfortunately, making Swiss cheese out of his studio wouldn’t fix what he’d done, but he didn’t have any other ideas.
Well, that was a lie.
He had one idea.