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Lucas Young might have watched my back when we were in the Army, but I can’t count on him to watch Desirae’s. If I find out what this thumb drive bullshit is about, and it leads back to Wellington, I’m gonna kill that motherfucker in Chicago, anyway. I won’t take the chance of the man threatening Des’s life in any way ever again.
Pushing the button to go down, I don’t look back at my door, which I haven’t bothered to lock, or the door to the stairwell where I damn near broke my neck because I’m too defective to use them. No, I can’t stand the sight of either anymore. Everywhere I look in my place, I see Desirae: from us doing exercises in my living room to her being dragged out of my front door. With the stairwell, I don’t need to be reminded anymore that I’m no longer the man I used to be. Failing my woman was all the proof I needed on that score.
I take the elevator down, walk out into the parking lot, and climb inside my Camaro since my busted hips still hurt too badly to ride my Harley. Once I fire up the engine, my tires peel out as I haul ass and head straight to the one place I can think to go: After Midnight.
If tonight isn’t a night for drowning my problems, I don’t know what is. And I won’t go to Alibi, because I don’t want to take the chance of seeing my brother. Not because he will see me drinking. Nope. I don’t even give a rat’s ass about that right now like I normally would. No, I don’t want Evan to ask me what’s wrong or pat my back and tell me it will be okay, because it won’t. I’m not sure anything in my life will ever be okay again.
Stalking through the club’s front doors, I push my way through the crowd, ignoring the greetings of my brothers and the invitations from the dancers and head straight for the pretty brunette bartender.
Plopping my ass on a stool, I order a double shot of whiskey. The bartender raises an eyebrow in a silent question I don’t bother to answer. Then she pours my drink and slides it across the bar to me.
I down the burning liquid in a few gulps, slam the glass back on the bar top, and demand another. She silently pours me a second drink, which I drain just as fast as the first.
The next time I motion with my fingers for her to fill me up again, she doesn’t pour right away.
“You gonna be able to walk out of here tonight, boss man?”
I snort at the irony of her words. Walk out of here. Hell, I can barely walk period. After today, what the fuck does it matter if I can drunkenly walk myself anywhere?
Bracing my hands on the bar top, I lean forward and growl, “Do I look like I care about how the fuck I get out of here tonight? Right now, all I want is enough alcohol to erase my day. So do me a favor, babe; pour my drinks and leave me the fuck alone.”
Her eyes go wide at my statement, because I have never talked to her or any of the other girls that way. Coal is the one who is always an asshole to them. Ice is nice but professional. Me? I used to give them loads of sugar so they would give me all of their sass and spice. Now, I couldn’t care less what a single one of them think of me.
I just pushed the only woman who mattered to me besides my mother out of my life.
Any other broad isn’t even a blip on my radar.
~Desirae~
He let me go. For the first time in my life, I had something for myself, and I couldn’t hold on to it. I stand in Evan’s living room and sob, my hands covering my face as I do my best to muffle my cries. Pulling my hands down from my eyes, I wipe the tears off my cheeks and glance at my new surroundings.
Evan’s place is smaller than Ethan’s but nicer. Outfitted more like a home instead of just a place to stay, it looks cozy with throw pillows on the couch and an ottoman to rest your feet on. Yet, I don’t feel at home at all because my home just walked out the door and left me behind.
Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away. I can get by until the Hellions get here. Tank will take me home, and I can find a way to start over. It’s funny, when I took the job to be Tank’s personal physical therapist, Suzie was worried about me tying my life to a motorcycle club.
