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I laughed. “Kid? She’s not much younger than us.”
“Age doesn’t mean shit when your maturity levels are out of whack, Tatum.”
“That’s true.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why do you look so tired? They working you hard?”
He sighed. “When do they not?”
Duvall was a good-looking guy. Blond hair, a strong jaw, and blue eyes that saw more than anyo
ne knew gave him a face that women never forgot. And when they got a look at his tall, well-built body they threw themselves at him. The thing I respected the hell out of was the fact he never used any of those things to work his way through a string of women. Duvall was one of the good guys. His kindness and honesty were just a couple of the reasons I forgave his attitude towards me since I’d left the law. I knew he was disappointed in the choices I’d made for my life and that his disappointment manifested as moodiness or anger.
I jerked my chin at the club. “What brings you out here?”
His eyes held mine. “You.”
There was something in his tone that made me want to walk away from this conversation. But I didn’t. My friend deserved more than that. “What’s up?”
“How are you?”
Oh, God. I definitely did not want to have this conversation. Duvall liked to push me for more than I wanted to give. He came from a touchy-feely family who spewed their emotions all over the damn place. Great people, but I was out when it came to doing that. I gave him a smile, as if that would be enough. “I’m doing well.”
“Yeah, see that’s where I don’t believe you.” And out came the side of Duvall I didn’t like—his arrogant side. This was the Duvall who thought he knew better than me. He didn’t drag his arrogance out often, but when he did, I hated it because it usually ended in us having a fight.
I cocked my head, my annoyance flaring. “Why?” I challenged him, my tone one step away from bitchy.
“Tatum, don’t bullshit me. I see straight through it.”
“I don’t know what bullshit you think I’m feeding you, or why you think that, but I’m telling you that I’m okay and life is good.”
He raked his fingers through his hair and muttered, “Fuck.” He paused for a beat before throwing out, “I’ve seen the footage of you leaving the casino with that asshole biker, so I bloody know you are not okay.”
Oh fuck. I thought only Silver Hell had seen that footage. My mouth formed an oh, but I quickly snapped it shut when he zeroed in on it. “It’s not what you thin—”
Anger filled his features. “For fuck’s sake, don’t give me that line. I deserve more than that from you.” He thumped his chest, his eyes wild. “I was the one who was there for you when Randall tossed you to the wolves. I was the one who picked up the pieces with you after he broke you. And I’m the one who has stuck by your side all this time. I deserve more than your lies.”
I knew I should have avoided this conversation. It had gone from bad to epic proportions of fucked in less than a minute. I couldn’t tell Duvall the truth, but I had to give him something because otherwise he would go after Nitro for something he didn’t do. My mind raced with an answer, and for once, it failed. This was usually one of my strengths, stringing a line of bullshit together to get people out of shit, but not that day. Instead I stood in front of my oldest friend—the one who had stuck by me even though he never knew the truth of why I committed the sins I did—and stared at him in silence while my heart cracked a little more, if that was even possible.
I was tired of the lies.
Exhausted by the thought of hiding parts of my life for a second longer.
I didn’t want to live like this anymore. I wanted the life I should have had, not this one.
When I didn’t say anything, Duvall grabbed my bicep. “He beat you, Tatum! Black and blue. How can you stand here and deny that when it was clear as day to see on that footage? Fuck, I can’t even wrap my head around you dating him after that.”
I didn’t attempt to wriggle out of his hold. I just wanted this to all go away. But I couldn’t figure out what excuse to give him to make him leave it be.
Neither of us heard men approaching. We were both so engrossed in our conversation. It wasn’t until King’s voice cut through the air that we turned to see him watching Duvall with a murderous gaze.
“Let her go or you’ll have me to deal with.” He didn’t raise his voice but he spoke in a low, threatening tone that couldn’t be mistaken. I had no doubt that King would hurt Duvall if he didn’t do as ordered. The thing I couldn’t work out, though, was why King was taking my back.
Duvall dropped my arm and stepped back. He opened his mouth to speak, but something caught his attention behind King and suddenly he stalked towards whatever it was.
And then he began issuing his own threats. “You fucking asshole! I’m going to make you pay for what you did to her!”
I turned just in time to see Duvall throw a punch and to see Nitro duck to avoid it before landing his fist on Duvall’s face. He knocked Duvall backwards and raised his fist as if he was about to punch him again, but then thought better of it and dropped his arm.
King yanked Duvall away from Nitro and roared, “Enough!” as Duvall attempted to get another punch in.
