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Still miffed, she rearranges her blouse and checks her earrings. “You don’t know shit. The things I’ve endured over the years.”
“That’s on you. Don’t like it, you’ve always been free to leave.”
She barks out a harsh laugh. “Leave? With the dirt I know? You think Sway would let me walk away?” she says in a harsh whisper. “Live in hiding unprotected for the rest of my life?”
She might have a point, but I just don’t care. “It’s not an excuse to make everyone around you miserable.”
“I’m not like Rose. I didn’t ignore the club and want to play house in the suburbs. I helped hold things together.”
Helped run the club into the ground is probably more like it. But the fact that she has the nerve to mention Rose’s name pisses me right the fuck off again. “You nailed one thing. You’re nothing like Rose.”
“That’s right. I stood by my man when he was inside.”
Ouch. That zinger of truth lands hard.
“You might’ve stayed, but you couldn’t help sticking your nose wherever it didn’t belong and causing trouble.”
“Someone had to take control of things around here.”
“You admitting your man was a weak president?” I sneer.
Her lips pinch. Lie and claim Sway wasn’t weak or betray her man by speaking the truth? Hard choice for a woman with a skewed sense of loyalty.
“From what I’ve gathered, your man’s ineptitude almost got him killed and put the whole club in jeopardy. So, from where I’m standing, you should be thanking every demon you pray to that he wasn’t voted out bad or sent six feet under.” I drill her with a stare she can’t escape.
“The fuck do you know? You weren’t here,” she seethes.
“That’s right. I was in prison. Where your buddy Ruger put me.”
“Well, your boy settled that score when he got out, didn’t he?”
The nerve of her to refer to Rock as my boy. But I’m not admitting or denying anything about Ruger’s disappearance. “Fifteen years, Tawny. Think of all the things you’ve been able to do over the last fifteen years. Raised your kids. Fucked your man—and whoever else fell into your web—spending his money, traveling all over, eating what you wanted, doing what you wanted, whenever you wanted.”
Her shoulders slump and shame clouds her expression. “I thought about you a lot.”
“I’m sure you did. Probably praying I’d never see the light of day.”
“That’s not true,” she whispers, so softly I barely catch the words. “I hated what happened to you.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Then show me. Otherwise, I’ll keep assuming you’re full of shit.”
“How? What’s gonna make you believe me?”
“Let go of however you felt about Serena in the past and start over.”
“All right.” Defeat shines in her eyes and she nods once. “I’ll try to get to know her differently this time.”
Don’t think I didn’t notice the lack of apology, bitch.
“Don’t force it, Tawny.” The last thing Serena needs is Tawny’s fake friendship. “Treat her with the same respect you would the other old ladies.”
“Old.” She snorts. “I’m the oldest damn one, now. Can’t mother the girls. I gotta grandma them.”
As if she ever had a motherly bone in her body. But finally, I chuckle. I understand the feeling. “Yeah, gettin’ old is a bitch but it beats the alternative.”
“I guess.” She peers up at me. “You’re really embracing the biker stereotype of old guy going after the hot young thing, huh?”
“Going back on your word already?”
“Not at all.” Her lips curve into a sly smile. “That’s a dig at you, not her.”
I choke on a laugh. For a brief second, I get a glimpse of the brash and funny twenty-something Tawny had been when I first started hanging around the club. Before she made lots of bad choices that turned her bitter. I follow her gaze to a group of club girls circling one of the younger brothers.
“You hate them because they remind you of the mistakes you made when you were their age?” I ask.
Her eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me you got your degree in psychology while you were inside.”
“Nah, just gained some perspective. Life is short. We should enjoy the time we have left. Staring in the rear-view mirror instead of looking at the road ahead leads to miles of misery.”
“Great, you’re a philosopher now, too.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“There a problem, Grinder?” Sway asks slowly as he ambles up beside his wife.
Nice timing, asshole. “Not at all, brother. Having a conversation with your wife. Wanted her to understand that if she throws her famous attitude at my girl, we’re gonna have issues.”
One corner of his mouth quivers. Bet he’d be smirking if he wasn’t still fucked up from the bullet to the head.
I keep my expression flat. “I ain’t laughing.”
“Who’s your girl?” His sarcastic tone pushes me toward the red zone. “Serena? Saw she’s wearing your patch. When’d that happen?”
