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“I said no,” he repeated calmly as he walked around his desk. He placed a hand on the back of his chair but didn’t sit down. I clenched my fists, trying to remind myself that I needed to keep my emotions in check. “I know you, Chelsea. You’re scared. Your mind is telling you to get the fuck outta here. That’s what you do. Well, stop. Stop and talk to me.”
I hated that he knew me so well, and with the events of this morning it was evident that I didn’t know who he was at all. My mind wouldn’t work and my mouth felt dry. “She’s yours.”
He nodded. “She’s mine.”
“How old is she?”
I saw a smile tug in the corner of his mouth. I could tell just by that simple gesture that his love for his daughter was strong. “Harlyn is five.”
I swallowed, trying to wet my dry throat. “And her mom?”
His eyes met mine. “That would be Sugar.”
I coughed out a laugh and gripped a hold of the office chair that sat in front of me. “Awesome. Well, I wish you both the best.” I turned for the door.
“Sugar and I haven’t been together for a very long time,” he tried to explain. “My brothers are the only ones that knew about them, and they were never allowed to speak a word of it to anyone.”
I sighed but refused to turn around. “And you never thought that this was something that I deserved to know?”
“I don’t make a point of letting club whores know my business.”
I laughed and spun around to face him, pointing my finger accusingly. “And there it is.”
“That’s not what I—”
“No, don’t take it back now. Let’s just get it out there!” I beamed with fake enthusiasm. “You’re an MC President and I’m just a whore.”
He swung his fist and it slammed into the wall to his left. “Stop putting words in my fucking mouth, Chelsea!”
I flinched, but I powered through. There was no stopping now. I knew I was disrespecting him, I knew I was disrespecting the club, but the pain that this had caused was like a stab to the heart with a venomous knife, and slowly but surely the darkness was taking over my body. The logic in my brain told me that he really hadn’t done anything wrong.
He was right—I was just a club whore, and club whores had no business making demands or expecting information they weren’t entitled to.
But the pain in my heart wouldn’t stop. What had begun as a dull ache was now completely destroying me.
I was angry.
I was hurt.
I felt like I’d been deceived.
“Why can’t you just grow some balls and admit it?” I yelled at him across the room.
“You’re walking a fine line, Chelsea,” he growled over my outburst. He was furious.
“Just admit it. I’m not good enough for you!” Now the tears had started. They filled my eyes and quickly burst the small dam. I scowled through the tears, trying to hide the pain in my heart, behind the anger in my soul. “All I am to you is another piece of ass.”
Fake it till you make it.
Hide the pain.
Run.
I saw his face soften only slightly, and he moved around his desk toward me. “Chelsea, that’s not it.”
“Bullshit. I’m convenient, nothing more than that.” I shook my head. “I guess I’m not surprised. Three years we’ve been doing this ridiculous dance.”
“What do you want? You want me to make you an Old Lady?” he snapped.
