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“Thanks, Lyla,” Barrett says as he turns to the door.
“See ya, Barrett.”
As soon as he’s out the door, I shut and lock it behind him before turning around and slumping against it.
I thought Barrett was a good guy, that he wouldn’t get caught up in the stupid shit the motorcycle club does around here. And I hate being wrong, admitting to myself that he’s not as perfect as I always thought he was.
“Everything okay?” Holly asks when she tiptoes into the living room.
“No. My father has lost his mind.”
“What did he do now?”
“He kidnapped the Savage Kings’ prospect!”
“He did what?” she asks as she comes closer.
“My father kidnapped some teenager to make me come home.”
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what he’s thinking or why he’s being such a dick.”
“So, are you leaving?”
“What choice do I have? I don’t want to be the bad guy here.”
“No, that’s all on Isaac.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “But as soon as their prospect is safe, I’m gone too.”
“You’ll come back and stay here?” Holly asks.
“Hopefully, I’ll have an interview or a job to go to, anything to get out of this town and away from freaking motorcycle gangs.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Barrett
It’s almost 2:00 a.m. before we all get back to Greer’s with Jordan. He’s got a few bruises that will heal, thankfully nothing worse. He assured us he wasn’t beaten so much as just thrown around the back of a van while restrained. Overall, he’s in good spirits.
Isaac still insisted we close our chapter down by the end of the month when he let Jordan go, but that’s a problem for another day.
As soon as I sit down at the bar, I pull out my phone to text Lyla. I type out at least five various possibilities to say, “Our prospect is safe thanks to you,” before sending that exact message.
Then, I stupidly stare down at the chat window while sipping one beer, then another, waiting for a response from her that may never come.
I shouldn’t have slept with Lyla or shot out Thane’s motorcycle tires. I knew both of those things could cause a shitload of problems, and they did. Jordan could’ve ended up paying for my mistakes.
Being with Lyla was great, even if it’s over now. Hopefully, I can move on, maybe even start dating for the first time in five years.
When my phone dings with a new message, the sensation of relief in my gut has me second-guessing if I’m really done with Lyla or not.
Her message is nothing but a thumbs-up emoji, but it still makes me smile.
She actually responded.
I miss her and want to see her again, despite the mess I caused.
