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“Nothing.” I keep my back turned, not wanting to look at him. “I’m good, Prez.”
“No, you’re not,” he says, shaking me slightly. “If you can’t get your shit under control, you’re fucking out.”
That makes me go deathly still.
Slowly, I turn to face him. Whatever he sees on my face makes him drop his hand and straighten to his full height, his chin tipping back in challenge.
“You’re kicking me out of the club?” I ask quietly, my voice low and hard.
“No,” he says. “But I’m taking you out of this shit. If it’s getting to you, then we’ll find something else for you to do. Something that’s not so involved.” I clench my jaw.
“Are you saying I’m incapable?” I ask, and he lets out a hard breath.
“No, and you know I’m not,” he says. “I’m saying if you’re about to go off the deep end, I need to know that now. I can’t worry about you while I’m trying to fix this shit. So, are you good, Kiwi? Or do I need to find something else for you to do?”
I stare at him, my body vibrating.
“I’m good, Prez,” I say darkly. “I’m fucking great.”
“That didn’t look like you were great,” he says, tipping his head toward the door. “That looked like you’re riding the edge.”
“I’m fine,” I say again. He shakes his head as he lets out a breath.
“One more time,” he says, holding his finger up. “If you fuck around one more time, you’re on Prospect duty. You understand?”
Babysitting duty, he means.
“I understand,” I say.
“Don’t make me do it, Kiwi,” he says tiredly. “Please just take a fucking breath and think before you do shit. I need to know I can trust you to not fucking lose it right now. I need you to hold it together. Just until this shit with Montgomery is over. Can you please,pleasefucking do that for me? I’m in over my fucking head here, man.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him say that. It’s the first time he’s ever been anything other than the best. My Prez. It’s the first time he’s ever been human in my eyes.
“I can do that, Bash,” I say. “I’ve got your back. You know I’ll take a bullet for you and kill the fucker from the other side. I’ve got you and I’ve got the club.” His jaw tenses as he nods.
“I’m relying on you right now,” he says. “With everyone gone, it’s just you, me, and Reid. I need you here. I need you all here.” He taps the side of his head. “Stay with me, man. Just a bit longer.”
“I’m here,” I say firmly as I square my shoulders. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere, Prez.”
Kennedy
It’s been a whirlwind of a day and I haven’t had a chance to call Ezra. I want to tell him I fucked up and that I’m ready forus. To try, at least. See where this can go.
He’s absolutely insane and I don’t know why I even like him, but I do and I’m done trying to fight it. Ian likes him, I like him, even Rasputin likes him—but to be fair, that dog likes everyone. It’s time to put my fear aside and try, for his sake and mine. And for Ian’s, too.
Ian has never had a man in his life. It’s always just been me. He was too young to remember my dad, and even if he wasn’t, we didn’t see him or my stepmother often enough for them to have a relationship. He only knows the struggles and strength of a single mother. He doesn’t know how people are supposed to love each other in a relationship, and if I can show him that with Ezra, I will.
I finish wiping down the bar and grab my purse. Milo headed home half an hour ago since I thought I only had a few things left to do, but I’d forgotten about cleaning the bathrooms and ended up staying later than I’d wanted. Again.
It’s nearly four. Since Milo left, I have no way to get home except to walk. Which is fine. I live only a few blocks from The Crossroads. I guess I could call Ezra, but I don’t want to. Not yet. I want to talk to him when my back isn’t aching, and I’m not cranky. I want to be well rested and preferably caffeinated before talking to him about everything.
Especially because I have a feeling like he’s going to gloat and tease me about liking him like we’re middle schoolers. But for him, I’ll endure it.I guess.
Stepping out into the dark balmy night, I quickly lock the door. I shouldn’t have let Milo leave. The parking lot is too dark, and it always makes me uneasy to walk through it alone at night. I’ve asked Spencer to put a few security lights in the back for years, but he’s never gotten around to it.
Something crunches behind me—boots on gravel. Multiple boots on gravel. My spine stiffens, but I try to force myself to stay calm. I’m probably just paranoid. The guys come and go from the bar at all hours, it could be one of The Berserkers.
But something in my gut is screaming at me to run back inside.
