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I’m not sure he’s someone I’ll ever get over. He’s really wrecked me. All of me. My body, my mind, and my soul. The worst part of it all is that I’m the one who did it to him. It’s not even his fault. He never did anything wrong.
It’s me who is broken.
Instead of explaining all of that to Justin, I let out a heavy exhale and tug my car door open. Sinking down into the seat, I start the engine and shift the car into reverse. He revs his engine, then moves his bike backward to allow me to back up.
Without watching him, I back up, turn my wheel and move forward. I cannot worry about this man. I cannot focus on him. I have to focus on myself and saving my own life—on surviving. On Douglas. On what he would do to me if he got his hands on me again. If he found out about the baby.
I have to stay one step ahead of him.
Pulling up to my parking spot at the back of the bar, I shift the car into park and throw the door open. Justin rolls in behind me just a few moments later. My stomach rolls, and I realize I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch yesterday.
Placing my hand on my belly, I curse myself for already being a complete shit mother. “You good?” Justin calls out.
I wish he weren’t such a freaking nice guy. It would be a lot easier to be a bitch to him and ignore him if he were just some cocky asshole. But no, he’s cocky, but he’s also nice. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times before I look at him.
“I forgot to eat,” I confess.
What I don’t do is tell him that I’m also pregnant. I don’t know when I’m going to tell them… maybe I won’t ever have to. Maybe I’ll be out of here before they even realize it. But then the idea of leaving makes me feel almost sick to my stomach.
I want to stay here in Arizona, and if Douglas finds me, there will be no choice but to run. If he realizes I’m in Arizona, there will be no place safe in the desert for me. I’ll have to leave for good.
The whole reason I’m here is in an effort to trick him and buy a bit more time. To try and come up with a plan for me and this baby. Walking into the bar behind Justin, I smile as Charley lifts his hand in a small wave.
Justin speaks before I can say a word.
“The cook here? Reese hasn’t eaten anything.”
My eyes widen, my gaze flicks from Justin to Charley, and my lips part. I don’t know what to say, but I did not expect Justin to speak for me. Charley’s lips twitch into a small smile. It’s knowing, and I want to tell him he doesn’tknowanything. Nothing happened.
“Yeah, go ahead and order something, babe. On the house.”
My lips part. I open and close them a few times, unsure of what to say, so instead of saying anything at all, really, I whisper, “Thank you.”
“You work here, you eat. That’s that,” Charley mutters.
Moving toward the back of the bar, I slip into the kitchen and find the cook prepping for the night. For a fancy downtown bar, the food is simple, but it’s really good. People aren’t really coming here for the food. It’s more because they feel cool coming to a totally safe biker bar.
It’s almost comical.
But at the same time, it feels like home.
“You want somethin’?” the cook asks.
He’s wearing a cut that matches both Charley and Justin’s. I don’t pay attention to the club name. It doesn’t matter much to me, but a sense of comfort and safety washes over me again. This place, these men, I know I am safe here.
“Charley said I could order something?” I ask.
His lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe. What’s it gonna be?”
I think about being healthy, ordering one of the wedge salads he makes, which is the only salad on the menu, but I decide against it because what I really want is a big fat burger.
“A cheeseburger with bacon and fries?” I say, asking it because I’m not sure if it’s too much.
“Sweet potato fries or regular?” he asks.
My eyes widen, my mouth watering. “Sweet potato, please,” I squeak.
He snorts. “Yeah, babe. You got it.”
