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She hums before she continues, “I think Agony has been through enough. You know, he’s one of the best guys here, and he doesn’t deserve the shit you put him through. Just because his name is Agony doesn’t mean he needs to feel that way, especially when it’s caused by the one person he wanted more than anything. You need to stay away, bitch.”
The call ends, and I’m left speechless.
I hurt him.
The way she called me out, I don’t know why, but that bothers me. If he had said it, I don’t think I would feel as badly as I do right now. But she’s not wrong. And I think I hate that even more.
Pressing my lips together, I think about blocking his number, but I don’t. It’s not his fault that I walked away without a word. He’s angry with me, and I can’t blame him. He didn’t do anything wrong… I did.
If I had explained everything to him, he probably wouldn’t have been pissed with me at all. He would understand because that’s the kind of person he is. But explaining everything means I have to be vulnerable… and I’m not quite willing to do that yet—with anyone.
I lean back in my chair, my head hitting the cushion, and stare at the ceiling for a moment. I have fucked it all up. I had created this awesome life for myself. I had friends, a great lover, and a business I built up and was successful.
Even if Logan was close, and he was on the outskirts of society, dealing with drugs and the like, I still had everything I thought I could never have, and yet, I walked away from it all without even asking for help to defend it.
I’m an asshole.
My excuse, not wanting anyone to be in danger, is just that—an excuse. Those men are strong enough to protect me and anyone else from anything that comes their way. I just ran scared, and now I’m going to pay the price for it.
Possibly the ultimate price.
ChapterTwo
AGONY
Rolling onto my back,I stare at the ceiling and will my pounding headache to go away. I have to work today. Since we’re legit now, for the most part, work isn’t something we can shrug off any longer. But I got seriously fucked up last night, and the last thing I want to do is work on a fucking car right now.
But work calls, and I’m not going to cause a problem for my club. I’ve already caused enough fucking problems, I’m sure. I force myself out of bed, my legs trembling as I make my way toward the door.
Looking back at the rumpled covers, I can’t help but imagine how much better they would look with Reese tangled up in them naked, her dark hair splayed out, her red lips against the pillow. All of her.
Fuck.
I need to get her out of my head. She isn’t coming back. It’s been weeks since she left, and she hasn’t even returned one of my text messages, let alone tried to call me. And her brother, he’s given me nothing.
The bitch is gone in the wind, and I have to wonder if she’s done this before because she’s damn good at it.
After a quick shower, I leave the clubhouse and climb on my bike before riding toward the warehouse, but my first stop is the coffee place downtown. I pull into the spot in front, throw my leg over my bike, and turn around to face the building across the street.
It’s closed.
It’s been closed, considering Kiplyn has been on maternity leave, and Reese was the only stylist in the small space. She walked away from everything—her home, her business… her family.
Clearing my throat, I continue to stare, wondering what the fuck is going to happen next. When I’m tired of making myself fucking miserable, I decide to go inside.
Spinning around, I make my way into the café and place my order. I’m not fancy. All I want is a black coffee. I would drink the coffee that’s made daily at the clubhouse, but Thunder makes fucking sludge. It’s not what I would classify as coffee.
“How’s tricks?” the barista asks me with a wide smile.
I chuckle as I take my money out of my pocket and place it on the counter, then shove a buck into the tip jar for her. They know me here. I made this place my café of choice when I started fucking Reese. It was convenient for both of us and now it’s just my coffee place.
“It’s comin’ along. How you doin’ with your college classes?”
She shrugs a shoulder before wrinkling her nose. “I hate it,” she admits on a sigh. “I’ve decided that I need to marry rich. It’s the only way,” she states as she thrusts the paper cup toward me.
Shaking my head, I reach out to take the paper cup. I curl my fingers around the warm cup, then take a step backward, tilting my head to the side. “Don’t do that, babe. You want to marry rich, yeah, that makes life easier, but have your own shit as backup. Always.”
She lets out a heavy sigh, then rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, okay,” she exhales. “Your girl left town?” she asks before I can turn around and walk out of the place.
