AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But for the first time in my life, I’m not alone as I unfurl my wings.
Forty-Eight
Lake
“You’re a bitch.”
That hits Nova hard, even though we’re walking away from her sister and that asshole of an ex.
I see it.
The entire bar can see it.
And…I’ve had enough.
It’s vitriol. Bullshit. I knew what bitches—I have plenty of them as exes—act like.
And a big ass one is standing in front of me as I release Nova, spin back around to face her sister.
I lift my brows. “Really?” I say, shifting over to block her when she tries to move past me. “If there’s even a small part of you who wants your sister in your life someday, don’t spew out whatever bullshit is in your mind right now. Just turn around, go off and live your life, and maybe someday you’ll get a clue, get your shit together, and grovel to your sister enough that things will be different.”
Her eyes narrow. “Look, asshole—”
“Yup, I’m an asshole. One who’s not going to cut a check. Not today or tomorrow orever.One who’s not going to stand by and allow Nova to give you anything else.”
She scowls.
“So, yeah, I’m an asshole, and I’m the asshole who’s going to have your sister’s back.” I spin away, cutting off whatever retort she might have made, taking Nova with me.
“But—” Nova whispers, eyes shimmering with hurt when she looks up at me.
I start walking. “Don’t give her another moment of your time.”
“Why is she like that?”
“I don’t know, baby.” I shake my head, tuck her closer, and draw her further away, thankful when Riggs and Leo stand up and step between us, stopping the idiotic duo from following as I draw Nova away from the bar and out the back door.
She immediately shivers when we step onto the snow-covered patio.
Dumb. But it’s not like there’s a lot of places in a bar where we can go to have a moment of quiet.
She’s shaking, and though I know it’s not just from the temperature, I shrug off my hoodie, tug it over her head, and draw her against me. The material and my body aren’t enough to keep her warm for long.
But it will be long enough.
I exhale, know this is another of those put up or shut up times. “You know about my mother.”
Her body goes very still.
“You know about the ex who threw knives at me.”
A breath—hers, mine, I’m not really sure which of us it belongs to because my pulse has started pounding hard in my ears, and the memories—shouting, piercing screams, palms smacking against my cheek, nails digging into my skin—are rightthere.
Fresh.
Painful.
I fucking hate it.
