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“I’ll drop it, but first, I’m gonna say, you fucked up letting her go. She was good for you, and I think the same went for her.” With that said, Viking stalks passed me. I’m sure he’s heading in search of his ol’ lady and son. After all the shit the two of them have dealt with, they deserve to be happy.
Shaking my head, I step into the main room of the clubhouse only to stop when my eyes land on a woman talking to Ice and Peyton.
Shyann.
I take in the outfit she’s wearing, and it goes straight to my dick. A sexy off-white skirt that has little black swirls designed into it matched with a solid-black sleeveless top, paired with a pair of sandals. She’s got her hair up in a bun like I’ve never seen her wear before and in her ears is a set of dangling crescent moon earrings. Fuckin’ hell, she’s beautiful even if she looks pale and as if she’s lost weight.
Her eyes come to mine when she sees me, and I can see the anger and fury in them. She says something to Peyton before she starts in my direction. Like an idiot, I stand there simply watching her. Taking in all that I’ve missed in the past two months.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to get out without sounding stupid.
“What I’m doing here is you’re an asshole,” she snaps, stopping directly in front of me.
Did she just . . . hold up . . . did she just cuss?
I furrow my brows. “You want to say that again.”
“Yeah, you’re an asshole. A big fat asshole who needs his ass kicked,” she yells and reaches out to snatch one of my wrists up. Turns it until my palm is open. She reaches behind her with her other hand only to pull something out and slam it into mine. Shyann then points a finger into my chest. “I’ve given you plenty of time to get your head straight. I wanted to be there for you. I loved you. I still love you, but you made the decision. Now you can deal with the consequences of it all. Because I’m done waiting. You don’t want me in your life, fine. But you should know what you’ve given up.”
Releasing my wrist, Shyann spins on her heel and turns her back to me, and stalks to the doors. My eyes stay glued to her the entire way. Her words screaming in my head.
“I wanted to be there for you. I loved you. I still love you, but you made the decision. Now you can deal with the consequences of it all. Because I’m done waiting.”
My heart lurches, and it’s as if thousands of knives are stabbing me all at once. I glance down at what she put in my hand, and I try to swallow past the lump forming in my throat.
“You don’t want me in your life, fine. But you should know what you’ve given up.”
It takes me all of a second to realize what she means and just how much I fucked up. Shyann’s the only woman who means a damn to me, and I love her more than anything in this world. I only wanted to protect her from ever being hurt, but it seems us not being together is something I don’t think I can do. She wanted me to come back to her, and I didn’t. She came to me. And in giving me hell, she also gave me a gift.
One that I’ll make sure I’m there every step of the way for.
Shyann being pregnant with my kid changes everything, and not just because I’ve knocked her up, but because she’s mine and always has been.
Tossing the stick to the floor, I take off running after her hoping to catch her in the parking lot, but regardless, I’ll follow her wherever she goes. I’ll ensure she knows what she means to me and how sorry I am for fucking up. For not letting her be there like she wanted.
CHAPTERTWENTY
SHYANN
I swipe at the tears running down my cheeks. Seeing War and walking away from him again was harder than I thought it would be. He’s the other half of my soul, and two months ago, he shattered it.
It took me the entirety of that time to pick myself up just the slightest, and now I’ve got someone who depends on me.
My baby.
War’s baby.
The baby, the two of us, created together out of love, yet he threw what the two of us had away when he told me he didn’t want me anymore.
Sucking in a heartbreaking cry, I drive home without looking back. I don’t need to. I said my piece to War. I’m done waiting. I hoped . . . God, did I hope . . . that he would realize what he did and come back.
I guess I was a fool for thinking something so foolish. No one ever comes back. Not to me, that is. No one can stick around. Sure, my grandma and I are close. She visited just the other week to make sure I was okay. I faked being happy so she wouldn’t see the agony I feel with every breath without War.
Talk about pitiful. I can’t get over a man who doesn’t want me.
I pull into the driveway of my house, more than ready to go inside, get a nice steamy mug of herbal tea, and curl up with a good book. Better yet, curl up and cry. Finally, allow the rest of the heartache and pain to flow free.
Soon as I park the car in the garage, I climb out from behind the wheel and head for the house. The only thing on my mind is getting inside and locking myself away. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll go to my grandma’s in Florida and hide away from the world.
