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“I was talking about your someone,” she corrects me with a clever smirk that makes me feel even guiltier.
“I thought I did?” My words are as weak as my self control. How am I ever gonna make this up to Julian? I’m a horrible person.
“Maybe you should take some time to think, when you’re back home, being somewhere familiar might make things seem clearer,” Maddy suggests. “This club isn’t going anywhere, neither is Brax.”
“What are you two chatting about?” Jessie steps outside, wearing just his boxers and scratching the back of his head lazily, even with his shoulder length hair messy from sleep, he still looks handsome.
“Mornin’, darlin’.” He kisses Maddy on her forehead then tips his chin at me.
“Brax okay?” he asks,
“Probably sleeping it off.” I smile, taking a sip of my coffee.
“He was in bad shape last night. I just about managed to drag him out before he killed Squealer.”
“What?” I ask, stunned. Maddy looks curious too.
“Yeah, Squealer was being himself, you know what he gets like, Brax didn’t like whatever he said so went at him hard, a few bruises and a broken chair, nothing serious.” Jessie picks up a packet of cigarettes from the table and lights one up. “What time you headin’ home? If you need a ride—”
“I’m taking her.” We all turn our heads when Brax steps out from behind me, wearing just his jeans. Jessie tosses him a cigarette and he pulls a lighter from his back pocket to light it.
“You sure, I don’t want to be a bother?” The words that come out of my mouth don’t match the ones in my head. Why do good choices have to come with such a sacrifice?
“I’m taking you home, Gracie,” he says, putting an end to the conversation.
“We better get some breakfast.” Maddy quickly claps her hands and gives Jessie a look that has him following her back inside. Brax sits down next to me, leaning his elbows on his knees, staring out onto the lake as he blows the smoke out his mouth. I’d never found the whole bad boy thing attractive until him. It’s always been crisp white shirts and clean-shaven men that got my attention, but with Brax, everything is sexy, even the cuts and bruises I notice on his knuckles now.
“Heard you got in to fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight, Squealer said some shit, and I lost mine.”
“What did he say?”
“It don’t matter now,” he snaps, turning his head to me and snarling, “Nothing matters anymore. Be ready for eleven.” He stands up and storms back inside.
He’s nowhere to be seen when I eventually haul my ass up and go to get dressed, and I hope this isn’t how things are gonna end.
I can feel myself starting to miss him… and I haven’t even left yet.
I’m leaning against the truck, squaring things out with Squealer, when Gracie comes out of the cabin carrying a bag with the small amount of stuff she accumulated while being here. She’s said her goodbyes to the girls and thanked Prez for his hospitality, so there’s just one thing left to do.
Yeah, I shouldn’t have thrown one at Squealer, but he shouldn’t have said what he said. I can’t have made it any clearer that she was off limits, I may never have said it out loud but everyone else around here’s gotten the fucking hint.
When he notices her come out, he slaps my shoulder, letting me know things are good, before he gives us some space. The fucker still checks out her ass when she passes him though.
“I’m ready,” she offers up an awkward smile as I open the door to the truck. Duke is laid out on the porch, and the look on his face makes me wonder if he understands that she’s leaving. “What will you do with him?” Gracie looks at him fondly as she gets inside.
“He’ll stay with me,” I tell her, shutting the door and rounding the hood. I sit in the driver’s seat, and look at her for a while, silently willing for her to say something. But all I get is that same sweet smile, one that fades, just like my fucking hope.
So I start up the engine and pull off before I give any more of myself away.
The journey to her place takes a little less than an hour and when I pull up outside her huge house, Gracie Scott suddenly looks different. She belongs in these surroundings, even wearing the pair of ripped jeans she got from Maddy and one of my T-shirts knotted around her midriff.
This girl was never mine, only borrowed, and now it’s time for me to give her up. I wish I didn’t know how it had felt to have her for the little time I did.
Rage burns inside of me when I think about her boyfriend touching her where I have. The jealousy of knowing that he’s gonna wake up every morning, with her soft breaths against his chest, and her hair tickling under his nose.
“I guess this is it.” Gracie interrupts my thoughts, and I watch the tear slowly streak over her cheek. I want to catch that tear and keep it for fucking ever. Evidence that, once, a girl like her felt something for a wretch like me.
