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“Macy.”
“Let. Go.” My growled words had their intended effect, and Danny released his grip on the window. As soon as he stepped back, I threw the car into drive and stomped the gas, lurching forward and squealing out of the parking lot.
Overwhelmed and exhausted, I began to cry big, fat, ugly sobs. My hands shook from the adrenaline crash after my run-in with Paulie and the fight with Danny. All the stress I had been trying to manage overwhelmed me. The wild and shifting emotions swirled and burned inside my chest, and I choked on my tears. It was all too much.
Maybe the cards were right, after all.
Chapter Twelve
You stupid son of a bitch.
Feeling dumb and guilty, Danny watched Macy’s tail lights disappear. He wanted to jump in his truck and race after her, but he stopped himself. That would only escalate the situation he had handled so badly. She wanted space, not to be chased after by her dumbass boyfriend who did everything wrong and made her cry.
Realizing there was a small crowd of early morning customers gawking at him, he kept his head down and got back into his truck. He drove away as quickly as he could, wanting to get the hell out of there before the police showed up and made trouble. He kept playing the altercation out in his mind, running over it again and again. Each time, he felt even worse and more embarrassed by his actions.
His intentions to surprise her with breakfast and watching the sunrise together had collapsed under the weight of his own idiotic behavior. She was right to call him out on his bullshit. He would apologize as soon as she would agree to see him, but words weren’t enough. How many times had she heard her dad make promises that he broke?
The shame of realizing he was no better than Burt turned his stomach. If he wanted to keep Macy in his life, if he wanted to earn her respect and love, he had to be a better man. She was brilliant and tough and so beautiful. She could have any man she wanted, and soon, she would be surrounded by smart, determined and ambitious men.
I can’t compete with that.
It was a terrifying thought. He commanded respect here on the streets of Houston and within the underworld hierarchy, but out in the real world? He was never going to be a doctor or a lawyer. He didn’t have millions of dollars in the bank or a family business to inherit. What the hell could he offer Macy that she couldn’t attain on her own?
She didn’t need him to accomplish her goals. She didn’t need his help to be successful. She could do all of that on her own.
So why is she with me?
It was a question that needled his brain as he drove aimlessly around the city. He didn’t want to go home to his empty, dark house. He couldn’t shake the urge to run to his uncle and ask for advice. All his life, Artyom had been the one man he trusted when it came to tough issues. Even this early in the morning, Artyom would answer, probably offer him a cup of coffee and breakfast, too.
When he arrived at his uncle’s doorstep, he rang the doorbell and stepped back so the camera mounted above the door could see him fully. The last thing he wanted was to see the business end of a gun.
“Alarm is off. Use your key.” His uncle’s gruff, sleepy voice growled through the speaker. “And start a pot of coffee.”
Feeling guilty for waking him, Danny fished his keyring out of his pocket and found the right one. He unlocked the door and made sure to lock it right behind him once he was in the entryway. He carefully crossed the living room with the help of the soft LED light on the newly upgraded outlet covers. When he reached the kitchen, he switched on the light over the sink and washed his hands before making a pot of bitterly strong coffee Artyom preferred.
“Well—what did you do now?” Artyom asked, scratching at his bare stomach as he entered the kitchen barefoot and in shorts. The violent history of his life was etched into his skin, the harsh tattoo lines turning green and faded gray with age. There were tattoos on his uncle’s body that very few men would ever earn. It was a stark reminder of just how dangerous Artyom was.
Danny leaned back against the counter and told his uncle about the parking lot fracas. Artyom’s normally annoyed expression turned sour, and he shook his head. “Are you trying to sabotage this relationship?”
“What? No!”
“Then why are you fucking it up before it’s even really began?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“You made a choice to get out of the truck, to get aggressive and to yell at her.”
Danny squirmed with discomfort. “It wasn’t like that.”
“It sounds like it was.” Artyom reached for a coffee mug and then crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator for a carton of half-and-half. “I’m not arguing with you about it standing here in my shorts in my kitchen. You fucked up, Danny. You apologize. You do better.” He shrugged and splashed the creamy milk into his cup. “Or you lose her.”
“Well, that was helpful,” Danny grumbled.
“You’re welcome to go knock on someone else’s door at five in the morning.”
“Sorry,” Danny said, duly chastised.
“Do you want breakfast?” Artyom easily dismissed the friction between them.
