Cutter asked me to check in with him once things got started so I head through the clubhouse and toward the back office. I knock on his door, only opening it once I hear him call out. “Just wanted to let you know that the accountant is over in the garage and everything is going smoothly.”
He doesn’t even look up from the papers he is messing with. “Think she can handle the job?”
“She'll be fine,” I say with complete confidence.
He looks up. Pushing the papers to the side and giving me his complete attention. “How’s everything else? The brothers accepting you and your guys?”
I nod. We’re not exactly braiding each other’s hair, but there’s been nothing untoward. “For the most part. I know that trust isn’t something that’s blindly given. They need to see what we’re about and, until then, it makes sense that they’re standoffish.”
“Good, I think you all will be a good addition. We have a run coming up and Pres wants two of your guys on it. Let Colt and Storm know to be ready to head out tonight at eight. They’ll be gone for a few days.”
He looks back down, dismissing me without words.
I walk out of the office, a part of me pissed that I’m not on the ride. I could use a few days to get my head on straight. I knew coming back to this town that there would be a chance I’d see her, but I never thought I’d have to be around her every damn second.
I find Colt outside, messing around with his bike. His cut is tossed over a nearby tree stump and his white shirt is covered in bike grease. I lean down to pick up a rag and toss it at him. He looks up just in time and catches it against his chest. “You and Storm are heading out for a run tonight. Cutter said it could be a few days.”
“’Bout time. Was hoping for some action.” He nods at me. “You good?”
“Just trying to adjust.”
“I’m gonna call bullshit. What’s up? I haven’t seen you this off in years. The other guys have noticed it, too.”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to work some of the tension out. “You remember that girl I told you about when we first met?”
“The one who had your head in a goddamn mess? Sure, I remember her.”
“Well, turns out that I’m gonna be seeing her a lot more than I want to.” I jerk my head letting him know to follow me toward the garage.
From where we stand, just a few feet from the window, we have a clear view of Megan. Her head is bent over the desk, and she’s muttering something to herself. Her hair is now tied up, a pencil sticking out of it. Colt’s eyes go wide, then he turns to me and claps his hand on my shoulder.
“Brother, you’re screwed. But her being here don’t mean shit. Make sure to keep your head on. Don’t let her fuck this up for you.”
Colt is loud at the best of times, and I know he’s done it again when Megan looks up at the two of us, her eyes narrowing.
I wink at her. She wants to play this game, I’m all in. I lift my chin to Colt, walking backward, away from the garage.
Away from her.
“I’m gonna go get some shit done and avoid that damn garage as much as possible.”
He waves me off, pausing a moment too long for my liking before heading back to his bike, the gravel crunching under his heavy boots.
Inside the clubhouse is quiet. I don’t have anything to do, but being in here is better than being out there. If anything, just being as far away from the garage as possible makes it easier to breathe. The pull I feel toward her is stronger than ever and it's taking more self-control than I knew I had to stay away.
I want to go to her.
I want to ask her why she did that to us.
I want answers.
Chapter Eight
Megan
Connor asked me to dinner.
It goes against everything I’ve said so far but I agreed, thinking maybe a night out with a nice guy would help get my mind off Ryder. I can feel myself slipping. He makes me want to let him back in. I refuse to do that, though. I need to find a way to forget about him because I couldn't move on from what we were when he was miles away. Now that I see him every day it feels almost impossible.
The fact that he’s under my skin makes me resent him more.
I put the finishing touches to my makeup and walk out of my room. “Well?”
Chrissy looks up at me from the couch. “You look nice.”
“I feel like there is a but coming . . .” I arch an eyebrow, knowing full well that she has more to say.
She pauses the TV, turning in her seat, tucking her feet up underneath her and stretching an arm over the back of the couch.
It’s her “We Need to Talk” pose.
Shit.
“You’re not going to like this, but I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t say anything so shut up and listen.” I open my mouth but close it immediately when she shoots me a look that could freeze fire. “Going out with this guy is not going to accomplish what you want it to. I’m sorry, but it won’t. You’re playing with fire, and leading this Connor guy on is not like you.”
She’s right. It isn’t.
“Have you considered your other options? I mean, maybe Ryder came back into your life for a reason.” She looks down at the couch, her hands dropping to play with the zipper of one of the cushions. “Have you considered giving things another go with him?”
My mouth drops open and I let out a squeak.
“No.” She holds up a hand. “Let me finish. You never moved on from him. You say you’re okay with him being around but you’re not. You’re nowhere close.” She shrugs, like she hasn’t just dropped this huge bombshell. “I just think it might be worth a shot.”
I have no words.
None.
For the longest time, Chrissy has been the cheerleader for decapitating Ryder. She knows what happened, what him leaving did to me. The fact that she would do a complete 180 and suggest actually dating him.
Nope. No way.
Not happening.
“I can’t. You remember how screwed up I was the first time. How can I let him in again?” I sit down next to her. “I wish he didn’t come back. I wish that I didn’t still love him.”
Her arm comes around me just as a knock sounds on the door. I stand up, take a deep breath and try to wash away the emotions. I turn to her and give a curt nod. “See you later.”
I open the door. Connor is holding a bouquet of flowers, a huge smile plastered across his face. He looks like a child on Christmas morning.
God, I’m an asshole.
“Wow, those are beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
Such an asshole.
I take the flowers from him with a smile. “Let me put these in water really quick.”
I head into the kitchen and grab a vase out of the cabinet. I fill it with water and when I turn around Chrissy stands there, hip against the counter, a knowing smirk on her face. “Don’t even say it.”
She holds her hands up, backing slowly out of the room. “Me? Never.”
The ride down the elevator is quiet. I make sure there’s a respectable distance between us, even when two people from the floor below join us, effectively halving the space. It’s a fruitless exercise, though, because the moment we step out, he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me to his car.
His touch feels foreign. Foreign and wrong. It doesn't heat my skin or give me chills the way Ryder's does. It gives me goose bumps, yes, but in completely the wrong way.
We get to the car and the relief I feel when his hand leaves me to open the door is so welcome that I briefly consider calling it off.
But . . . Ryder.
His car is a sleek black car. It suits him. Very put together and polished, quite possibly the same reasons I’ve never really been interested in him. Ryder is so rough around the edges; messy, passionate, unapologetic.
The two of them couldn't be more different.
We pull out of my parking, Connor’s foot pressing heavy
on the accelerator and I’m pinned back against the seat. I glance at him but he just smiles.
Boys and their toys.
“This car is amazing,” I say, laughing, some of the tension evaporating.
He flips on the radio and we ride silently to the restaurant. The man on the radio sings about what it would take to heal his broken heart and a part of me sympathizes with him.
I don’t know if it's ever actually possible to heal a heart once it’s really broken. How can you fix all the hurt and betrayal?
I jolt out of my daydream when my car door opens and a valet stands there. I offer him a smile as I get out of the car and Connor takes my hand to lead me inside.
With every passing minute, I realize that this is a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. It isn’t fair to him, and it isn’t fair to me. I know what he wants from me, he’s made it clear for months now.
He’s just a distraction.
The hostess shows us to our table. Walking through the large open room, I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me, almost like they know that I’m a fraud. We sit down at a circular white table and I take a menu, using it as a welcome distraction. The place is expensive and my eyes search for the most inexpensive dish.
Connor has barely said anything, which seems a little odd. At work he’s forever finding some reason or other to come over to my desk, whether he wants to tell me about a live band he saw over the weekend, or ask if I’ve seen the latest paper on forensic accounting strategies. This silence just makes a bad situation worse. I fuss with my hair, desperate for something to do with my fidgety hands.
By the time the waiter comes by to take our drink orders, I know more about the couple next to us than necessary, choosing to listen in to their conversation rather than focus on the lack of it at this table. We both know what we want so we order our food and then he leaves us alone.
“So how has it been working on the new account?” Connor takes a sip of his water, his eyes on the tablecloth.
Terrible, I say in my head, mainly because the client broke my heart and I still love him. Now I’m here with you and I’ll probably go to hell for being a manipulative bitch.
I offer a weak smile. “It’s been good. I’m still kind of getting a feel for the different businesses.”
“I have to say I’m surprised you took it. I wouldn't have thought working with the bikers would have been something you were comfortable with. You’re always so quiet and reserved at work.”
I have to hold in my laugh. Quiet and reserved are the last words anyone would use to describe me. It makes me think that if I actually acted like myself around Connor, he might go running for the hills. “They aren’t that bad.”
“I've only seen the one who came into the office, but he looked like a real piece of trash. Just be careful over there.” His hand smooths his shirt as he smiles at me.
My blood begins to boil. Ryder might be a huge asshole, but he isn’t trash. When no one even noticed me, he cared. He taught me to be proud of myself, and not let anyone ever make me feel like I didn’t deserve what I wanted. He showed me what it felt like to be loved.
But then he left.
“Excuse me.”
I stand up, heading for the bathroom, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill as memories fly through my mind.
In the safety of the bathroom stall I sit, taking deep breaths in through my nose. My phone buzzes in my purse and I take it out. I freeze when I see it’s an unknown number because, really, it could only be one person.
Ryder.
How did he even get my number? Then I remember that my contact details are all on the signature of my company email address—the same address I’ve used to send through some files to him.
Damn him.
Swiping my phone, I almost drop it when I see the picture. It's a Ferris wheel lit up in the dark night sky.
Unknown sender: Look what I found.
The edges of my vision blur, and the walls start to close in on me.
I need to get out of here.
I need to go home.
Chapter Nine
2008
The First Date
I cannot concentrate on this stupid math. No matter how hard I try, it’s like all the numbers are growing wings and flying around. I hear heavy footsteps and look up to see Ryder.
“Close the books and come with me.”
He walks out of the room. I sit there, confused. I almost want to look around and see if anyone else is around because there’s no way he was talking to me. I close the book and get up, packing my books away neatly on my shelf, out of reach of the younger ones, then heading downstairs to find him in the living room. He has his jacket on.
And he’s holding mine.
“Took you long enough.” He tosses the jacket at me then opens the door and walks outside.
I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. The last time I had any real interaction with Ryder was the Twinkie incident and that was almost a month ago. The only good thing is that Alison and her friends have completely stayed away from me. I’m actually starting to like going to school again.
I meet him at the end of our walkway. “What is going on?”
“We’re going out.” He starts to walk, leaving me standing there.
I have to run to catch up to him and by the time I do, I’m out of breath. “You know, normally, you ask someone if they want to do something with you and then you make plans together.”
“I'm not a fan of normal.”
Obviously.
We walk for a few minutes in silence. When I start to hear music, I look up and see the annual carnival. I clutch at Ryder’s elbow, pulling him to a stop.
“I can’t go there.”
He furrows his brow. “Why not?”
“It’s Saturday night. Everyone will be there.”
“And?” He cocks his head to the side.
I groan. “And just because they’ve kept their distance from me doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to go onto their turf.”
“Their turf? What is this, West Side Story?” He grabs my hand and starts to pull me toward the carnival. I look down at my ripped jeans and faded T-shirt. Ryder doesn’t miss it. “You look fine, now stop.”
He hands the cashier money and gets us two wristbands. Wandering through the crowds, I feel like everyone is looking at me. My eyes don’t leave the ground, I’m grateful for Ryder leading the way because otherwise I might have to look up and see them all staring at me. My feet catch on the ground as Ryder pulls me across the field, almost knocking into him when he comes to an abrupt stop and turns to me.
“You got two options tonight. You can have a good time, or you can spend the whole time worrying what these idiots are thinking about you. If you choose the second you’re letting them win. People will only hold you to the standards that you set for yourself. You accept the shit treatment you get, you’ll always be treated like shit.”
I look at him for a minute. An evening alone in my room with my books versus an evening at the carnival with Ryder. I smile at him before nodding. “What are we going on first?”
He grabs my hand and pulls me toward one of the rides. I've never been to the carnival as long as I've lived in this town. The lights flashing and the music playing makes me feel like a little kid. The grass has been trampled by hundreds of excited kids and teenagers, leaving a muddy path that makes my feet slush in my cheap tennis shoes. The smell of cotton candy is so strong that it almost makes the air taste sweet.
The ride is fun and I can't help laugh as it whips us side to side, each turn pressing me harder against Ryder. A warmth spreads through me and my stomach twists, and I know it isn't just from the ride.
When we get off the ride, Ryder takes my hand and I relax as he leads me to another. We climb into one of the spots and it is completely enclosed. I haven't seen this ride in motion so I have no idea what it does. When it starts, the car moves, almost like a Ferris wheel.
“This isn’t bad.” I glance
at Ryder.
His blue eyes gleam with mischief as he smiles at me. His hand squeezes mine and it feels like a hundred butterflies are in my stomach.
I scream when the car does a complete circle. Ryder laughs next to me and I slap his chest. “You could have warned me!”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He takes my hand just as the car flips again, this time leaving us suspended upside down.
I spend the rest of the ride screaming my head off while Ryder laughs uncontrollably, and by the time it’s over I can barely stand upright. I stumble and he catches me, holding my hips and guiding me off the ride.
He nods toward the bright flashing lights and buzzers going off. “Wanna play a game?”
“As long as they don’t go upside down.”
He walks up to a water gun game that is almost full of people. I sit down and he looks over at me. “I’m gonna play and win you something.”
“Really? Are you trying to say that I couldn’t beat you?”
He chuckles. “I’m not trying to say that, I’m saying there’s no way in hell you can beat me.”
I look at the guy and hold up two fingers. “Two please.”
The guy holds his hand out and Ryder drops some money into his open palm. “What are we playing for?”
I rub my chin, wondering just what I can get him to agree to. There are plenty of things that spring to mind, but I’m too chicken to say any of them out loud. “Hmmm, bragging rights?”
Ryder crinkles his nose, as if he’s just smelled something really bad, and shakes his head. “How about, if I win, then you have to wear that hat the rest of the night.” He points over to a top hat with fireworks coming out of the top.
“Okay, well if I win you have to wear that.” I nod to the collection of feather boas, my eyes zeroing in on the bright pink one. It’s the most flamboyant of the lot and would look perfect on him.
Ryder claps his hands, rubbing his palms together. “You’re going down, princess.”
The guy goes over the rules and then the buzzer sounds. My knuckles throb as I grip the water gun tight, not daring to look away from my target.
Sever (Deathstalkers MC Book 6) Page 4
