Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Callan gripped the front of my shirt and shook me. Hard. “I know where Maia is right now,” he hissed under his breath. “I’ve been right there in her shoes. And trust me … she’ll come around. But she can’t come around if you are in prison for beating the shit out of a sad wee prick who doesn’t deserve a single second of your time.”
“He’s right, man,” John urged softly. “Let’s go. Walk away.”
Callan’s wisdom started to penetrate, and the fog of fury that had driven me here dissipated as his words gave me a bit of hope. While my dad had walked out of my life when I was a bairn, I’d had my granddad to fill that void. Callan had his stepdad and mum, but when they were killed in an accident, he was left with nothing but a waste-of-space dad. His dad had screwed over Braden Carmichael when they were younger and that history had messed with Callan. He’d almost lost Beth because of his own bullshit about it … but she’d pulled him back.
Which meant I could still fix things with Maia.
Shit.
I sagged as the worst of the anger drained away and Callan sighed heavily in relief as he released his hold on me.
It was then I realized it had grown quiet in this part of the room as people waited to see what would happen next. I eyed the receptionist who had stepped to the side, nervously, afraid of me.
Fuck.
That cooled my fury fever too.
Bennet still stood, but he swallowed hard as he forced himself to hold my gaze.
“You’re not worth it,” I told him quietly. “You’re bottom-feeding scum. And I feel sorry for you that your life’s work is basically fucking gossiping and not giving one shit what damage your stories do to people’s lives. I wish you a lifetime of misery and loneliness, you pathetic. Little. Turd.”
Bennet looked away, the muscle in his jaw clenching, and I scoffed, turning and nodding toward the exit. “Let’s go, boys.”
John and Callan couldn’t hide their relief as they fell into step and accompanied me out of the building. The security guard eyed us warily as he moved aside to let us pass.
We didn’t talk until we were outside and I saw Callan’s Defender parked behind my car. They must have flown down that motorway to keep up with me.
“I think I just shit myself.” John tried to ease the tension with a joke. “Seriously, Keen nearly killed us chasing you down that motorway. I … Man, I’ve never seen you lose it like that.”
I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I dinnae ken what came over me.”
“Maia did.” Callan shrugged. “Mate, I get it. I’d want to kill anyone who tried to hurt Beth. But My doesn’t need you doing something stupid. She just needs to know you’re there.”
“I’ve called her a stalker level number eh’ times since last night.” I leaned back against my car, squeezing the bridge of my nose. My accent thickened as it always did when I was tired or emotional. “I dinnae ken how tae get through tae her right noo.”
“Aye, you do.” Callan’s expression hardened.
I read that look in his eyes and nodded, determination thrumming through me. “I need tae get tae the club.”
“I’ve got your back.”
“Me too.” John patted my shoulder. “Civilian life isn’t so bad, you know.”
Aye, well, I was about to find that out for myself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MAIA
My phone was currently turned off and hidden in a shoebox in my dressing room. Honestly, I was just too in shock, too busy spiraling, to think about it. Which was why my parents had shown up at my door last night. All I could do was cry. I couldn’t speak. Until Dad asked where Baird was and I somehow managed to choke out that I’d broken it off with him. They had questions, but the pain in my chest was so bad I thought I was going to be sick.
They hadn’t wanted to leave me, but they had to get home for Lockie, and truthfully, I needed space. Dad was so furious at Mum that his anger hurt me as much as it soothed me.
When they left, I cried so hard I did throw up, and it was at that point I knew I needed to find a way to calm down. I tried some mindfulness techniques Beth had taught me, but every time my head grew quiet, a sentence from the article would pop up, breaking my heart all over again. Or I’d hear Baird’s gaffer loudly telling him he needed to dump me or he’d lose his place at the club.
Terror had filled me in that moment.
Of ruining Baird the way my mum seemed to ruin everyone in her orbit.
I wouldn’t be the reason he lost the thing that made him feel safe. The club was his home.