Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“We need to talk.”
He doesn't look up. “Nothing good ever starts that way.”
I know it’s going to crush him, but I have to be real. This isn’t going to end well and filling Olive with false hope is cruel in the long run.
“I’ve got to take her home, Hella.” I force the words out before I lose my nerve. “Back to Westbeach. Back to my life.”
The wrench in his hand stills. “The fuck you are.”
“Hella—”
“No.” He stands, tossing the wrench aside. “You're not gonna pack up and leave after everything—”
“After everything what?” I step forward, anger flaring to cover the hurt as I close the door behind us. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, I do, but this is not going anywhere good, you know that! You and I are—”
“This isn’t about us.” His voice drops dangerously low. “This is about that kid upstairs who's finally feeling safe. Who's got a routine. Who's got people who care about her.”
“I care about her!” I snap, annoyance feeling like a rubber band.
“Then why are you running?”
The accusation hits too close to home. “I'm not running. I'm giving her a normal life. School, friends, a real home. This?” I wave my hands around the place, guilt from my words already setting. “Is not a home for her in the long run, not when you and I are so unstable, and not with fucking club bitches who are always hanging around you!” Okay the last part wasn’t fair, but I’m on a roll and the brakes are cut.
A snarl almost leaves him, and there’s real anger in his eyes now. Hatred. “Don't you dare act like this place isn't safe. Like I haven't kept both of you protected since the moment you got here.” He takes a step. “Like you didn’t come fucking running right here, to me, when you needed reassurance. You don’t get to throw that shit out the equation just because I ain’t between your legs every night.”
I wince, head jerking back. “Fuck you. This isn’t about that!”
“Yeah?” His brows lift, but there’s no playful tone. No smirk. Just rage. “Lift your skirt and prove it.”
I step back, needing every bit of distance. “This!” I gesture between us. “This is what I mean, Hella. I can’t have the uncertainty, and you know what? I don’t want it anymore because now it feels forced.” Silence wrestles between us, the war feeling tiresome.
I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the cold seep in despite the warm night. “I'm saying we can't stay forever. I have a business. A life. A house that's not filled with men who kill people and bury them in the desert.”
“Right. Because Westbeach is so much safer.” His laugh is bitter. “Like it’s so much safer you ran back to them when shit got hard.”
The blow lands, and I flinch. “That was different.”
“How?”
“Because I couldn’t go to them!” The words explode out of me. “All my life, I thought she was safe, living a normal life, and I was willing to die to keep it that way. But now she's here, she's mine, and I need to figure out how to be her mother without—” My voice breaks. “Without you.”
Silence falls heavy between us.
“Without me.” He repeats it slowly, like he's tasting the words. “That's what this is about.”
“Hella—”
“Say what you mean, Melissa.” He closes the distance between us, backing me against the wall. “You're scared. Not of the club, not of your old life. Of this.” He gestures between us. “Of whatever the fuck we've got going on.”
“We don't have anything going on.” It’s a weak lie and we both know it. “We fuck sometimes. Argue always. That's it.”
“Is it?” His hands land on either side of me, caging me in. “Because it feels like a hell of a lot more than that. Feels like I've been sleeping in a chair for a month to make sure you both feel safe. Feels like I signed my name on a birth certificate, claiming a kid that biologically ain't mine because I wanted to give her something real. Feels like—”
“Stop.” I press my hands against his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my palms. “Stop.”
“Make me.”
God, I want to kiss him. Want to give in to this thing between us and damn the consequences. But I can't. Not when Olive's finally starting to heal. Not when I'm barely holding myself together.
“I need space.” My voice cracks. “I need to figure out how to be a mother without... without falling apart.”
“So you're gonna leave.” It's not a question.
“I'm asking you to let me go.” I meet his eyes, letting him see how much this is costing me. “For now.”
His jaw works, muscles tightening as he fights whatever he's feeling. “And if I say no?”
“Then I'll fight you.” I straighten my spine, channeling every ounce of strength I have left. “I'll take her and go, and you'll either let me or you'll prove you're exactly like every other man who's tried to control me.”