“You’re not allowed to hate him.” I nudged her with my toe.
She sighed and looked toward the picture window that looked over the streets of Rockford. “I never should’ve agreed to letting you go on that trip. This wouldn’t have happened if I had.”
“It’s fine. Seriously. I’m okay now.”
“It’s better this way for you, ya know.” She looked at me, smiling sadly. “He would have been a super-shitty boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” Sadly, though, I’d never get the chance to truly find out now.
“I saw what it was like for my mother to be with his dad. The man would leave her to go deal with club business in the middle of the night, or during important life events. Then she’d sit in her room and just cry.” She looked down at her hands and shook her head. “Mom always felt so trapped. Like, he was holding something over her to keep her with him. She was miserable with that man, but she refused to leave, saying she had to stay because she didn’t want to abandon Niyol.” She made a funny face, scoffing. “I never understood her loyalty to the guy and that stupid club, but I’m glad he’s finally out of our hair for good.”
“It doesn’t matter either way,” I said, lying through my teeth. “What Niyol and I had was a fling. Temporary. I’m over him and Landon both. Which is exactly why I want to go out tonight. A couple of Caleb’s hockey friends will be there.”
“Oh yeah? A certain blue-eyed hottie who’s been eyeing you for months?” Her eyes lit up, a bit of my Emily returning to the here and now.
I’d missed her—this. Us. Our friendship, most of all.
I smiled and glanced at the ground, hoping to look coy instead of broken. It was hard to declare interest in one man when I was pretty sure I’d never be over another. When would I ever learn?
“Yeah. Kyle’s sweet. Maybe it’s time I gave him a chance.” Even though just earlier I’d declared yet another fruitless man-ban.
“Okay. Let’s do this then.” She scooted closer and patted my knee. “Operation Hottie Hockey is officially a-go.”
* * *
The club was packed. Body after body lined the walls and dance floor. I stood at the bar, nursing my rum and Coke, watching the crowd with disinterest, while Caleb stood to one side of me, talking about his stats at a game earlier in the year. So, either my clubbing days were over, or this funk I was in couldn’t be healed by grinding dancers, shots of tequila, or hot hockey studs. God, life sucked.
Emily stood next to me on the other side, shoulders sagging. “This sucks.”
I sipped on my drink and shrugged, leaning close to her ear. “We’re ancient.”
“We’re supposed to be in our prime,” she argued.
I looked at her, then her at me, before we both started laughing. The two of us were old souls, twenty-four going on forty. If we could’ve lived in a coffee shop drinking dark blends and creamers for the rest of our lives, we probably would have.
Still, this was my idea. And I needed the distraction.
So, we danced a little. I flirted with Kyle on occasion, never once feeling that spark. The majority of the time, Emily was texting Sam, all smiles and swoons and making me completely jealous. I wanted that, not this. Not the bar scene, the dance scene, nothing that felt like so much effort.
“Wanna dance?” Kyle asked after an hour and a half. He settled his hand between my shoulder blades, but, again, nothing happened. Not a spark. Not a shiver. Not a single. Damn. Thing.
I sighed, looking away. Did I want to dance when it meant I might inevitably be leading him on? No. If anything, I wanted to go home and curl up on my couch, eat Ben & Jerry’s and cry over romantic tragedies. But that was no way to get over a heartbreak either. Not in the least. Which was why I did what I did.
“Sure.” I smiled, leading Kyle back to the bar first. “But let’s do a couple more shots. I need some liquid courage.” He smiled, doing as I asked. And then when it was time to dance, we did. His body against mine, his hands staying below the breasts, and above the ass. Respectful. A gentleman. Perfect.
No matter how much alcohol I pushed down my throat, though, nothing could get me to feel anything but sadness and longing and a deep sense of regret that this was what my life had come to. Still, those wretched thoughts didn’t stop me from inviting Kyle home with me.
Kyle held my hand in the cab, talked to me about hockey and his schedule, life on the road, and the NHL. We both loved kids. We both wanted to stay in the suburbs instead of moving to downtown Chicago. We enjoyed reading, though he preferred thrillers and I loved romances. On paper, Kyle and I were perfect for one another.
But paper disintegrated eventually, just like he and I would too.
“Thanks for inviting me back to your place.” His hand stayed perfectly centered along my back; even with all the alcohol we’d indulged in he never stepped over the line. God, what I wouldn’t give to just feel something for him. Anything.
“You’re welcome.”
The buzz in my head at least kept me numb to my surroundings as I walked down my hall to my apartment door. I unlocked it but didn’t turn the knob. The problem with me drinking into the late hours of the night meant I wouldn’t sleep. At least not soundly. Sure, I’d fall asleep right away, but an hour or two later I’d likely wake up with a headache and a churning stomach.
Maybe I just wouldn’t sleep at all. I could stay awake and eat some ice cream… Ice cream cured all, didn’t it?
Yes. Absolutely. My now sole purpose in life was drowning my sorrows with a tub of Vanilla Bean and bingeing on rom coms until I passed out cold.
There again, doing so with a man I was in no way interested in, standing just outside my door, wasn’t possible.
Until it was.
“Listen, Summer…” Kyle touched my elbow, a sad smile on his lips when I spun around to face him. “I don’t think I’m going to be coming in after all.” He pulled his hand away and tucked both into his jean pockets. “You’re a sweet woman. And I like you a lot, in fact. But… you’re not with me.”
I flinched, blinking up at him outside my door. “I’m sorry?”
“Sorry. Let me rephrase.” He cleared his throat. “Whoever he is, the man who has your heart? He’s a lucky guy.”
My eyes welled with instant tears, and I stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. “And you’re going to make some woman very happy someday.”
He chuckled against me, his hand sliding along the back of my neck. “Talk soon?”
“Yeah. Soon.” Though we both knew that wouldn’t be the case.
* * *
I slept fitfully that night, until the sun crept through the lone window in my quiet living room. Through the glass pane, I blinked my sleepy eyes, and watched the trees from the courtyard out back flit and flutter in the wind. I thought to myself: This could be my life. Alone most nights, waking with wretched hangovers. All I needed now was a cat.
Head throbbing, I leaned over to grab my cell. No new calls. No texts, just the lonely time of nine-twenty a.m. flashing back at me. I sighed and settled the phone on my chest, ready to sleep the day away. Until a knock sounded at my door.
Groaning, I slowly sat up, kicking my blanket onto the floor. Another knock sounded just seconds later, louder. Angrier.
“Coming, damn it.”
I looked out the peephole, lip curled, finding the last person I ever expected.
Thirty-Six
Niyol
I shouldn’t have been there. It was early, and she was probably still sleeping. But I couldn’t be without her any longer than I already had.
A few brothers who were still undecided when it came to my coming back had put up a fight about my return at church. Said I needed to pay for my abandonment. In the end, the rest were good with my return, having picked their sides long before Pops got put away. But the new prospects replacing the rogues who’d left were not as trusting.
In the end, one church vote later, I was back in. Permanently.
It just
wasn’t with open arms.
Flick had been right when he said I’d be making up for my running away. What I never counted on, though, was sacrificing my life with Summer, completely, for three weeks. Now, though, I was finally in a place where I felt that I could have both. If she’d have me, that was.
I had to earn back my brothers’ trust. Doing so meant cutting off ties with the outside world, no warning. Ties that included Lisa, Emily, and worst of all, Summer. It was brutal. It was fucked up. It was complete and utter hell. But in the end, it was worth it because when they gave me back my cut, along with a new bike, I was proud to wear it and ride it for the first time in my life. I was home, with my family. Now I just needed Summer at my side to complete it.
For the past three weeks, my life had been a living shithole. I wasn’t punished physically, thank fuck, but mentally I was tested. Locked away from all the meetings in church, doing the grunt work as a prospect, living in the shittiest dorm, and not allowed to do anything club related. I was treated like the fucker I was. Worse than a prospect, really.
Archer and Slade had been right though. Things were already changing for the better now that Flick was Pres. Drug running with shit suppliers had been halted for the most part. Dealers had changed, kept on lockdown most of all. The club had gotten pickier as to who they dealt with in the end. Anyone who wanted otherwise was told to leave. Flick even took in my ideas about what I’d hoped to see done with the club, claiming he wanted that too, but would need my help making it happen. First though, we needed to make it right with the other clubs that were still with Pops.
Now Flick, along with Archer as temporary VP and Slade, the new, Road Captain, were already trying to figure out how to go about doing so. Money was a big thing, financially buying out others’ loyalties. It sucked that it had to be that way, and yeah, it was my fault. But in the end, it’d be worth it—though their final plans on getting the cash to make it happen wasn’t something I was necessarily okay with.
They were tapping into Pops’ drug money, the hundreds of thousands he had tucked away. If the guy ever got out of the pen, he’d lose his shit if he found out what the club had done with his cash. But at the same time, if the money had to be used, then it was at least gonna go toward something worthy: Peace.
Blowing out a breath, I knocked on what I hoped was Summer’s door. Lisa had told me the building name, but I couldn’t remember the apartment number exactly. And Emily? Well, she wasn’t talking to me—still pissed that I wanted to bring Summer into my world. I’d tried to explain to both her and Lisa why I’d done what I’d done—been away for three weeks. But Emily told me to fuck off and left the house, while Lisa told me she understood, probably because she was more used to the club’s ways than Emily was. Still, knowing my stepsister was pissed at me sucked.
I stuck my hands into my jean pockets, kicking the toe of my boots against the floor. A minute passed, then two, until the door flung open with a whoosh.
And there she was.
“Niyol?”
I reached for her hand, drawn to her, needing her in my arms. “Hey, Princess.”
Her eyes started watering and she put the hand I was grabbing for over her mouth. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, dressed in a pair of tight leggings and an off the shoulder tee, no bra… She looked worn out, but incredibly sexy. The picture I had stored inside my head hadn’t done her beauty justice.
I swallowed so hard I could feel it in my nuts.
“Where have you been?” she asked, face paling as she rubbed both hands up and down her arms. “It’s been three weeks!”
She moved to my right, not wasting any time with her questions. Not that I expected anything less. I was a dick, fucked up for thinking she’d still want me after abandoning her like I’d done. But I was here to apologize. It was a start.
“You told me you’d call, but you didn’t. You told me you wanted to be with me, but you made no effort to do so,” she continued.
I moved in closer, reaching up to hold her cheek in my hand. She stiffened but didn’t push me away.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I just… It was club stuff is all.”
She pushed my hands down when that was all I had to offer, anger burning in her baby blues.
“Is this what being in a relationship with you would have been like?”
Wincing at her would-have-been, I took a small step back. I couldn’t lie to her, not when I didn’t know the truth myself. I’d never been in a real relationship with a woman before. Had no clue how they worked. I wanted to claim her, though, in front of the club’s eyes—tell them with my words once and for all. She was my old lady, whether she liked the term or not. That was the first step to a forever in my world.
I cleared my throat. “Not all the time. I had a lot of shit to take care of.”
“And you couldn’t have picked up the phone and called me?” Her voice pitched, lips stretching into a tight line. “Jesus, Niyol. You have no idea what you’ve put me through.”
My throat burned as I spoke, regret hitting me hard that I didn’t try and sneak away somehow. Get a message out through Slade or Archer. But if I had, and was caught, I would’ve been done for good.
“I couldn’t. I’m back with the club and…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “They cut me off. From everyone. Everything. It was the only way they’d take me in again. I had to prove my loyalty to them. Today’s my first day of freedom, and I came straight to you.”
“You’re a grown man, Niyol. You shouldn’t let people dictate what you can and can’t do.”
“Club life is different, Sum. It’s a brotherhood. A family. We don’t fuck around and we don’t walk away. Not like I did. The fact that they’re giving me another shot is—”
“You don’t need to explain. I get it, all right?” She sighed, losing some of her anger, hands up in the air at her sides. “But I just don’t know if that’s something I want to be a part of now.”
I flinched. “Don’t say that. Please.” Terrified this was gonna be it, I ignored her need for space, stepped forward, and buried my face into her neck. “Summer, I need you. You’re my life now.”
If she didn’t take me back, accept this, I’d lose my shit. My life.
She didn’t hug me back. Instead, she sounded robotic. Annoyed, even. “I’m not a second anymore. I refuse to be.”
My eyes began to water. Fuck, I never cried, hadn’t in my entire life. But the thought of losing this woman wrecked me.
“You’re the reason I came back to face this. You made me believe I could do anything.”
She shook her head, hands still at her side. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have come back at all.”
“Don’t say shit like—”
“I get it.” She finally lifted a hand, pressing it over my heart. Leaning back, she looked up at me with an emptiness I’d do anything to fill.
Fuuuuck. She’d made up her mind before I even got here.
“You’re trying to find your way, Niyol. And I’m fine with that. Hell, I’m trying to do the same thing myself now that I’m home. But I don’t think we fit into each other’s lives the way we’re supposed to.”
“No,” I begged, pressing my forehead to hers. My heart twisted like a vise in my chest, throbbing. “Don’t do this. Please. I need you.”
She finally let me touch her face, and when I held it there between my palms, I willed her to see my soul, how it fucking ached when she wasn’t near me most of all. I was bared to her and only her, she needed to know that—see that. Feel it too.
Her eyes grew wet, filling with the same ache that was breaking me down inside. Seeing her like that, feeling the things I did… I knew what it meant—no doubt in my mind.
I was falling in love with her.
But was it too late?
Thirty-Seven
Summer
I didn’t give Niyol a chance to speak much after that. But much to my chagrin, I invited him in anyway. Instead of getting right to it, I sent him to the couch like a
toddler and told him I needed to shower.
Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him inside at all. But the part of me that was falling for him, the one who knew who he really was, deep down, couldn’t say no.
If he and I were going to be having some deep conversation, I needed to wake up. Plus, I smelled like cheap liquor and last night’s perfume, two different scents that did nothing for my hangover.
Inside the shower, I turned the water to scalding hot. As I stood under the head, I willed the tension from my shoulders, trying to breathe and prepare myself for whatever bullshit excuses Niyol was about to throw my way. If I forgave him, accepted him, what kind of future would we have? I knew nothing about his world in the club. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t want to if it meant he’d be disappearing for weeks at a time without my knowledge again.
From what I knew about his world, it was illegal and tainted. And if I were to involve myself in it, what would that mean for me? Would I have to go to all of his club parties, see him getting mauled by other women? Would I be awake all night, every night, worrying about whether he’d come home or die on the streets? That wasn’t the life I wanted to be a part of.
There again, a life without Niyol felt like an impossible life to live. Which was why he was still here. Stupid heart.
In the middle of one of my mind-boggling scenarios, the creak of the bathroom door sounded. I sighed and shook my head, knowing it was him—the man had no patience.
Facing forward, I continued to let the water fall down my chest as I waited for him. He wasn’t polite enough to stay outside and, in all actuality, his abrasive behavior turned me on. It was a shame all the raging-mad questions in my mind had not tamed my Niyol-fused libido.
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 23