by K. T Fisher
I then run away before they can say anything else. They’re my friends and I love them but I don’t like the questions they’re asking. I quickly make it out to my car, thankfully dodging my mother because she can read me like an open book and will know straight away that something is wrong.
While I’m stood next to my car, I’m struggling to find my car keys when I hear footsteps behind me. There are a lot of people around the clubhouse today because it’s a Saturday, so I don’t think anything of it. That is until a shiver breaks out along my spine and then spreads throughout my entire body. Only one person has ever managed to make me feel like this.
Bomber.
“Running away?” He asks.
I find it a little sad to hear that his English accent has slightly merged to an American one. It’s a strange accent, a mixture of the two. He’s been there for the most part of his life now, so it’s not a surprise but it is a reminder that he was with the Devils. Whether under cover for Franky or not, he still saw me in that position.
“No, I have a hair appointment.” I stop rummaging through my bag and dare to take a look at him. His good looks almost take away my breath. Fucking hell, why does he have to be so sexy?
Bomber nods his head. “Right.”
In an act of defending myself, my hand places itself on my hip. “I do actually.”
A slight smirk comes across on his face. Damn those lips are calling out to me.
“I remember that pose very well.” He laughs. “It’s good to see you’re still a little brat.”
My mouth opens in shock. “I’m not a brat.”
I literally have to fight myself not to stomp my foot but then I remember I’m not twelve years old anymore and I am defending myself against Bomber calling me a brat. Stomping my foot on the ground is kind of making his point.
“Maybe not so much now.” He nods, looking me over. “You’ve grown to be a very beautiful woman Lissy.”
The childhood nickname that he and Scrappy originally gave me makes my heart pound.
“Thank you.” Is all I can think to say, and I return to trying to find my car keys.
“Why haven’t you spoken to me since I’ve been back?” He asks.
Shit, first the girls and him.
“We were so close Lissy, and even though I left with my Dad, I thought that we would always stay close. What’s happened?” He asks with a frown, this only makes him look hotter.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Look,” I say as I clear my throat. “Scrappy doesn’t like that you’re back.”
“And you have to respect him?” He finishes for me. “Since when did you do as you’re told?”
I bite my lip but the words just flow out anyway. “Since the day you left me.”
His frown deepens I fight the tears forming in the back of my eyes.
“I want to be back in your life Lissy.” Bomber insists.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I reply, and I finally find my keys wedged under my purse.
“There a problem here?” Baby suddenly shows up out of nowhere from behind Bomber. “You ok Elise?”
With a single nod, I get into my car and drive away.
***
Waiting for Drew to finish her last client before me, I think through what Bomber had said. He wants to be back in my life but in what way?
I somehow think that Scrappy wouldn’t like either. With a heavy sigh, I lean back in the puffy sofa. I’m early for my appointment with Drew anyway so I don’t mind waiting. I just needed to get away from everyone’s questions.
My phone alerts me to a text and when I get it out I see that it’s from Scrappy. When I open it, my head falls back in frustration.
SCRAP: Heard that you were getting cosy with Bomber
Oh for fuck sake! So obviously Baby ran straight to Scrappy and told him!
ME: No we were just talking!
As I throw my phone back into my bag, I hear another text alert. So I turn it off, I cannot be bothered anymore.
When did my life suddenly become so complicated?