“And then the truth came out.” It’s not a question or a guess. It’s the only thing that could have forced her to do this. Whatever this is.
“And then the truth came out,” she says softly. “It’s so dumb. It’s like I was waiting for something to happen. I’m not really that great of a person, Wyatt. I’ve said horrible things to others. I am really a bitch, despite how much I try to act like I’m not. I can’t help it. Lashing out at others, it just feels good to get it out there.”
“That doesn’t make you a terrible person. Yes, I believe you’ve said and done things you aren’t proud of, but we all have. I know you. I’ve been around and spent time with you. You aren’t a bad person. You just handle things in a way that makes sense to you.”
“I’ve been lying to you. This whole time I’ve pretended to be someone I’m not. All so I could pretend that my past didn’t happen. I don’t want to remember all the times I’ve lain like this, exactly like this in Jonathan’s arms. I don’t want to think about how he made me feel, because, at the time, I thought it was the greatest feeling in the world. I was happy. I wanted to be with him.”
It hurts. It hurts so fucking much, to hear her talk like this about someone else. The thought of her spending time with someone who isn’t me, of her touching him the way she’s touches me, breaks me.
“And then come to find out he knew that everything in my life was a lie. He knew. Our relationship was nothing but a lie. When my sister chose Olivia over Albert, that was the final straw. I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t pretend that I wasn’t broken inside. So I killed the person I was.
Marley Fallon doesn’t exist. She’s just an excuse. Someone I could hide behind. Someone who kept me safe.”
“Then who are you, really?”
“I don’t know. I was living a lie in Georgia. The girl I was there is not the person I am, she’s not the person I want to be. But the girl I’ve pretended to be here isn’t me either.”
“I’ve seen you in action. I’ve watched you at school, at work, and at home. I’ve also seen you defend me against Mikayla. I’ve seen you befriend Kala and challenge Mikayla. I’ve seen you befriend two old men who sit in your section every week. I’ve seen you interact with my sisters like they’re your own. I think the person you are now, is the one you’ve always been. You’ve just been too lost to see it.”
“My name is Pagan Fallon, and my world was torn apart just months ago. I think I’ve always been a little broken. But now, now I think the damage is irreversible.”
“No, I don’t think it is. I think you just need to trust me. I’ll take care of you.”
“But who will take care of you?”
“You can. When you’re ready.”
Pagan moves closer to me. If such a thing were possible, her hand slides from my chest to my neck.
“I’m not ready for everything, but I think I’m ready to try, just a little.”
“I can do that,” I whisper, my lips dangerously close to hers.
“Good. You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“Kiss me.”
I do.
I kiss her like it’s the first time. And truthfully it is. Because whatever hesitation she had before, it’s reduced. I know it will be a long time before she gives in completely. In order for us to be us, she has to let go and tell everyone the truth. Until then, there will always be a barrier. But I don’t mind it so much. I get to keep her for now, and I’ll cherish it.
I kiss her, hoping I can convey some of the emotion that I’m feeling. I don’t know what this is. But right here and now, holding Pagan in my arms, I know that this is the best thing that I’ve ever experienced.
Pagan
“Why does Davis want to see us?” I ask, pulling my hair into a ponytail. There’s nothing else I can do with it, especially since we’re supposed to be at the club in about fifteen minutes.
“No idea. But we better hurry. He sounded impatient when he called.”
“Great. Just what I fucking need.”
Wyatt comes out of the bathroom saying, “It’ll be okay. I think he just wants to talk.”
“Nobody else can know about my name. Davis knows, of course. But Tony and Margie and everyone, they can’t know yet.”
“I know,” he says as he wraps his arms around me from behind. We are definitely more than friends.
“I’m sorry. I just, I knew this day would come. But I thought you’d be mad and want nothing to do with me after. I don’t know what I’m doing, Wyatt. It’s nice to know that you’re here. But I’m asking you to lie.”
“Pagan.” He sighs. God my name sounds so good coming from him. “I’ll do or be anything you need. You should know that already.”
“Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.”
Quietly, Wyatt and I make our way downstairs. The house is still. “Mary must have taken them out,” Wyatt says.
There’s another car in the garage, one that wasn’t there last night. “Oh joy, my mother is home.” There’s no emotion in his voice. None of the anger I was expecting. And that worries me.
When Wyatt shuts the car door after I get in, I notice his motorcycle parked in the next space. I guess I was so out of it last night I didn’t know it was there.
“What’s the deal with the bike?” I ask as he pulls out of the garage.
“Sixteenth birthday present to myself,” he replies. “I was a little angry and just a little bit reckless. So I forged my mother’s signature on some paperwork at the DMV, and a few weeks later I taught myself how to ride on my brand new motorcycle.
Mary hates it. She’s worried I’m going to kill myself. But I like the rush it gives me. Driving on the back roads, taking the corners way too fast, feeling nothing but the wind and open space around me. It’s freeing.”
“Will you take me sometime?”
“Of course. We’ll start out slow. I would never put you in the kind of danger I put myself in. But if you want to learn to ride I’ll teach you. It’s not difficult. If you don’t, well, I wouldn’t mind having you hang onto me.” He shoots me a grin.
I roll my eyes. “You’re such a guy.”
“So glad you noticed.”
I slap his arm. “Asshole.”
The guard at the gate takes a quick look at our employee badges before waving us in. I asked Wyatt once why it was so secure. His response was because the rich and privileged liked to think they were important.
This is the only country club within a twenty-five-mile radius, and the owner wants to make sure it is the best of the best. So everything is over the top and catered so that the wealthy can show off how rich they are.
We walk down the hall that holds the management offices. Rithy is sitting in her office, doing something on her phone. “Davis is expecting us,” Wyatt tells her.
She jumps in her chair a little. Apparently, she didn’t hear us come in. “Great, I’ll just let him know.” She smiles a little too wide at Wyatt and reaches for the phone.
I can’t help but notice how her top shows way too much cleavage. The way she tries to subtly lean forward and pick up the phone lets me know it’s deliberate.
Wyatt grabs my hand and squeezes. He’s too observant not to have picked up on what she’s doing. Poor girl, she’d be really pretty if she didn’t try so hard. Plus she’s Davis’ assistant. If she were good at her job, she would know that Wyatt is only seventeen.
Taking a breath, I try to give myself a reality check. Wyatt isn’t mine. I need to hold off on my jealousy until we figure out where our relationship is going. If it even goes anywhere.
“Go on in,” Rithy says, hanging up the phone.
“Thanks.” Wyatt leads me out of her office and around the corner to Davis’ door.
“Couldn’t we have used the adjoining door between their offices?”
“We could have, but really, she would have looked at my ass, it’s weird.”
“You do have a nice ass,�
� I remark, leaning back to stare at said ass.
“Thank you. You’re the only one allowed to stare.”
“I feel so special.”
“You should.”
Wyatt opens the door and lets me enter the office first. Davis is sitting behind his large desk, much like he was when I came to see him about my job. That was almost three months ago. It’s strange how time flies.
“Thank you for coming in. You don’t need to be scared. Your jobs aren’t in jeopardy. I just want to talk.” Davis smiles, like that will make it better.
“You handled yourselves very well yesterday, considering the circumstances.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure what to do. But I couldn’t let her take their table.”
“Agreed. After what I had to deal with, I don’t blame you.”
“I’m sorry if my parents made things difficult for you.”
“Don’t be. It’s part of my job description. They very much wanted to talk to you. I told them that they are not allowed to bring family issues to the workplace, and if they want to continue being members then they have to follow the rules.”
“Are Olivia and Richard members?”
“No, but Albert is allowed to bring guests, provided that he give the name at the gate, and they show proper ID.”
“I didn’t even know Albert was a member,” I state.
“Yes, well, he joined shortly after you started working. Though I can assume he never showed up while you were working?”
“He has, he would just sit in the bar during those times,” Wyatt speaks up.
“How do you know?”
“Tony would inform me. He lets me know when my mother is there, and everyone knows Albert Fallon. He asked if he should tell you, the first time it happened. That was right after the Sunday dinner. I didn’t think it was a good idea so I said no. Since then he’s been in four separate times. I’m sorry for not telling you.”
He does look sorry, like he expects me to be upset. “Don’t worry. It’s probably best that I didn’t know. I understand.” And I do. To a point, but I have nothing to counter argue.
“I wanted to talk to you two because I want to make sure you were okay with what happened yesterday. You are my best servers, I would hate to lose you because neither one of you have good home lives.”
“I have a good home life. My grandparents are great.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean anything by that. Jodie and Frank are good people.” Davis clasps his hands on the desk and leans forward. “But Jodie has explained a little bit of your situation. I’m sorry, Marley, but I feel it is important to address this.”
“I agree,” Wyatt says. “What are you thinking?”
“I think that it would be best if neither of you waited on your families. You can either pass the table to whoever you’re working with at the time, or on to each other. Whichever you are more comfortable with, but I think it would be best if you didn’t have that kind of stress.”
“That’s doable,” I say.
“Yes, I agree. It couldn’t hurt to try.” Wyatt replies.
“Great. I’m really looking out for the best of my employees. If you’re unsatisfied, then the members will be unsatisfied. That’s all I wanted to discuss. Unless you have anything to add, you may go. Thank you so much for coming in.”
“Well, that was painless,” Wyatt remarks when we’re outside heading toward his car.
“It’s nice that he cares and notices things like that. Not many people would.”
“I would.”
“Yeah, but you’re special.”
“Then so are you because you are just like me in that aspect.” He’s not wrong.
“So what do you want to do now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to go home, that’s for sure.”
“What to go for a ride? It’s been a few weeks since I went out.”
“That would be nice.”
“We have to go get you a helmet first. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that pretty head of yours.”
“Oh, you care about my head. How sweet.”
“I care about all of you,” he replies.
I find myself pushed against the side of his car, his lips on mine, his hands in my hair, mine in his. We might not be defined. We might not ever be anything than what we are now. But I’m perfectly okay with that. I don’t want to be anywhere but right here in this moment. I want to stay right here in his arms.
Forever.
Chapter 17
Pagan
The name of the shop Wyatt takes me to is Scooter’s Specialties. It’s a plain white building with windows that are tinted so you can’t look in. Nothing screams bike shop. It’s the type of place that’s easily missed if you don’t know it’s there.
The inside, however, is a treasure trove of things for anything with two wheels. It’s a little overwhelming at first, but the deeper we go, the more fascinated I become.
All sorts of accessories for motorcycles are displayed on one side of the store, while regular bicycles and their accessories are displayed on the other side. The store is a decent size and packed full, but while it should be cramped, the way things are placed makes for an easily navigated maze.
Wyatt leads me up to the counter where a guy with long dark hair sits on a stool writing in a book of some kind.
“Can I help you?” he asks in a bored tone.
“We need to get Pagan a helmet,” Wyatt says.
He called me Pagan. While I should be upset, I’m not. This is someone I will probably never see again. He looks to be at least twenty, so I don’t have to worry about running into him at school. His clothes indicate that he doesn’t run in the same circle as my family. There is nothing that would ever bring the two of us together again.
So I can’t be upset. Wyatt calling me Pagan is just so natural.
The guy looks up and smiles. “Wyatt. Long time no see.”
“I haven’t had a need to come back until now,” Watt replies, nodding his head at me.
“So I see. Pagan, was it? I’m Terrence. I’m in charge when my brother isn’t around, which is happening more and more these days.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Terrence.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“I don’t really have one.”
“Really? A girl who does not have a favorite color, I like you.” Terrence grins, and it causes a dimple to appear in his right cheek. “Pick a color, Wyatt.”
Wyatt stares at me silently for a few seconds. His eyes appraise me from the top of my head to the toes of my sandals. “Purple,” he finally replies.
“Full face?”
“Of course.”
“Excellent.” Terrence rounds the counter, a measuring tape in his hand. “Give me one second. Don’t move.”
I stand as still as I can. This whole scenario is weird. This was so not what I was picturing when Wyatt said we were going to get a helmet.
“Back in a few minutes,” Terrence says after he measures my head.
He disappears through a door behind the counter and when I’m sure he’s out of earshot I say, “He’s crazy.”
“Yes, he is. But he knows just about anything that has to do with moving parts. He bakes the best pumpkin bread ever, and he loves his brother, even though Scooter is an ass.”
“He bakes?”
“He does.”
“Interesting.”
“Seriously, I think his pumpkin bread is better than Jodie’s.”
“Don’t say that around Jodie.”
“Oh, she knows,” Terrence replies, coming out of the backroom with a box. “There was a bake off at the club a few years ago and I kicked her ass.”
“He also has a thing for surveillance. There’s a camera and microphone in the corner.” Wyatt nods his head to said devices that are mounted over the counter.
“Nice.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m everything y’all said and more. Now, take a look at this.�
� Terrence pulls a black helmet out of the box.
It’s not a plain black though. It has bursts of purple swirls covering it. There’s no pattern to the design, the color just flows along the background.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks. It took me weeks to figure out how to get what was in my head onto paper, and then into my program.”
“You designed this?”
“I design all the gear.”
“Wow.”
Terrence shows me how to put on the helmet, and he makes a few adjustments, but otherwise, it fits perfectly. “Now, lovely Pagan, you are ready to ride.”
Wyatt smiles at Terrence’s words. “Yes, she is,” he agrees.
I can’t help but smile as well.
Wyatt takes out a black credit card and hands it over to Terrence. Before Terrence is able to hand it back, however, I snatch it out of his hand.
The little plastic card reads Wyatt M. Hensley. I’ve never seen a black card up close. Gramps has one but he doesn’t use it often. Mostly he just hands it over to Gran whenever he pisses her off.
“It’s just a credit card, Pay,” Wyatt says.
“No, it’s your credit card. It’s different. Everything about you is different," I reply.
“Y’all are so cute,” Terrence says suddenly. “How long have you been together? And why in the hell did you not tell me, Wy?”
“Because we’re not together. Pagan and I are just friends.”
“Whatever you say,” Terrence replies in a sing-song voice.
I hand the card back to Wyatt. “It was nice meeting you,” I tell Terrence after Wyatt grabs the helmet off the counter and then grabs my hand.
“See you around, Terrence,” Wyatt calls over his shoulder as we walk away.
“I’ll just be here, ya know being bored and shit. Come by anytime,” he yells after us.
“I like him,” I say once we’re back in the car.
“I do too. I guess if I had to name a friend it would be him.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Shut up.”
“It is. You’re not exactly the friendly type.”
“Yeah, well neither are you.”
“Touché.”
The rest of the drive passes in silence. We spend more time not talking than we do talking. And I prefer it this way. I think I can learn more about Wyatt through his silence than through his words.
Forever (Destroyed by Love #1) Page 10