“I’m not selfish,” Charlee protests. “I’ve protected her every damn day of my life. How was I supposed to introduce her to you knowing you could’ve been blown to bits at any moment? And don’t you dare bullshit me. I got a glance of your back, Kaden. What if it ended up being far worse, like for instance you actually dying? I wasn’t about to let her feel that pain.”
Stiffening as she throws the scars in my face. “We’re done,” I grind out, taking a step back, turning on my heel and storming away from her, heading for my truck. Whistling for Koda, I open the door, wait for him to jump in, and climb in behind him.
Fuck staying here right now.
Fuck all of this.
Fuck it all.
She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about and I’m not about to stand here and explain it to her.
Starting the truck, I back up and switch gears, throwing rocks as I hit the gas, flying out of the parking lot without a backwards glance. At least I wasn’t too fucked up to drive. I’ll finish getting trashed at my house.
Chapter Seven
Charlee
Rubbing my fingers against my temple as I sit in this shitty bar on the edge of town, I curse myself for ever letting my mom guilt me into driving down to Kaden’s clubhouse. I mean really, what was I thinking? Of course, it wasn’t going to go well.
“Want another one darlin’?” the bartender asks. He’s got a smile that would make many girls lose their minds around here, but on the East Coast that’s every other guy. With medium brown hair and grassy green eyes, I can tell with one glance he shouldn’t be stuck in a bar like this. He looks like the type of guy who’d look great as a model for a marketing campaign. Not overly bulky, but not too average. He’s the perfect mixture of charm and good manners, like that famous TikTok guy, Cody Smith. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him on a few book covers over the years. I might’ve even read one. One of the guys over at Kaden’s club looked so much like the dude, I swore I was doing a double take, but then he walked off and disappeared out of my sight at the club. If I see him again, I’ll have to pay more attention. Who knows, I could be losing my mind a bit.
Nodding, “Yes, please.”
“Sure thing. Another mint mojito, or are you cravin’ something a bit different?”
“A mint mojito would be great,” I answer coolly, finishing off the last bit of my drink and hand him the glass. He takes it from me, sets it down in the wash basin, and goes over to where the glasses are and begins making me a new one.
“You from around here? I haven’t seen you before and well, I’d recognize a lady like you.” He cackles, surely realizing how cheesy he just sounded. “I mean, I’d . . . it’s not often pretty women like you come walking in this little bar. Most go to the ones in the inner city, you know?”
“You mean the ones filled with overbearing assholes who won’t let a woman drink in peace? Yeah, I don’t think so. I came here to clear my mind, not make my headache worse.” I laugh and he nods his head in agreement. While I might’ve been out of town for a few years, I know things haven’t changed that much since I’ve been gone.
“I’m Noah.” He extends his hand and I take it.
“Charlee.”
“Nice to meet you, Charlee.” Noah takes his hand away from mine and finishes making my drink, setting the glass on the bar before me.
“Likewise. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place this . . .”
“Empty. Yeah, the owner died last year and his idiot grandson inherited the joint. The asshole doesn’t know what common courtesy or quality customer service is. And yeah, the fuckwit is my boss, but I’ll call it like I see it.”
I fail at holding back my laughter and take a sip of my new mojito. “Hey, honesty is rare these days.”
“You can say that again,” I murmur.
“So, what brings you to town?” Noah questions while wiping a rag over the top of the bar.
“My mother. She had surgery not long ago so my daughter and I moved back to Portland to help her out. It was going to be a temporary thing, but I don’t think we’re going back to where we were living.”
“Oh, well, I hope everything’s okay.”
I nod, figuring I don’t need to go around and tell everyone how my husband is a cheating douchebag. “Yeah, it was just time for us to come home.”
“Man, I get that. I was living in Florida for a couple years. I wanted to be on the beach every day, soak up the sun, and all that. I lasted three years before I missed the smell of warm apple cider and campfires. Sometimes we just need to come back to the place we know the best.”
He isn’t wrong. Even though my circumstances were different than I thought, maybe the world was trying to force me back here to Portland for some reason. The bell on the door rings, signifying someone else is entering the bar so Noah stands up a little straighter. “Hey, guys, how’re you doin’ tonight?”
“Good, Noah. You see any Deathstalkers around here?” the guy questions, and at the mention of Kaden’s club I find myself narrowing my eyes in on him. He’s wearing a cut just like Kaden and his boys do, but instead of it saying ‘Deathstalkers MC’, it reads ‘Toxic Warriors MC’. The guy speaking to Noah is about six-four, has a stocky build but I’m sure if he was wearing a fitted tee you’d
