“I will be,” I lie.
She looks at me, really looks at me, then shakes her head once. “I had to get my things. I’m leaving.”
She says it as if she’s looking for my permission. I thought she got her things yesterday, but maybe she was just making an announcement. I don’t know if she’s trying to get them to stop her, or if she just likes being dramatic. If I were leaving somewhere, I’d get my shit and be gone, not make a bunch of announcements about it.
I watch her, unsure why she thinks she needs to tell me anything. Thinking that maybe she just really likes drama that much, if that’s the case, it’s probably best that she’s gone. Then she takes a step toward me, licking her lips as she looks from side to side.
“Heading back to the Sinister Skulls, you can come with me if you want, start fresh.”
I blink.
Start fresh.
With another club?
It’s not possible.
I open my mouth to tell her that they’re all the same and that she’s just dreaming if she thinks anything will change other than their names and looks. I don’t say that though. Instead, I clear my throat before I gather my words.
“I’m good here,” I lie.
She nods her head once, taking a step backward, and leans down, grabbing ahold of her bag again. I can tell she’s scared or nervous, maybe she’s not used to being on her own. Seems she’s got her mind made up, even if she’s not convinced she’s doing the right thing.
“Bye, Pamela. Take care of them.”
Her words are cryptic, but she doesn’t explain herself. Instead, she walks past me and toward a small white car that looks like it’s seen better days. My eyes follow her until something else catches my gaze.
It’s Dylan.
His hand is pressed against the small of Pinkie’s back and they’re walking toward a metal warehouse-type building, Mamba is at their back. He isn’t looking at them though, his eyes are on the woman getting into the crappy white car.
My focus and attention are on the only two people that I thought I could trust. Two people that are probably a much better match and more suited than I would be with Dylan, but that doesn’t make my heartbreak any less painful.
Chapter Thirteen
JAGUAR
By the end of the day, I can tell that Pinkie feels better. She’s still down, but at least she doesn’t look like she wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come back out. I even catch her smiling a few times and before my work for the day is complete, I’ve heard her laugh.
Mamba, on the other hand, is scowling and doesn’t even crack a smile, not even a twitch of his lips. I keep a pulse on him, but I’m not in the position to ask or counsel him at all. Not that he would trust me to do it anyway.
But I can see the hurt lurking inside of him. His woman is gone, broke up with him and Gator and he’s busted the fuck up over it. Don’t blame him. Been there. Thought I was never going to get over the fact that I couldn’t hold on to Della. Thought it was the end of me when she married Eagle.
I was wrong.
It was just the beginning.
I learned more about myself, who I was and who I wasn’t. Who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do, after she did what she did. After I fucked everything up. That was when I finally woke up from the twenty-year fog that I had been living in.
Too bad it was all too goddamn late for me. It’s not for Mamba and Gator though. They can still move on and forward with their lives. Maria, for whatever reason, isn’t for them. They’ll find what they need.
I want to be able to tell him all of that, but I don’t. Again, not my place, not my time. Something flashes in the corner of my eye and I turn to see Pinkie swinging her legs back and forth as she sits on the edge of the table.
The product is completely loaded into the truck and I inhale a deep breath before stumbling over to her. With a groan, I sit on the table next to her. Sliding my arm around her waist, I tug her close to me, her hip touching mine.
“You good, babe?” I ask.
There’s a moment of silence and then she whispers, “Thank you for forcing me out here today.”
“Doesn’t answer my question,” I point out.
She lets out a heavy sigh, then nods her head once. “I’m better. I’ll never be good,” she admits.
“Yeah, I hear that.”
There’s a moment of silence before she hums. “Yeah, you will, Jag. That girl is special. I see the way she looks at you, but more importantly, I see the way that you look at her. I shouldn’t encourage the two of you, not at all.”
“Don’t matter. Nothing’ll happen.”
I don’t ask her why she shouldn’t encourage us, it doesn’t matter because nothing is going to happen.
She doesn’t say anything right away, but I can feel her focus on me, her eyes burning into my skin. Turning my head, I look at her, arching a brow as I wait for her to speak.
“What?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything.
Pinkie shrugs a shoulder before hopping off of the table. She turns to me, her eyes wide and focused. Then she finally says whatever is on her mind, because it’s obvious that there’s something seriously lurking behind her gaze.
“She’s young. I get it. You don’t want to fuck her up, I get that too. Just remember that you saved her. She may be young, but she’s not completely naïve. She was raised in Hell and maybe you’re her salvation and the more I get to know her the more I think you would be
