“Fuck,” I hiss. “I got an Old Lady.”
He chuckles, though the laughter itself doesn’t show on his face, doesn’t reach his eyes. “You gonna tell me what the fuck?” I ask.
He shakes his head, then looks down at the scarred bar before lifting his gaze to meet mine. His eyes are glassy and he’s drunk as fuck. Drunk enough that the typically closed-mouth guy will probably tell me what the fuck is going on with him and Mamba.
“She left us. Said she couldn’t be with us when it was clear she was the third wheel.”
“Was she?” I ask immediately, then press my lips together and wonder if I’ve spoken out of turn.
Gator shrugs a shoulder, turning his head he looks to the side and his lips curve up into a grin. I follow his line of sight and curse at who is walking through the hallway. It’s Pamela. She’s wearing her jean shorts again and a tank now, her hair is brushed and her face has been washed of all traces of makeup.
She looks fucking beautiful.
Shifting my gaze back to Gator, I try to focus on him again, enjoying the way that we’re just talking. For so long, I didn’t talk to my brothers. I was so fucking angry at the world, at Della, at everyone, that I isolated myself and I ruined my relationships. I see it now and I hope that I can fix it all.
“Was she the third wheel?” I ask.
Gator turns his head, his eyes finding mine after moving around trying to focus, and he grunts. “No, yeah, hell I don’t know. I love Mamba,” he admits. “Loved him longer than I even know. I loved her too, but it didn’t rip my heart out when she left. I wouldn’t be able to breathe if he left me.”
Fuck.
I think about the way I felt when I thought Pammy was going to leave, when I thought that she was going to walk out of my life and my heart squeezed. It does right now at the thought. Gator clears his throat, and I shift my gaze from his to the little blonde standing next to him.
She’s watching me, her eyes searching my face as she tries to find some kind of answer to some question that’s floating around in her pretty head.
“You need to tell him, Gator. Tell him everything. Only thing you can do is be honest.”
“Honest?” he mumbles.
Jerking my attention from Pammy, I connect my eyes with his. “Yeah, brother. Honest. I wasn’t honest with Della, with anyone. Hell, I wasn’t honest with myself and all it did was fuck me over on a regular basis.”
“Now?” he asks.
My lips curve up into a grin. “I’m breathin’ and I think I got something really good with Sunny.”
He chuckles, lifting his arm and slides it around Pammy’s shoulder. “You mean, Jailbait here? Girl, please don’t tell me you’ve allowed this fucker inside your sweet little body, and heart?” he’s laughing, and it’s a joke, but my blood starts pounding nonetheless.
Pamela laughs too, shaking her head a couple of times. Then her eyes find mine and I see something inside of them that I don’t quite understand.
“He was in my heart the minute he looked at me the first time.”
“Fuck,” Gator hisses. “You’re a goner, both of you are.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
I am gone for her, fucking lost to her and in her. I don’t know what it is about her, maybe it’s just because of who she is, but mostly, I think it’s because of who I am right now.
A year ago, I wouldn’t have even given her a second glance. I was lost. She came into my life, she needed to be rescued, and so did I. She gave me all of that.
PAMELA
Something has shifted. Not just within Dylan, but with his brothers as well. Granted, he said he’s not in the fold anymore, but that doesn’t appear to be the case, especially not tonight. A few guys bring him beers and slap him on the back as they talk.
I don’t listen to any of their conversations knowing without a doubt that they aren’t for me, not unless I’ve specifically been invited into them. But I observe.
I take in what is happening around me, and what’s happening is that Dylan is being let in again. Albeit slowly, but he’s still being let in. That’s all that matters.
He curves his arm around my neck, bending his elbow slightly as he pulls me closer to him, then ever so casually he dips his chin and touches his lips to the top of my head. Warmth fills me at the small and seemingly insignificant move.
It’s not insignificant though, it’s comforting and comfortable all at the same time. It’s something I’ve never felt before. Being here, with him, with his people, I’ve never felt this safe. I soak it all in, every minute, not taking it for granted and knowing that it could be ripped from me at any moment.
Because that’s the way life is.
We only get pieces of perfection handed to us, and right now, this is a piece and I’m going to cherish it for the rest of my life.
“Shit,” Dylan hisses.
Tilting my head back, I look up at him, but he’s looking across the bar and he is focused. Following his line of sight, I look to see what holds his attention and I frown. It’s Dragon, his gaze is locked in on Dylan’s and he jerks his chin toward his office.
Without a backward glance to me, he releases his hold on me and walks away. I take a step to follow him, but a strong arm wraps around my waist. Turning around, I look up to see who belongs to the arm and I’m surprised to see that it’s Mamba.
“Dragon’s going to talk to him, don’t need you
