Chapter Forty-One
I DIDN’T KNOW how I made it through the rest of my shift.
Every drink I poured, every fake smile I forced, felt like a thread unraveling.
My hands shook so bad behind the bar I had to steady them against the counter more than once.
Pretending my heart wasn’t breaking into a million pieces took everything I had left.
I told myself I’d been prepared for this moment, that deep down I’d expected it, Chain going back to his old habits. But that was a lie I’d built to survive, and tonight it crumbled easy as ash.
I knew Roxanne hated me. Knew she wanted Chain for herself.
Hell, half the bar probably knew it. And I knew they’d been together before; Ruby told me weeks ago, swearing up and down it was nothing, that he didn’t look at Roxanne that way anymore.
But the image of her—naked, in his office—was a blade I couldn’t pull free.
“Lark,” Ruby said softly as we drove back to the clubhouse, headlights cutting through the long stretch of dark road. “I don’t think he was lyin’ about Roxanne.”
“She was naked,” I said, my voice flat, eyes fixed on the passing trees. “Why would he let her be in his office naked?”
“Roxanne’s a spiteful bitch,” Ruby muttered. “She probably thought she could tempt him, make you jealous. Instead she got herself fired.”
I turned toward her. “He fired her?”
Ruby nodded, hands tight on the steering wheel. “He was furious. Cassie was walking down the hall and heard the whole thing. Said he told Gatsby to get her off the property. Roxanne was cussin’ the whole way out.”
My stomach twisted. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Ruby sighed, giving me that look that said she wished she could fix it. “Just… don’t throw him away and find out later it was a mistake.”
When we pulled up in front of the clubhouse, the familiar glow of the porch light made my chest ache. Everything about this place felt too close, too much like home for a girl who still wasn’t sure she deserved one.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“Try to get some sleep,” she said gently.
I nodded, but sleep was the last thing waiting for me.
I stood there until Ruby’s taillights disappeared, the hum of her car fading into the night.
The air smelled like pine and smoke, the faintest trace of rain somewhere far off.
I wasn’t ready to go inside, not ready to see anyone or pretend I was fine.
My chest felt too tight, like every emotion I’d swallowed was pressing to get out.
So I started walking.
The gravel crunched under my boots, the night heavy around me. Crickets sang in the grass. Somewhere in the distance, a bike engine rumbled faintly before fading away.
Everything had changed so damn fast. A month ago, I was still trying to figure out how to live outside the cult, still learning what freedom even meant. Now I was standing here, caught between two men, two lives, two versions of myself.
And Zach… God, Zach. I was so confused about everything right now.
The thought hit me like a sucker punch every time it came back. I’d mourned him for years, built my strength out of that grief, and now he was out there breathing, walking and waiting on me to meet him tomorrow.
I reflected on my early thoughts in that alley, and digging deeper into my feelings for each man.
I’d loved Zach once—so sure and so completely it burned. But again, what I felt for Chain wasn’t the same. It was deeper, louder. It consumed me, stripped me bare in ways that terrified and thrilled me both.
Maybe I was seeing more in that scene with Roxanne because I needed an excuse to pull away before he broke me completely.
I stopped walking, the night still around me. “No,” I whispered, my breath trembling against the dark. “That’s not it.”
The truth was, I didn’t want to lose Chain. Even when every scar I carried warned me not to trust, I wanted him anyway.
The wind picked up, cool against my skin, and I drew my arms around myself. The clubhouse lights were a distant glow now. The property stretched wide, the pond silvered by moonlight, trees whispering secrets in the breeze.
Then something moved.
Just a flicker at first—a shape near the edge of the woods. Too tall to be the wind, too quick to be a trick of light. My pulse jumped.
“Hello?” I called quietly, but the sound of my own voice seemed to disappear into the night. The shadow shifted, then vanished.
My heart kicked hard. “Get a hold of yourself, Lark,” I muttered. “Now you’re seeing Chain’s ghosts.”
I turned back toward the clubhouse, shaking my head at my own paranoia—and collided with a solid wall of heat and muscle.
A scream tore out of me before I could stop it, tearing through the quiet night.