Chapter Five
NITRO
Five Days Later
It’s been five goddamn days since I accidentally-on-purpose walked into Marley at The Grind, we exchanged phone numbers, then I watched her disappear, and I haven’t heard a single word.
Not a text.
Not a call.
Nothing.
I tell myself it’s fine and that she’s processing. That she had a hell of a week and needs space. But the truth is, every time my phone buzzes, my chest tightens with hope, and every time it’s not her, something dark and restless coils tighter in my gut.
I told myself I wouldn’t text her.
I wouldn’t be the creeper that Queenie was warning me about.
So, I haven’t text messaged her.
But maybe she is waiting for me to text her?
Fuck, why am I so fucking bad at this shit?
It’s currently 11:04 p.m. on Saturday, and I’m deciding whether to turn in as I sit in the middle of the clubhouse, watching Sin and Victoria make out against the wall.
Ro is cleaning up for the night. Ghost is heading off to his den.
Millie and Will sit quietly together, talking about God only knows what, when my cell starts ringing.
Furrowing my brows at who the fuck is calling me at this stupid hour, I glance at the screen, seeing an unknown number.
Groaning, I almost think about not answering, but my instinct makes me think of Queenie. Maybe something is wrong with her, so I swipe to answer. “Hello?”
“Nitrooo!” Marley’s voice comes through the speaker, loud, giggly, and if I am not mistaken, absolutely, completely, one hundred percent drunk. “It’s me! Marley! Remember me?”
My grip tightens around the phone. “Marley? Where are you?”
“I’m at—” There’s a muffled sound, suggesting she’s moving the phone away from her mouth. “Sage, what’s this place called?”
A different voice comes through, also slurred but more coherent. “Tell him we’re at Murphy’s on Third Street. And tell him we need a ride because Marley can barely stand.”
“I can t-totally stand,” Marley protests in the background, then there’s a crash and giggling. “Okay, maybe not.” She giggles, followed by an obnoxious hiccup.
Ice floods my veins, chased immediately by white-hot anger, not at her, never at her, but at whoever the fuck let her get this wasted. “Stay exactly where you are. I’m coming to get you.”
“My hero!” Marley sings out, and despite everything, despite the fear clawing at my throat, my lips twitch.
I’m walking to the clubhouse door in seconds.
“Nitro, brother, where the fuck are you going?” Sin calling after me.
But I don’t stop to explain. I grab my keys and head for the Honda. My Harley would be faster, but there’s no way I’m putting a drunk Marley on the back of my bike.
The drive to Murphy’s takes twelve minutes, but it feels like twelve stinking hours. My mind is racing with worst-case scenarios. What if she wanders out into traffic? What if some asshole tries to take advantage of her? What if she’s hurt, and I’m not there to—
Fucking breathe, Nitro.
I pull up outside Murphy’s, a dive bar with neon signs flickering in the window, and spot them immediately.
Marley is sitting on the curb with her head between her knees, her red hair falling around her face like a curtain.
Sage is standing over her, one hand on Marley’s back, the other holding both their purses.
I’m out of the car before I’ve even put it in park properly.
“Small Town,” I say softly, crouching down beside her.
Her head snaps up, and even in the dim light, her eyes are glassy and unfocused. But when she sees me, her entire face lights up as though I’m the best thing she’s ever laid eyes on.
“Nitro!” She throws her arms around my neck, nearly toppling us both over. “You came.”
“Of course I came.” I steady her, my hands on her waist, and Christ, she’s short. How did I forget how short she is? “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Sage steps forward, and despite being drunk herself, there’s a sharp, protective edge to her gaze. “You’re Nitro.”
“That’s me.” I keep one arm around her waist because she’s swaying like a willow in a windstorm.
“The Uber guy.”
“Also that.”
Sage narrows her eyes, swaying slightly. “What are your intentions with my best friend?”
I blink in confusion. “What?”
“Your intentions?” Sage jabs a finger in my direction. “Because Marley is the best person in the entire world, and if you hurt her, I will hunt you down and…” she pauses, clearly trying to think of a threat, “… and I’ll… I’ll tell everyone you’re crap at sex.”
Despite everything, I have to fight back a laugh. “Noted.”
Marley giggles against my chest. “Sage, oh my God, stop interrogating him.”
“I’m being a good friend,” Sage protests. “Someone has to make sure he’s not a serial killer.”
“I’m not a serial killer,” I say flatly.
“That’s exactly what a serial killer would say,” Sage mutters, but she lets me guide Marley toward the car.
Getting them both into the Honda is an adventure. Sage climbs into the front seat and immediately starts fiddling with the radio, while Marley collapses into the back, her head lolling against the window.
“Where am I taking you?” I ask, pulling away from the curb.
“My place,” Sage says. “Marley’s staying with me.”
I remember the address from when I dropped off Marley the first time, and I start the car. The silence lasts approximately thirty seconds before Sage twists in her seat to look at me.
“So,” she says. “You like her.”
It’s not a question.
I glance at her, then back at the road. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good,” Sage says firmly. “Because she deserves someone who actually sees her. Not like that dickhead Derek.”
My jaw tightens at the name. “She mentioned him.”
“Did she tell you what he did?” Sage’s voice goes hard. “Body-shamed her. Made her think she wasn’t good enough. Kicked her out of their house in the middle of the damn night.”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. “Yeah, she told me.”
“And now,” Sage continues, her words slurring slightly. “He’s already with someone new. Posted it on the ’Gram like he’s so fucking proud of himself. That’s why Marley…” She pauses, and I see the sadness in her eyes. “That’s why she let herself get like this tonight.”
Something dark and violent unfurls in my chest. “He what?”
“Posted a pic with his new girlfriend. Some skinny blonde.” Sage’s voice drips with venom. “Made them Instagram official one week after he dumped Marley. Which means he was obviously seeing her while they were still together.”
I don’t trust myself to speak.
If I do, I’ll say something I can’t take back.
Something that will reveal just how close I am to tracking this Derek asshole down and making him regret every breath he’s ever taken.
From the back seat, Marley makes a slight, sad sound. “I don’t even care about her,” she mumbles. “I care that I look like an idiot. That I wasted six years. That everyone at work is going to think I’m pathetic.”
I catch her eyes in the rearview mirror. Even drunk, the pain in them is gut-wrenching. “You’re not pathetic, Small Town.”
“But I am,” she insists, her voice breaking. “I’m the joke. I’m the one everyone’s going to whisper about, poke fun at. ‘Poor Marley, couldn’t even keep her man.’ And the worst part? I don’t even like him. I haven’t for a while. But somehow, he still gets to make me feel like… like I’m…”
“Like you’re what?” I ask gently.
“Worthless.” The word comes out so quietly, so broken, I almost don’t hear it. “He makes me feel worthless. And I hate that I let him do that to me.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuuuck!
I pull the steering wheel harshly right in the middle of a residential street. Sage almost hits the window with the movement.
“Shit, dude,” Sage yelps as I put the car in park and twist around to look at Marley.
“Marley, look at me!” She lifts her glassy eyes to mine. “You are not worthless,” I say, and every word is a vow. “You are brilliant, and you light up every room you walk into. That asshole couldn’t see what he had, and that’s on him. Not you.”
Her lip trembles. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I hold her gaze, willing her to believe me. “And if anyone at your office whispers about you? Fuck them! They don’t matter. The only opinion that matters is yours.”
Sage, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, speaks up, “He’s right, babe. Derek is a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve you. And anyone who thinks you’re a joke is blind.”
Marley’s eyes well with tears, and one spills over, tracking down her cheek. “I just… I hate feeling like this.”
“I know.” I reach back and gently wipe the tear away with my thumb. “But you won’t feel like this forever. I promise.”
She catches my hand, holding it against her cheek. Her skin is warm, flushed from the alcohol, and the touch sends electricity racing up my arm.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For coming. For… for everything.”
“Anytime, Small Town. I mean it… anytime.”
We stay like this for a moment longer before Sage clears her throat. “Okay, as heartwarming as this is, can we please get home? I think I’m gonna throw up.”
I turn back to the steering wheel and pull back into traffic. The rest of the drive passes in relative silence. By the time we reach Sage’s place, Marley is half asleep in the back seat, her head resting against the window.
I help Sage out first, then head around to Marley’s side. When I open the door, she nearly falls out, and I catch her with a grunt.
“Oopsie.” She giggles, looping her arms around my neck. “You caught me.”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, lifting her into my arms. She’s light, so fucking light it makes my chest ache, and she burrows into me as if she belongs there.
Sage fumbles with her keys, cursing under her breath, and finally gets the door open. I carry Marley inside, following Sage’s directions to the guest room.
The room is small and cozy, with a double bed covered in a floral quilt. I set Marley down gently, and she immediately curls onto her side, her hair spilling across the pillow.