Chapter Twelve
SO MUCH FOR a pick-me-up shopping trip.
After Carly and Birdie made plans to start the training tomorrow, Carly took off to meet Zev, and Birdie paced the kitchen, her mind a mess of worry and determination. She needed yoga now more than ever.
She grabbed her yoga bag and was heading up front when her phone chimed.
Rebel: Shit day. Roadhouse after yoga?
Relief swamped her. She’d thought she’d have to stew over this by herself. Maybe the universe doesn’t hate me after all. She thumbed out, YES! and pocketed her phone before heading out.
She locked the door, and as she descended the steps, Ragnar stepped into the glow of the streetlight. Her heart nearly stopped, but she didn’t. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing as she stalked past him.
“Trouble, wait.” His voice was rough and somehow also pleading.
The nickname hit her deep in her chest, his heavy boots sounding behind her. “Ragnar,” she said flatly. “Or is it Crew today?”
“Birdie, please hear me out. I came to apologize.”
“Great.” She didn’t slow down, heading for her car. “You’re about three emotional meltdowns too late.”
He gritted out, “Fuck.”
She spun around so fast he almost ran into her. “Did you know who I was the whole time?” she fumed. “Did you use me for some kind of warped game?”
“No,” he said vehemently, eyes pleading. “Jesus. I had no idea who you were.”
“That’s funny, because you knew exactly who my family was.”
“Yes, but I didn’t connect the dots,” he said angrily.
“You were Trouble. A funny, sexy, down-to-earth firecracker, not Birdie Whiskey, the sister of the guy I almost killed. I never would have let things go so far. I didn’t know until I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and saw a text on your phone with Birdie Whiskey in it, and my fucking world stopped. ”
Her throat thickened, but she choked down those emotions, firing off, “You hightailed it out of there pretty damn fast for a guy whose world had stopped.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” he bit out, hands splaying. “I didn’t want to hurt you more by thrusting my nightmare on you. I planned on tracking you down and apologizing after I talked to Dare on Monday morning, but your parents grabbed me before I got to see him, and then everything went to hell.”
Her hands were shaking. She wanted to believe him. She also wanted to hit him. Mostly, though, it was all too much. She wanted to disappear.
He lowered his voice, those dark eyes pinning her in place. “I never meant to hurt you. Hell, Trouble, all I wanted was to be near you, to keep you in that cabin for the entire weekend so I could get to know you better and listen to you rattle on about a hundred different things, and—”
“Thoroughly fuck me?” she bit out, her chest constricting painfully.
His lips quirked. “Honestly? Yeah, that, too. Do you blame me? We were…”
“Explosive” shot out like an accusation.
“Yes. But…” He raked a hand through his hair, stepping closer. “I fucked up, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I was trying to protect you. It was a stupid move, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”
His voice was full of regret, tugging at the parts of her that remembered how safe she’d felt in his arms, like she’d finally found where she belonged.
Which was really fucked up, given how he’d left and who he was to her family.
Dare’s fury, and Doc and Cowboy struggling to keep him from tearing Crew apart, came rushing back in vivid color.
It was all too much. Her hurt and anger roared out. “You don’t get to treat me like I matter and then disappear because you’re uncomfortable, and then come back and apologize as if you didn’t make me feel like a cheap trick.”
He stepped back, visibly stricken. “You weren’t that,” he growled. “Is that how I made you feel when we were together? Before we fell asleep?” He glowered at her. “If I did, then I really am a dick.”
Her chest felt like it was being ripped open.
“No, you didn’t, which is why it hurt so much when I woke up alone.
” Her trembling voice embarrassed her, making her angrier at the whole situation.
“I can’t do this with you right now,” she snapped.
“I don’t know what to believe, and I’m late for my yoga class. ” She turned and hurried to her car.
“I’m sorry,” he called after her.
She climbed into the car and closed the door, hoping to lock out the emotions threatening to swallow her up. She struggled against the urge to look in the rearview mirror, but she was no match for the pull to see him one last time. He was still standing in the same spot, staring after her.
He raked a hand through his hair, and his shoulders sank as he turned and walked away.
Birdie closed her eyes against the sting of tears and rested her head back, taking several deep breaths. When she opened her eyes, she stared up through the T-top, her attention drawn to the brightest star.
The stubborn star.
Her throat thickened.
Refusing to lose her shit over a guy she’d only just met, she sat up and said, “Fuck you, Universe. My heart’s been trampled on, my brother is stuck in a horrible situation, one of my besties is moving away, and my business is on the line, but if you think I’m going to fold under pressure, you’re messing with the wrong Whiskey. ”
She started her car, forcing out, “What else you got?”
HOT YOGA TOOK the edge off Birdie’s urge to throttle someone, but not the underlying ache of irritation and sadness that had caused it. It wasn’t the kind of ache that burned or snapped. It lay in wait, ready to torture her when she wasn’t otherwise distracted.
Spending time with Rebel at the Roadhouse would help. It always did.
She headed inside the rustic bar where she’d grown up having lunches and, once she was old enough, hanging out with her family and friends and, of course, the Dark Knights, since it was owned by Billie’s family, and her father, Manny Mancini, was the vice president of the motorcycle club.
Music pulsed through the floorboards. It was busy and loud for a Wednesday night, but it wasn’t overly crowded.
The unmistakable shriek of someone losing their grip on the mechanical bull rang out, and cheers exploded around them.
God, she loved this place. The mayhem might overwhelm some people, but not Birdie.
She found it comforting, even with a dozen or so Dark Knights taking notice of her with a tip of their chins.
They were her brothers’ and father’s eyes and ears.
Before her siblings had each fallen in love and paired off, they’d all hung out there a few nights each week, but now they didn’t come as often.
It was that change, and Quinn and Cutter’s coupledom, that had led to Rebel and Birdie hanging out more often.
Rebel was easy company and not overbearingly protective like so many of the men in her life.
She shrugged out of her coat, noticing a few guys checking her out. She’d showered off after class and had changed into clean yoga pants and a comfy top. She spotted Rebel sitting on a stool by the bar, his dark hair hanging messily over his forehead, leather cut covering his broad back.
She’d started to make her way over when she saw Billie weaving through the room toward her, a tray balanced on one hand, cowgirl hat perched on her long, dark hair, and a smirk on her lips that said, Don’t fuck with me or I’ll deck you.
She was such a badass. Birdie’s mind veered back to the night of the accident, when they weren’t sure Billie was going to make it, and a heaviness settled behind her ribs.
“Hey,” she said, forcing brightness into the word when Billie reached her.
Billie’s gaze flicked over her with amusement. “You’re the only woman I know who can come out of hot yoga looking like that.”
“It’s a curse.”
Billie grinned, shifting the tray. “Lucky you.”
She hadn’t seen Billie Monday when Crew had shown up at the ranch, and she chose her words carefully. “So…I was there when the guy who hit you and Dare showed up at the ranch. How are you guys holding up?”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “I always dreamed of spending my evenings keeping my husband from committing homicide.”
“Yeah. I bet.” Unlike Dare, who never let a feeling go unnoticed, Billie kept hers close to her chest, which was what worried Birdie. “But how are you, like, separate from keeping him in check?”
Billie looked away briefly. Then her lips pressed into a firm line, and she said, “I don’t know.
It’s such a hard situation. I mean, I get where your parents are coming from, but I don’t even know what memories of Eddie I lost, and I want them back, you know?
And Dare and I almost…” She shook her head, sadness rising in her eyes.
“I know,” Birdie said empathetically. “I’m sorry.”
A customer flagged Billie down from a nearby table, and she said, “Duty calls. Rebel’s at the bar.”
“I saw him. Thanks.” Birdie stood there for a minute after Billie walked away, guilt and something much messier edging in.
Seeing Billie’s pain made it easier to tell herself she’d done the right thing by not giving Crew an inch. But by the time she reached Rebel, the regret in Crew’s eyes and the things he said had that certainty fraying.
Rebel looked up as she approached, his eyes brightening. “There she is.” He spun the stool beside him, and as she climbed on, he slid his beer toward her. “You look like you need this more than I do.”
“Wingman and psychic. Awesome.” She took a drink, but thoughts of the accident were too raw, and she set the glass down. “What’s going on? Why’d you have a bad day?”
“Just family shit,” Rebel said.