17. Rogue
He’s the only one who’s ever believed in me.
I might as well be a feather for as quickly as that statement could knock me on my ass. I’ve known Skye for over two years, and I’ve never heard her talk about another man. Hell, I don’t know if she’s ever even gone on a date.
Not that it’s any of my business.
“Who’s Clint?” I ask when I find the presence of mind to open my mouth. “And where can I find him?”
“Find him?” Skye scrunches her nose. “Why the hell would you want to find him?”
That’s a good question.
And it’s one I can’t answer. At least not honestly.
“Rogue?” Soul prods when I remain silent.
Grim smacks me upside the head, and I face him. “What?”
“Fifty bucks,” he signs. “And Prez asked you a question.”
My mind reels as I mentally scramble for a response, and when I can’t come up with anything, I do the only thing I can do… I act.
I reach for Skye and manage to toss her over my shoulder before she even knows what hit her. Pushing past Grim and ignoring the heated shouting of my other brothers and the women, I stride out of the conference room and carry her through the clubhouse.
“Put me down,” Skye demands, pounding my back with tiny fists.
“No,” I bark.
“I swear, Rogue,” she pleads. “I didn’t do what you’re accusing me of doing.”
“I know.”
Instantly, her movements cease, and her body goes slack. She stops fighting me as if my admission has stolen all of her energy.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks quietly.
Without responding, I pick up my pace. Only when I reach my room and get inside do I set her on her feet. She immediately moves to the side to dart around me, but I wrap my hand around her wrist and stop her.
Electricity sparks between us, and when her nostrils flare, I know she felt it too.
“Rogue, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Let me go.”
“Is that really what you want?”
“I…” Skye swallows. “I don?—”
“Who’s Clint?” I blurt, unable to hold back any longer.
Pain flashes in her eyes, and tears well as she shudders out a sigh. “A friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes.”
“A friend with benefits?”
My cheek stings when her palm connects with flesh, and my glasses shift on my nose. Rather than react, I repeat myself.
“Is he a friend with benefits or not?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“So, yes?”
Skye throws her arms up in defeat. “No! Clint isn’t a friend with benefits. Clint isn’t anything because Clint is fucking dead!”
Shit.
“Skye, I’m sor?—”
“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t pretend you’re sorry because you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am,” I insist. “I shouldn’t have pushed like I did.”
She lifts her gaze and stares at me for a long moment. When she finally opens her mouth, I’m as surprised as I’ve been all day.
“Can we start over?” she asks.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Please.”
“I didn’t steal any money.”
“I believe you.”
“You do?”
I nod and grab her hand to tug her toward the bed. She sits without hesitation and scoots on the mattress to lean against the headboard. I sit at the foot of the bed and face her.
“Violet was pretty compelling,” I admit.
For the first time in hours, Skye smiles. “Yeah, she was.”
“So, you really didn’t know about the dyscalculia?”
She shakes her head. “No. I really didn’t. I always just thought I was stupid when it comes to anything with numbers.”
I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair. “But Clint never thought you were stupid, did he?”
Tears spring to her eyes, but she blinks them back. “Never. He always believed in me.”
“What happened to him?”
“Car accident.”
“I’m sorry, Skye.”
She shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. He was obviously someone very important to you.”
“He was my best friend.”
“Which made him your family.”
“Yeah.”
“I get it,” I say. “I’m only related to Grim, but the rest of Saints Purgatory… they’re my family, too.”
“You and Grim are related?”
“Cousins.”
“Did you two start the club together?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Not even close.”
“That’s funny?”
“To me it is.” When she stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, I grin. “I was an accountant before prospecting for the club.”
Skye’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait a sec… you were a nerd?”
I chuckle. “I still am. But I’m more badass now.”
“I can’t picture you sitting in an office or wearing a suit and tie.”
“Well, that’s exactly what I was doing until Grim got in touch with me.”
“If you and Grim didn’t start Saints Purgatory, who did?”
“Grim, Soul, and Malice.”
“Why?”
I smile sadly. “Not my story to tell.”
She huffs out a breath, but there’s no frustration in it. It seems more like a wealth of understanding. Skye hasn’t had a bad life, but it’s obvious that it wasn’t always easy.
“Do you ever miss your old life?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her tone.
“Never.” I tilt my head and study her. “Do you like being a bartender?”
Her lips curve into a grin. “I love it.”
“You’re fucking amazing at it.”
“Thanks.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she yawns. “Someday, I’d like to be more involved in running a bar, maybe even own one. But for now, bartending keeps me happy.”
The thought of her leaving to work somewhere else fills my soul with dread. I like Skye… have since the moment I first saw her. For over two years, I’ve kept a wall between us because of my position over her, but I’m beginning to wonder if that was a mistake.
Maybe if I’d actually gotten to know her, I wouldn’t have so easily believed she was a thief.
“You’d be great at that,” I reply grudgingly.
“I think so.”
Her tone doesn’t hold any cockiness. Skye’s just confident, in her element when it comes to anything bar related. Well, anything except the counting money aspect. She opens her mouth to continue but yawns instead.
“You’re tired.”
She nods. “If it’s okay, I think I’ll see if Jez can drive me home.” Her smirk comes slowly. “Unless, of course, you still need to question me.”
I shake my head. “No, no more questions. Not now anyway.”
Skye moves to the edge of the mattress and plants her feet on the floor. “I still have a job, right?” she asks over her shoulder.
“Of course.” When she stands, I grab her arm to stop her from walking away. “I’ll take you home.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m sure Jez won?—”
“I’ll take you,” I repeat. “I want to.”