Chapter 12
TWELVE
SOFEE
Multiple voices sound from the bar as I step down the last stair and enter the room. Li is sitting with Tatum and Max at one of the tables, laughing at some story Max is telling. Glancing around the room, I see that nearly everyone is here this evening. Tanner is hovering close to Max, like always. Ace and Owen are sitting at the bar, while Cooper stands on the other side, playing bartender this evening. A few locals, who use this place as their regular watering hole, are scattered throughout the bar as well. The only absentees are Hayden and Declan. I assume Hayden is probably still in the shop tinkering with my car. As for Declan, his absence doesn't surprise me.
The way he avoided me after what happened behind the bar, I think it’s safe to say he’ll be avoiding me for the rest of my life after what happened earlier this morning. Which is just as well, I don’t really care to see him either.
The same feeling of shame I’ve had all day washes over me anew, and I try to shove it back down. I keep telling myself what I did wasn’t something to be ashamed of. Tempting a man who seems to hate me to the point of breaking was supposed to make me feel powerful. For once in my life, I’d felt desirable as I stripped into nothing but his vest while the door was wide open. I was trying to take my sexuality into my own hands by letting him see me in that way. Allowing him to degrade and dominate me the way I’ve always craved was supposed to be freeing. Cleansing.
So why do I feel so fucking dirty now?
The logical part of me says it’s because I let a man I hate touch me in such an intimate way without so much as a first date. That societal voice that has been drilled into my skull from a young age tells me I’m disgusting for letting a man who holds no respect for me see me completely exposed. It's the collective voices of those who have sexually repressed women for thousands of years. They’re calling me a slut for not only enjoying what happened this morning but also begging for more. They call me a dirty whore, but not in the way Declan did.
When Declan did it, I liked the way it felt, as if it was some kind of dark praise I hadn’t realized I needed until he uttered the words. Somehow, when he called me a slut, it made pride expand in my chest, not shame. In truth, I know I'm far from being the epitome of sexual prowess, but when he used those words that suggested otherwise, it felt like he was laying claim to his slut.
But he made his intentions very clear that I am not now, nor will I ever be, his anything. And I think no matter what those infernal inner voices scream at me, my feeling of being dirty and used up has nothing to do with how I tried to embrace my own sexuality, and everything to do with Declan's actions after it was over.
The way he ran out of my room after giving me the best orgasm of my life will forever be etched in my memory. He left me there, ravaged and used up, practically begging him to claim me as his. But without so much as a second fucking glance, he bolted from the room, slamming the door on any possibility of a future between us, shattering the notion that he ever felt anything but animosity toward me.
When he first entered the room, I could have sworn I saw all my emotions reflected in his violet eyes. But I must have been mistaken. Perhaps my brain played a cruel trick on me, leading me to believe I saw a man just as far lost in lust as I was. But in reality, I was seeing a man who wanted to do nothing more than humiliate me. And mortify me he did.
Even though there was no one around to witness my humiliation, I still felt every second of it. This morning was the first time in my entire life that I took the reins of my own sexuality, and Declan proved in less than twenty minutes that I should have never taken the risk. He walked into that room and made me believe that I was feminine sexual beauty incarnate, only to run out when I was at my most vulnerable. And now I’m posed with the question of whether he did it all on purpose.
Was the way he spoke to me, how he bent me to his will, all a ploy to affirm his hatred of me? I never really assumed that bad people in this world were one hundred percent compassionless. I’ve always believed there is both good and bad in everyone, even Declan. I thought he was a dick on the outside but I held onto the hope that there was still some goodness deep down within him. But now? After what happened, I’m leaning more toward the side that pegs him as nothing but cruel.
But even as I think about the savagery he’s shown me, there’s a small part of me that whispers to keep searching. Keep looking for that kernel of light that resides within everyone. That small ember of goodness I’ve only seen in his eyes the day of the fire. The day he ran into my blazing inferno of a house in search of me. That spark of flame just needs tending to; I know it’s there within him. I just can't seem to figure out why he feels the need to hide it the way he does.
Working in the medical field, I have witnessed people at their lowest points. Some are so downtrodden they believe there is only one way out. Therefore, I can recognize a broken man when I see one, and the more I think about it, the more I see Declan fitting that description. It doesn’t take a psychologist to see that there’s more to this man than meets the eye.
Something from his past must have made him this way toward me. But the likelihood of me ever figuring it out is slim to none. I can’t have a single conversation with him that doesn’t end in a fight. And even if he were open to talking to me about it, the way I feel right now has me wanting to hide far away from him. I know running into him now will only serve to mortify me further, so I think avoiding him is the best course of action.
Tonight is my last shift of the week, and I’ll have the next three days off. This will be the perfect opportunity to look for a new place to live. I can’t stand the shame that washes over me every time I think about the man who lives across the hall. My conflicting feelings are becoming harder and harder to ignore. Do I despise him, or do I want him to use me in every carnal way one person could use another? It’s all too much, and I need to leave before it becomes more than I can bear.
I glance at my brother. He sits surrounded by his family, laughing and drinking. It’s easy to see how well he fits into this corner of the world he’s created for himself. It is glaringly obvious that this is his place and not mine. Not that I ever wanted it to be mine; I was always content with the way things were. Back when I had my life and he had his.
But now it’s all mixed up, and with every passing day, it gets harder and harder to separate the two. I’m forced to watch his happily ever after and then question why I don’t have mine yet.
We’re told to do the right thing, follow the correct path, act for the greater good, and all good things will return to us. Well, I call bullshit. I’ve been on the right path my whole fucking life and I’ve done all the things that I was supposed to do. Get a good education, work a job that makes a difference, and be responsible for yourself and others. And where has it all gotten me?
All I have to show for a lifetime of standing firmly on the correct side of morality is a pile of burnt rubble and a heart that aches for the wrong man.
Ripping my gaze away from Liam and his family, I step away from the stairs and walk toward the front door. I have to be at work in less than an hour, so I need to see if Hayden has made any progress with my car. I just have my hand on the door handle when I hear my name being called.
“Hey, Sof, wait up.”
I turn my head to see Max standing up from her seat and stepping away from the table. Furrowing my brows, I pause and wait for her to catch up to me. She has an easy smile on her lips today. I smother a snort as I look at her bright outfit of the day. Neon yellow tank top, hot pink short shorts, and mint green flip-flops. Coupled with her dark pixie cut and vibrant eyeshadow, she looks more like she belongs at a rave than a biker bar.
Max and I met after I moved into the clubhouse. She and Tatum just showed up on my doorstep one evening with arms full of girly shit proclaiming we were friends now. Even after I protested, they still pushed past me and forced that friendship onto me. Since then, both of them have become tentative friends of mine, even though I’ve tried to keep them at a distance.
I don’t know why I do it, but I’ve always kept people at arm's length. If it weren't for Miles forcing his friendship on me as well, I probably wouldn’t even be able to call him my friend. On some level, I think it’s easier not to let people get too close. That way, when they get tired of me, it’s not so hard when they eventually leave.
Honestly, I could probably attribute it to the abandonment issues my loving father left me with. He up and left my mother high and dry one day with four kids to raise and not a penny to do it with. Even though I understand that I can’t blame all my issues on the deadbeat, it feels nice to be able to point a finger at someone.
When Max catches up to me, we push out the front doors together. The hot June sun pelts me as soon as we step out, almost taking my breath away. A thin sheen of sweat coats my skin instantly, making me dread the drive to work with no A/C. I glance toward my walking partner as she tilts her head up toward the sky. Her porcelain skin almost seems to glow under the sun’s harsh rays. She says nothing as she keeps her eyes closed with a small smile creasing her lips.
Maybe it’s because I’m in such a foul mood, but her easy happiness makes me want to wipe that smile off her face. Which isn’t fair of me. Just because I’m sulking doesn't mean everyone else needs to have the same predisposition.
I drag in a deep breath before speaking. “What’s up?” I ask.
Max flutters her long eyelashes before looking at me, keeping that same happy little grin on her lips. “So you and Declan, huh?” she chirps.
Immediately, my feet stop moving, forcing both of us to a screeching halt. I give all my attention to the thin little pixie standing next to me. “What?” I breathe. Suddenly, I’m sweating for a different reason than the heat.
She chuckles before starting to walk again. I rush to catch up with her as she starts speaking. “Cooper heard you guys this morning,” she sings. My mouth drops open and closes just as quickly when I realize I have nothing to say. “I asked him to teach me how to cook, and he talks a lot when he’s in the kitchen. That, and we’ve kind of been bonding and shit. He’s become like the annoying big brother I never asked for.” She rolls her eyes, but a coy smile widens her lips. “Anyway, this morning you and Declan came up.” She shrugs.
I adjust the bag on my shoulder before finally finding my voice. “Does anyone else know?” I don’t know why the idea of any of the others knowing bothers me, but it does. I don’t even know what to call Declan and me, so it seems like an invasion of privacy to have others privy to our relationship status.
I breathe a sigh of relief when she shakes her head. “No, and we won’t say anything either. Not like it was hard to tell that something more was going on between you two anyway. Tatum told me about her suspicions a long time ago.”
We’re almost at the shop entrance now, and I can see Hayden inside with his nose in my car's engine. I squint at Max and stop walking again. She stops too, fully facing me now. “What do you mean? There has never been anything between us until this morning,” I argue.
“Pft,” she scoffs. “Okay, if that’s the way you wanna play it.” She puts her hands up on either side of her head and makes those ridiculous finger quotes as she mocks me. “ There has never been anything between me and Declan, even though the intense sexual chemistry between us is suffocating for the rest of the group. There is no way we’re fucking even though when he’s in the room I can’t keep my pretty brown eyes off him. ” Her voice is light in a mocking way before she starts laughing.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I snap, defending myself. “Tanner looks at you all the time, but that doesn’t mean you two are fucking.”
She quirks an eyebrow at me. “Who says we aren’t?” she teases.
“Are you?” I blurt but then I reel myself back in with a shake of my head. That is none of my business. Humor dances on her lips, but she says nothing. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you and Tanner had moved your relationship further along,” I mumble.
She giggles. “You don’t have to be in a relationship to fuck someone, Sofee. That’s the beauty of our day and age. Casual sex may still come with a stigma, but it’s not as prominent anymore. Besides, I don’t care if people think I’m a floozy. I can have fun with whomever I feel like having fun with. Not all of us choose to punish ourselves for enjoying the carnal wonders a good orgasm offers.”
I frown at her, becoming increasingly irritated even though what she’s saying is ringing a familiar bell in my subconscious. Staying silent, I stare down at the young woman who is making too much sense.
“You can mean mug me all you’d like. It doesn’t change the fact that you have the hots for Declan and he for you.” She grins at me while crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes alight with mischief. “So…” She prods further.
I look at her in bewilderment. “So … What?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes and puffs another laugh. “How was it? Are you two a thing now? When are you going to tell the others?”
Her questions jar me. I shake my head and hold my hands out to make her stop talking. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Max. Nothing happened, so there is nothing to tell anyone. Declan and I will never be a thing. Period,” I bite out and start walking again, this time at a faster pace, hoping to discourage my company from following me.
But it seems like some space is the last thing I’m going to get from this girl as she rushes to catch up with me, her flip-flops snapping loudly against the pavement. She grabs my arm and forces me to stop and face her. I take a deep breath to calm my inner bitch before she comes roaring to the surface.
“Why not?” she asks, sounding far more innocent than she is.
At this point, I’ve had it. I clench my fists to my sides before deepening my scowl at the nosy woman in front of me. “ Why not? ” I repeat sourly, and she nods. “You want a list or just the highlights?” I ask, but don’t give her time to answer. “Let's see, there’s the fact that he is an absolute asshole to me all the time. He talks to me like I’m fucking stupid. Oh yeah, and he clearly hates me enough to run out on me like he was disgusted with himself only seconds after giving me the best orgasm I’ve ever had. And now I can’t even think about seeing him again without my brain telling me I should be ashamed for letting him see me in such a vulnerable state in the first place.”
I raise my tone an octave and wag my finger at nobody. “ Good girls don’t act like whores and let random men touch their flowers. Look what happens when you stray from the path of righteousness. You’re getting exactly what you deserve for putting yourself out there like a tramp, ” I recite the words that have been rolling through my mind all day, mocking my own psyche. “I’m a stupid pathetic female who should have stayed in her place and none of this would have happened. But no, Sofee Santos is an educated fucking idiot for thinking he may have felt anything for me other than discontent.” I’m panting by the time I finish listing the main reasons. “There. Are those good enough reasons why Declan and I will never happen, or do you want more?” I hate the way it hurts my heart to say those words.
Max’s face softens, and she drops her hands as she steps closer to me. I know she’s about to try to comfort me, but I don’t want her consolation. I back away before skirting around her toward my car. Hayden’s heavy metal music is so loud, and he’s still tinkering under the hood, so I know he has heard none of this mortifying conversation. Thank fuck.
Just when I think I’m out of reach, she grabs my arm again, halting my steps once more. “Hey,” she says softly, making my eyes burn with unexpressed emotion. I refuse to look at her as she speaks again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” she pauses before grabbing my other arm and forcing me to look at her. The sympathy shimmering in her honey-colored eyes makes me want to look away. I don’t want her sympathy. I deserve to feel ashamed.
I shake my head and shrug off her touch. “There is no reason for you to be sorry. I’m the one who thought it was a good idea to let a man I hate touch me. My only excuse is that I thought maybe he might have felt a fraction of what I was feeling. It’s my fault for thinking he was attracted to me in any way.” I wince at the bitterness dripping from my words.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’ve shared entirely too much with her, and all I want to do is leave this conversation. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” I tighten my lips in a small smile before continuing. “You didn’t deserve for me to dump on you like that.”
Max cocks her head to the side and studies me. “You want some honesty?” she asks, and at my tentative nod, continues. “I saw you inside earlier when you were by the stairs and thought nobody noticed you,” she says as she eyes me with all seriousness. “I could tell something was up, and you needed to get some shit off your chest. But I also know you’re the queen of suffering in silence while keeping your emotions bottled up.” Her words tug at something in my chest, forcing me to take a look inside myself. “I was pushing you on purpose, babe.” Her smile is sly. “You needed to release whatever was riding you, and you needed to do it with someone who wouldn’t take it personally.” She shrugs as if it were all obvious. “And honestly, I’m glad you spewed to me so we can work on changing that fucked up view you have of yourself and that internalized misogyny. You’re not stupid, a whore, or a tramp. And you should never apologize for the way you feel.”
She smiles before pulling me in for a hug. I allow her to embrace me, and soon my arms are wrapped around her slender torso. Sinking into her hug, I feel some of my internalized guilt dissipate. When she pulls away, I feel a little lighter. It’s moments like this that I'm grateful to have people like her in my life. Even though our friendship is still new, it's comforting to know she cares for me. I understand I'm not the easiest person to get along with, so her efforts to help me open up mean more to me than she’ll ever realize.
“I’m not going to pretend to know how you’re feeling,” she says quietly. “I’m not even going to act like I know why Declan is an ass to you. All I can tell you is what I see.” She turns serious as I wait for her to continue. “And what I see is a man paying a whole lot of attention to a woman he says he can’t stand. I see the sadness in his eyes mixed with desperation when he looks at you. I don’t know much about Declan’s past, but if I were to guess, I would say he’s pushing you away for a reason.”
It seems Declan and you have a lot in common when it comes to pushing people away. My inner voice chides.
Max’s words strike a familiar chord within me. It’s not as if I’ve never thought of it like that. I don’t know anything about Declan's past, but it doesn’t take an observant person to realize something must have made him as bitter as he is. Whether it’s something specific in his past that’s made him hate all women, or just me, I’m not sure.
Max releases my shoulders and steps out of my space. “I know your go-to move is to push people away before they can disappoint you. But I don’t think you should give up just yet.” Her words surprise me. Am I really so transparent? “But ultimately, it’s up to you to decide if you want to know why he chooses to push you away when it’s glaringly obvious that he wants you as much as you want him.” She squeezes my hands within hers with a reassuring smile on her lips. “And if he breaks your heart, just remember that Tatum and I are waiting in the background with ice cream and guns.”
I can't stop the wet snorted laugh from bubbling up at her comment. For the first time all day, my lips pull into a genuine smile. This whole time I’ve resided at the clubhouse, I’ve never really felt as though I belonged here. I always felt like an outsider looking in on this incredible family my brother has surrounded himself with. But Max has proved me wrong today by making me feel like I actually have people here willing to go to war for me.
With those parting words, she steps past me and walks back toward the clubhouse. I watch her saunter across the parking lot until she’s pushing past the doors. After she disappears inside, I still stand fixated in the same spot, staring after her.
As much as I hate to admit it, she isn’t wrong. It is my decision if I want to explore any of this with Declan. Do I want to push him away like he seems to want, or should I try getting him to open up to me and get to the real root of this problem he seems to have with me? Do I even have the strength to decide, or is it easier to just run away?
I don’t know if I can overcome the voices in my head telling me that his reasons for hating me are valid. The same voices shame me for throwing myself at him. Even if I manage to silence them, there's no guarantee that he would even want to open up to me. The chances of him sharing anything about his past are slim at best.
So, is it worth the inevitable heartbreak?
Is Declan worth all of this uncertainty? This whole situation has only highlighted my own insecurities so much that I can’t ignore them anymore. Thinking about how much I liked the demeaning way he treated me not only floods me with desire, but also uneasiness. Do I really want to see if there is any type of relationship to be had if it causes my view of myself to become so disgraced? And the answer to that question seems impossible to find when he has given me no reason at all to make him worth it.
A glare from a windshield flashes across my eyes, drawing my attention to a blacked-out Audi pulling into the parking lot. The windshield is tinted so darkly that I have no hope of seeing who’s inside. Frowning, I watch the dark polished car find a parking spot by the front entrance. The car is much more expensive than anything I’ve ever been in, even with the huge dent in the hood devaluing it somewhat.
I watch with curiosity as the passenger door opens. Then all the blood drains from my face as the man I can’t get out of my mind steps out of the darkened interior.
Declan's dark eyes instantly lock onto me as he stands to his full height as if he knew exactly where I was before stepping out of the car. The sight of him in his usual dark outfit piques all of my interest. As I stand here, I have to force my feet to remain still when all they want to do is walk toward him. Something about this man has always drawn me in, even when my better judgment tells me to keep my distance.
The passenger side window rolls down as if the driver of the car is trying to speak with him. But he ignores the driver and keeps his molten gaze fixed on mine as if he is also waiting for the answer to my unspoken question.
Am I going to see this dark curiosity through, or am I going to ignore every zap of awareness coursing through my being every time I look at him?