Chapter 22
Elizabeth
The glass of the train window has grown warm where my forehead leans against it, the world outside rushing by in a blur.
I barely notice, the only image I see is the look on Angel’s face before he rode off on his bike.
He didn’t even say anything, and I haven’t heard from him since.
The last words I said to him echo in my mind…
If you’re really saying that you can’t, or won’t, accept Donovan… we’re done.
Last night, the thought of going back to the guest room where we’d spent the previous night sleeping together was too much, his scent would still linger there. Instead, I spent the night cuddled up to Donovan on the sofa; both of us crying, too heartbroken to talk about it.
Breakfast had been a somber affair, which made me even more upset for Donovan.
After coming out to Sofía and Miguel, he should have spent his morning hugging them, laughing with them, telling them about his boyfriend.
Instead, we were silent, our eyes red from crying.
Sofía fussed about the kitchen, I imagine trying to distract herself from her own hurt and disappointment in Angel; he’d always said she was worried he’d turn out like his father… maybe she was right after all.
It won’t be long till I’m back in Tynerston, and the only place I have to go is the clubhouse.
I’m not sure what to expect, I’m hoping he just needed time to process.
That the ride home will have helped him see sense, we can talk, then he can talk to Donovan, and we’ll all be okay.
But I know the universe doesn’t always give us best case scenarios.
When I open the door to the clubhouse, I feel heavy, as though a lead weight is sitting in my stomach. The atmosphere seems quiet, tense. The guys are sitting around a table eating lunch; Tank, Slim, and Pretty Boy all with a beer, while Angel nurses a whiskey.
“Hey,” I make my way closer, the guys giving me soft smiles, but Angel doesn’t even lift his eyes. “Diablo, please can I talk to you?”
He downs his drink and slams the glass on the table, before standing and facing me, coldness in his eyes.
“Nah, I’ve got work.”
He walks past me as though I’m nothing, as though the last couple of months never happened. The slam of the door makes me jump, releasing one of the tears that had already formed in my eyes. Shit. I thought I’d cried everything I had already.
“You okay?” Tank asks.
“Um…” I swallow a few times, trying to clear the lump in my throat. “How much do you know? ”
“We know you were together,” Tank says gently, “well, we knew from the start… but he just told us you’ve had a fight, that it’s over.”
“He said it’s over?” I ask.
My heart sinks, the hope I had that he’d come around shattering to pieces. I wipe the tears on my cheek and blink my eyes to clear any new ones.
“Yeah,” Pretty Boy says, “sorry, darlin’.”
More tears threaten to escape, so I look away from them, trying to compose myself.
“I… um… I guess I’m here to get my stuff then,” I say, trying to sound matter of fact, but knowing my voice betrays me.
“You don’t have to,” Pretty Boy says, “you’re welcome to stay.”
Tank nods. “Yeah, where are you gonna go?”
They’re right, I have nowhere to go. But I can’t stay here with him, seeing that cold look in his eyes. This feels like three years ago all over again. Me, alone, all my belongings fitting into a suitcase and a couple of boxes, with nowhere to live...
“I’m not sure yet, I’ll figure something out,” I say, “thank you for the offer, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea to stay.”
I head to the stairs, but I’m stopped by a voice I rarely hear.
“Wait,” Slim says, as he walks towards me. “Here.” He’s holding out a key.
“What’s that for?”
“You can come and stay with me until you figure this shit out with Diablo.”
“Slim, I can’t—”
“I won’t take no for an answer. I don’t know what you fought about, but I know you’ll sort this out. And if you don’t, at least stay with me until you find someplace else, preferably not Midtown Apartments.”
I hate having to rely on someone else, but this is my best option. I don’t have the money for a hotel, or even a motel, and I definitely can’t stay here.
“Thank you,” I say, tears fully rolling down my face.
And more surprising than him talking to me, he pulls me into a hug. Even though his physique lives up to his nickname, he feels strong, and I let myself be held by him as I cry into his shoulder.
When I’ve stopped crying and lean out of the hug, he gently wipes some tears from my face.
“Just make sure you get a copy made, okay?” he chuckles as I take the key.
“I will, thanks.”
I’m able to give him a small smile, which is something at least.
Angel was nowhere to be seen when I left the clubhouse, and even though I had my suitcase and backpack, I opted to walk instead of accepting a lift from one of the guys.
By the time I got to Slim’s place, I was exhausted.
Not sleeping last night has really taken its toll on me, even though I’m used to surviving on very little sleep.
I’m curled up on a mattress on the floor in Slim’s spare room; I hadn’t gotten around to decorating this one yet, but I figure it will make a good distraction project while I’m here.
As tired as I am, sleep eludes me. I’m replaying the last couple of months in my head, arguing with myself that I should have seen this coming, I should never have assumed that Angel was different to how I first imagined.
That I shouldn’t have let myself fall for him until I knew for sure he wasn’t a homophobic piece of shit.
I’d tried to work him out, purposefully choosing films and TV shows with LGBTQ+ characters, trying to gauge what he thought of them.
Not once had he said anything negative, in fact, he’d been so positive about so many of the stories and characters that I was sure that when Donovan came out that it would be okay.
Would he be shocked? Of course, and I could almost forgive him needing some time to process; but this, the way he’s handled it, absolute deal-breaker.
It doesn’t make losing him any less painful though.
I feel like I’m trapped in one of those romance dramas myself, the part right after the break-up when the main character is realizing that if they had known their last kiss was going to be their last, they would have never let it end.
And they’d have used the last time they had sex to show them how much they loved them.
I can’t help but laugh at the irony of our last time, Angel literally spanking me and punishing me.
Our last time together was the most aggressive of all of our sexual encounters, but maybe that’s the way it was supposed to end.
The thought of our last time being soft and gentle, like the times he’d whisper how perfect I am, how much he loves me, and that I’m his…
well, that might just break my heart even more.
Diablo
No matter how much I try to focus on work, her words keep running through my head… If you’re really saying that you can’t, or won’t, accept Donovan… we’re done .
The fact that she could end things with me so easily, cut me out of her life like that, I feel a rage that I haven’t felt in a long time.
I can’t believe I let myself get pussy whipped.
I was revolving my entire fucking life around her, one hundred percent in, and the fact that she could just break it off so easily, I’m fucking livid.
I’ve already messaged Carter and asked for a spot on tonight’s roster; I won’t be able to fuck, so I might as well use this rage to earn some fucking money. Shit, if I win, maybe I’ll grow my balls back and be down to fuck another girl… get Elizabeth out of my head once and for all.
I sense movement across the yard and glance up from behind the bike I’m working on, knowing I’ll be hidden from view. There she is, walking across the yard, but I notice she’s wheeling her suitcase behind her, she’s taking everything she owns. Where the fuck is she going?
I told the guys to tell her to stay, knowing she has nowhere to go.
I expect her to go to the car, hoping one of the guys has at least offered to put her up in a hotel or something, I said I’d pay for it.
But no, she heads straight for the gate and Walrus opens it without a word.
What the fuck? As soon as the gate closes, I head straight to the clubhouse, but I’m stopped by the guys coming around the corner.
Slim quickly lifts his hands to calm me, “Hold on, don’t go mental, she’s staying with me.”
I try to ignore the shoot of jealousy that stops my breath, knowing that Slim will be living with my girl, and I won’t be. But I guess she’s not my girl anymore.
“Why the fuck aren’t you driving her there then?” I shout.
Slim shrugs. “She’s stubborn, bro.”
He’s not wrong either… Shit, Elizabeth is still going to be the fucking death of me .
“I know she’s stubborn, but you need to take her to college and pick her up,” I say, knowing they can take shifts. “And one of you needs to take her to work and pick her up too.”
They nod.
“I’m fucking serious. If I find out she’s taking the bus anywhere I’ll take you to the Pit myself, even you Tank, and don’t think I fucking won’t.”
“Okay, calm down,” Tank says, “we’ll look out for her, brother.”
I know she’ll be safe at Slim’s on her own; the guy was in the fucking military; he’s probably got more security around his house than we do at the club.
And as much as I wouldn’t trust that pendejo Brian with my little toe, I know she’ll be safe at the diner…
it’s the time in between that worries me.
“Why are you talking about the Pit anyway?” Pretty Boy asks.
“Carter’s put me on the list for tonight.”
“Shit,” Pretty Boy mutters, while Tank and Slim keep quiet.