Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
GOOSE
Bullet’s eyes widen at my demand to leave. I can tell he’s surprised. I would be too. I thought this was my life, that I would stay here until the day I died, but shit changes, and obviously, this isn’t what I want anymore.
Call it bruised ego or pride, I don’t know, but when Bullet speaks, I want to tell him to fuck right off, to kick rocks, and eat a bag of dicks all at the same time. I don’t. Instead, my chin dips and my gaze flicks down to my feet.
“Don’t make a hasty decision. Ivy might come around.”
Lifting my head, I cross my arms over my chest and snort. “No, he won’t. And after the year I’ve had, I’m ready to cut bait and run. I need a fucking breather.” It’s not a lie. It’s not me trying to get out of work or anything else. It’s just the fucking truth of it all.
Bullet nods his head a couple of times. I can tell he doesn’t like any of this, but I also don’t give a fuck. When he speaks again, I can tell he is torn. He’s torn between being my friend and my president.
“You’re my treasurer, Goose. I don’t see how I can just let you walk away.”
Moving toward the desk, I bend slightly and place my palms on the desk as my gaze focuses on his. “I don’t give a fuck, Bullet. Give it to someone else.”
“Goose.” His voice is soft and almost sad.
“Give it to someone else,” I grind out. “I don’t want it.”
I don’t want to hear his sadness. I don’t give a fuck about it. I want to get the hell out of here. When I was voted in as treasurer, I thought it was so fucking great. I strutted around like a goddamn peacock for weeks.
Now it seems like nothing but a burden.
I don’t want any part of it. I want away from this clubhouse and out of Thunder Rock as soon as humanly fucking possible. Pushing off the desk, I stand tall and at attention before I take a step backward.
“I trust you, Goose.”
“I can’t be near Ivy.”
And it’s the fucking truth of it. I don’t want to be anywhere near that bastard.
If I see him again, I’m really not sure how that’s going to play out.
I want to follow the rules and not be invested in the situation, but at the same time, I love Cidney.
He took that away from me, and now she’s fucking someone else.
God.
The thought of another man touching her makes me want to murder someone, anyone, really. I don’t think I would give a fuck who I killed at this point. A body would be a body, and every body would remind me of Ivy.
“You can nomad to Wilmington. It’s close enough, but also far enough away.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t feel like it’s far enough. I want to be all the way on the other side of the country. I don’t tell him that, though, as much as I want to. Instead, I dip my chin in a single nod.
“I’ll take it.”
He could have offered me anything, and I would have taken it at this point. I don’t tell him that. Bullet dips his chin and clears his throat. He leans back in his chair, his eyes finding mine.
“And you’ll come back.”
I start to tell him that I won’t be back, not fucking ever, but I decide against it. I don’t know the future, and to make a claim like that is really stupid.
Plus, Maverick and my niece and nephew are here, so it would be stupid to say I’ll never be back, because I will at some point, but maybe not in the club sense. So I don’t, even if I want to. And I really want to, because I don’t plan on ever coming back to Thunder Rock in a club member capacity.
“Pick someone to be the treasurer while I’m away. I don’t mind,” I say. I don’t fucking care, not really.
I have no fucking plans ever to be in this clubhouse again after I pack my shit and head to Wilmington. I’ll come to visit the kids, to visit my brother and Zadie, but even then, it’s going to be a good goddamn while.
Bullet dips his head, then writes something down on the sheet of paper in front of him. I don’t ask what he’s writing. I don’t care too much. I just want him to agree to what I’m asking and let me get gone.
“We have a shipment going out in that direction. You and Viking can go together, and then you can stay.”
“Sounds good,” I state. “When do we leave?”
“In about two hours. I had someone else scheduled, but you can go.”
Jerking my chin, I spin on my heels and walk toward the door.
I need to pack my shit and load up my bike.
Bullet calls out my name as I reach for the handle of the office door.
Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep breath and hold it for a moment.
I don’t want this to be a big thing, but he’s been my friend and my brother for nearly as long as my own flesh and blood.
Pausing, I turn my head and look back over my shoulder, letting out the breath in a long exhale as he speaks.
“It’s not the end of the fucking world, Goose. Sometimes, shit just isn’t meant to be.”
I know he’s talking about Cidney, and I could agree with him, but my heart won’t let me. She was meant to be, meant to be mine. Fucking made for me. I know it deep in my marrow, and nothing will or could convince me otherwise. So instead of saying anything, I jerk my chin in his direction.
“I’ll miss you.”
The words come out without me even thinking about them, because that is the fucking truth.
I will miss Bullet. He’s one of my oldest friends, best friends, and my boss.
We’ve spent every single day together since I was a teenager.
I’m going to miss the hell out of him. And my brother. The whole club, really.
Sure, I’m pissed at Ivy, but he isn’t the Vicious Reapers.
There is so much more to our club than its members.
As much as I want to say that all of this is because of Ivy, it’s not.
I had thoughts of leaving and branching out on my own before this even happened with him, before Cidney.
This is just the straw that broke the camel’s back.
It’s time for me to venture out. To do something different.
Maverick is settled with a wife and kids.
The others are all settling down as well.
I won’t ever be able to be that way. I won’t be able to have Cidney and the life I imagined with her, and I sure as fuck cannot watch her find it with someone else.
Walking into my bedroom, I start to pack my bag when I realize that not everything I own is going to fit inside. But then I wonder if I really need half the shit I own. I’m standing, looking at the folded clothes on my bed, wondering what to keep and what to leave, when there is a knock on my door.
“C’mon in,” I call out. I don’t know who I expect to see walk through my doorway, but it’s not Maverick. “What are you doing here?” I demand.
He grunts, but I can see the unhappiness clearly written on his face as he begins to speak.
Every word is said with a hint of betrayal in his voice.
I’ve done something that changes everything between us, and he’s pissed about it.
The irony of that is not lost on me, considering he did the same to me not long ago.
“Bullet told me you’re leaving. That you’re going nomad, and you didn’t tell me a goddamn thing.”
He’s pissed, and I don’t blame him, because if the tables were turned, I would be losing my fucking mind, too. I did lose my mind when he started seeing Zadie and wanted to change our dynamic. Now it’s my turn, and unfortunately, he’s going to have to deal with it just like I did.
“I can’t stay here.”
CIDNEY
Opening my eyes, I glance around the room and wince. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. Reaching for the sheets, I tug them up my body a little higher. They slide across my skin, and I realize I’m naked, too.
Definitely not my imagination.
Turning my head slightly, I look at the man beside me. My new boss has the sheets up to his waist, he’s bare-chested, and his eyes are closed as he sleeps. At least I think he sleeps, but then he turns his head, one eye opening and then the other as his lips twitch into a small smile.
A sad smile.
“Is this weird?” I ask.
He chuckles, then clears his throat. “Only if we make it weird.”
I press my lips together as my gaze searches his. He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he reaches out to cup my cheek. His thumb slides along my bottom lip, and the memories of last night come back, rushing through me.
It was good.
Not as amazing as it is with Goose, but it was good with George. And George is safe. He’s a doctor, he’s got his own home, he’s not part of a motorcycle club, he’s not involved with Justin, and he doesn’t have to ask anyone’s permission to date me.
This is who I should be with.
Too bad this isn’t who I want.
But I don’t say that, and I can tell I’m not who he wants, either. I don’t ask him who he’s hiding or running from. It doesn’t matter. We’re here together, and maybe we can distract one another for a while. We can be one another’s safety.
“I’m not going to ask you about Trent Fairfax. I know that’s who you were seeing,” he states. I open my mouth to ask him how, but then decide it doesn’t matter.
I’ve never jumped from one man to another in my life. I wasn’t a teenager who needed to have a boyfriend or anything, but I’ve had three relationships of some kind in just a matter of weeks. I need to breathe and regroup.
“And I won’t ask you who hurt you, either,” I say.
His lips curve up into a little bit bigger of a smile, his gaze searching mine. “Yeah,” he exhales.
“I thought this was only for last night?” I ask.
His hand glides around to the back of my neck, and he gently grasps me there, his palm warm against my skin.
He massages me slightly, his gaze searching mine for a long moment in silence.
I don’t know what he’s thinking, and the longer we stay this way, the more I wonder if he’s regretting it completely.
“If you’d like, we can see where it goes. I know you won’t love me, and I can’t love you, either, but maybe we can comfort one another?”
If someone had said that to me a year ago, I would have told them, thanks but no thanks. Today, though, after the last few months I’ve had, I’m more than fine with that arrangement. In fact, I think it might be the smartest and most appealing thing he could offer me.
“That sounds nice,” I reply.
He leans forward, his lips hovering above mine, and then he presses them to mine in a chaste kiss. Sealing our choice with a kiss. It’s probably a rash decision for me, especially since I haven’t even spoken to Goose, but he took his things, left my apartment, and hasn’t even tried to contact me.
I don’t need him to spell it out for me, and I’m not going to hunt him down to hear the words, either. He’s done. He’s made it clear enough for me. I don’t need it spelled out any clearer than it already is.
And that’s that.
I really hope my heart can get the memo, and soon.