Chapter 4 #2
“Friends,” she deadpanned. “Right. Is that what you’re calling your harem these days? A group of friends who will spread their legs for you?”
“Can we just . . . not do this?” I ran a hand over my face, suddenly not so hungry for a sandwich.
“Sure,” she clipped.
The air in the office went still and too quiet. The conversation in the waiting room even seemed to dull.
“Do you have to go every night?” she quipped.
“So much for dropping it,” I muttered.
This argument between Presley and me had been brewing for months.
Six, to be exact.
There was a gleam in Pres’s blue eyes, a look I knew too well. She was in a mood and whatever hold she’d kept on her tongue was about to break free.
“Are we really going to do this? Now?”
Pres’s eyes narrowed.
“How long until lunch gets here?” I asked.
“Thirty minutes.”
Without another word, I stood from my chair and walked into Dash’s office.
He was using it more and more these days, spending less and less time in the shop.
Pres did most of the office work as the manager, but with her maternity leave coming up, he was stepping in to cover while she was gone.
His desk was scattered with papers, and a cup of cold coffee sat beside his keyboard.
Presley marched into the office behind me, slamming the door so hard that the hanging photo of Draven, Nick and Dash shook against the wall.
I steadied it, taking a long look at his face while I made sure it was straight.
The photo was from not long before he’d died, and his dark eyes smiled as he stood between his sons.
There was a dusting of silver stubble on his jaw as he grinned.
Some days, I swore I could still smell him in this office, the hint of mint and Old Spice lingering to tell me he was still here.
Presley walked behind Dash’s desk and sat down in his chair, her shoulders rigid.
I stayed standing. “Say what you want to say.”
“Why are you acting like this?” She launched right in because she was pregnant and lunch was coming.
“Acting like what?”
“Like nothing has changed.” She threw up a hand. “Like life is grand. Going to The Betsy every night. Partying. Drinking. Whoring.”
It always came down to the women. I hadn’t had a woman since Cass, not that I was going to share that fact with Presley.
If I told her I’d slowed down, that I’d limited the hookups even before Cass, then Pres would ask why.
And I didn’t want to get into the why. I didn’t want to explain to my friend that I felt lost, and meaningless sex wasn’t helping.
Besides, Pres had already made up her mind about what I did at The Betsy.
She had Shaw to go home to. I had nothing but an empty house and my demons to keep me company. No, thanks. So I went to socialize and have a couple of beers. Most nights, I’d play pool and bullshit with the other regulars.
But I hadn’t touched a woman.
Not. One.
I was too preoccupied by the woman stuck in my goddamn head.
And Cass had been stuck there for far too long, ever since I’d taken her home and seen her hair spread across my white pillows.
After that night, I’d had other women come up to me, but I’d pushed them away, hoping that Firecracker would show up for round two.
Then the kidnapping had happened a couple weeks later and everything had been a fucking train wreck.
I’d been on alert, avoiding the bars in case the Warriors had decided to retaliate.
Then the barbeque.
Then Cass.
I hadn’t touched a woman since she’d told me about the baby, not only because I was terrified of sex at the moment but because no one had appealed. When I went to The Betsy every night, it wasn’t to find a hookup. Alcohol, yes. But women? Fuck no.
“What else?” I asked, my give-a-shit for this conversation dried up. I loved Pres, but I was miserable, and she was too busy being angry at me to care.
“Grow up, Leo.”
“Sure.”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know you.”
“Yeah, you do. This is who I’ve always been.” I wasn’t the relationship type. I sure as fuck wasn’t a father figure.
“No. This is not you.”
“Yes, it is. I’m doing the right thing.”
“I actually think you believe that.” Her voice gentled and her shoulders slumped. “Leo, you will regret this.”
I shook my head. “This is the right thing, Pres. She’s better off.”
“Then you really aren’t getting it. I’m so mad at you. So, so mad.” She reached her arms into the air, like she was going to strangle me from her seat. “But if you actually think Cass and your child are better off without you in their lives, then you have no idea what kind of man you are.”
“Wrong. I know exactly the kind of man I am.”
“And the fact that you don’t see what I see breaks my heart,” she whispered. Then she stood from the chair and crossed the room, returning to the main area of the office without another word.
Fuck. Presley didn’t have any clue what she was talking about. She didn’t know the things I’d done. My hands fisted at my sides and I closed my eyes, wishing we still ran the underground fights from back in the club days.
I could use a few hours in the ring, throwing punches, taking hits and getting lost in the blood and adrenaline.
The cash I used to walk away with from those fights would have been a nice bonus—I’d bet on myself and rarely lost—but it had always been about the release.
Those fights had been a place to channel my frustration with the world, my real family and whatever the fuck else was going on in my head.
Maybe after work I’d go home and pummel the heavy bag in the home gym I’d set up in my basement.
Or maybe I’d go to The Betsy and raise my first beer in a toast to Pres.
First, I had to survive lunch and finish up work. So I took a long breath and returned to the office.
Bryce looked between Presley and me, her eyebrows pulled together. “That’s it? I was expecting . . . well, something much louder.”
I shrugged and returned to my seat beside her, grateful she was here to cut the tension.
Presley wouldn’t look at me from behind her desk. As the office filled with people and lunch arrived, she didn’t so much as glance my way.
Amelia was a constant source of entertainment, crawling and toddling between adults, and as the others talked and laughed, I couldn’t eat my sandwich fast enough. The second the last bite was in my mouth, I gave the room a wave and retreated to the shop.
“Fuck.” I picked up a rag from the workbench in the paint booth and threw it against the wall. Then I took out my phone, pulling up the contact I’d saved months ago.
Firecracker.
Cass hadn’t called or texted since she’d left Clifton Forge. I’d gotten exactly what I’d asked for.
Nothing.
So why the hell did it feel so empty?
I shoved my phone away and raked a hand through my hair. Then I put in my earbuds, cranked up some music and went to work. But no amount of painting could get her off my mind.
Six months and she plagued me daily. Hourly. Was she okay? Was the baby? Did I care?
Yes.
But as long as she was safe and out of Clifton Forge, it was for the best. The Warriors had no reason to go after her and as long as they didn’t know about the baby, Cass would be forgotten.
And eventually, she’d forget about me too.
Most people did.
What Cass needed most was to move on with her life. Find a decent guy with a straitlaced nine-to-five who’d treat her like a queen. Who’d treat my kid like a miracle.
My kid.
If it was a boy, would he look like me? If it was a girl, would she have blond hair or her mother’s red? My stomach twisted. That kid wasn’t mine.
This was my choice. It was the right thing. The Warriors could bring more trouble to Cass’s life, but more than that, it was me. She was a good woman with a bright future. I was a reformed thug who’d probably screw up and break her heart.
I was the danger.
Yet she’d hugged me.
That day in her room, the way her arms had wrapped around me, so tight I could still feel them. Christ. I’d never been hugged like that. Not fucking once.
Why? Why had she hugged me? I’d been a total prick to her from the moment she’d told me she was pregnant, and she’d hugged me.
After months of replaying that day and our conversation, I still couldn’t figure out why.
I checked the doorway, making sure none of the guys were near the booth, then I hit pause on the music and pulled up my voicemail, replaying the message from this morning.
“Hey, Leo. Bruce Ponds calling from Dallas Customs. Just checking in to see if you’ve given any thought to our conversation last week. Give me a call when you get a chance.”
I listened to the message twice and with each repeat, the pit in my gut got deeper.
Last week, Bruce had called and given me a hell of a proposition to consider. He’d been a fan of my work for a while, having seen some of my stuff at a car show in Denver. When he’d called the office and asked for my number, I doubted Presley had realized it was to extend me a job offer.
Bruce ran a custom shop in Dallas with a reputation similar to the one Dash had here in Montana. One of his guys had quit, leaving a hole in their crew, and he wanted the best.
Apparently, the best was me.
The pay was comparable to what I made here.
I doubted I’d have as much flexibility as Dash gave me—I worked whenever I felt like it and he never questioned me the days when I skipped coming in altogether.
Bruce could be a pain in the ass micromanager who’d drive me insane and require me to punch a clock.
But the job was in Dallas. The opposite end of the country.
Far away from Cassandra Cline.
Cass had been gone from Clifton Forge for six months.
She’d stayed in Missoula for the holidays and rumor had it her parents had gone there for Christmas.
I was glad they’d made the trip because spending Christmas alone was depressing—that’s how I’d spent mine.
I’d declined my invitation to Dash and Bryce’s place because they’d hosted a huge get-together and there were too many happy pregnancies.
Avoiding it would only last so long if I stayed in town. Eventually, Cass would come back to visit. Her family was here too. As much as I loved Clifton Forge, my home and my history here, Cass had the same.
I couldn’t take that from her.
In this small town, it was inevitable that I’d bump into her and our kid. That was not an experience I cared to have. Just the idea made my chest squeeze too tight.
So Dallas. I was moving to Dallas. I’d all but made the decision after I’d hung up the phone with Bruce, but since my impulse decisions usually landed me in a heap of shit, I’d chosen to sit on it for a week.
My mind hadn’t changed.
I’d tell Dash and Emmett first, then I’d accept Bruce’s offer and pack my things. I’d say goodbye to Montana and start fresh.
My stomach was in a knot by the time I finished up work. This time of year, the days were short and by six o’clock, it was dark outside. I found Emmett with the current remodel project and a grinder in his hand, cutting out a rusted piece of the door panel to refabricate.
“I was going to head to Stockyard’s and grab a burger,” I said. “Want to join me?”
“Sounds good.” He tore off his face guard, setting it and the grinder aside. “I’m about done for today anyway.”
I grabbed my coat from the hook on the wall while he stripped off his coveralls, then the two of us washed up. We headed out, each driving our own rigs toward Central.
My nerves were on high, my hands shaking and my heart beating too fast when we arrived.
As soon as we sat at a tall table in the middle of the bar and restaurant, my foot started bouncing on the stool’s footrail.
Thankfully, the room was dimly lit and there was already a decent-sized dinner crew to fill the room and draw attention.
Unlike those of us who went to The Betsy, Stockyard’s regular clientele wasn’t here for the drinks and the party. There was always standing room, though at dinner, it was usually busy because their greasy burgers and salty fries were unbeatable.
“We should see if they get a game going,” Emmett said, nodding to the poker table at the back. “I’d be up to play for a while.”
“Yeah.” After my announcement, I suspected that would change.
The waitress came over and took our orders. I waited until she’d delivered our beers but before I could speak, Emmett beat me to it.
“Presley finally broke the silence, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Figured she’d rip me up one side and down the other, but she actually didn’t have much to say.”
Though the few words she’d said had slashed to the core.
Leo, you will regret this.
I’d regret being a shitty father more than I’d regret being absent. Especially if that meant giving Cass a chance, free and clear, to find a guy who’d be a good dad.
For a man who’d spent plenty of years wreaking havoc, my motto when it came to Cass was do no harm.
“Have you heard from her?”
“No.”
“You can’t ignore her forever.”
“Watch me.” I lifted my beer and chugged half the pint glass. When I set it down, I expected to see a scowl on Emmett’s face. Instead, he looked . . . amused. Was he trying not to laugh? “What?”
He pointed over my shoulder toward the door.
I turned just in time to see her walk through the door, followed by her parents.
And son of a bitch, I nearly fell off my stool.
The auburn hair caught my eye first. It draped around her face, a contrast to her soft, creamy skin. Her cheeks were flushed, a peach color the same natural shade as her lips. Cass wore a black parka but she hadn’t zipped it up and her belly stretched her green sweater.
I wasn’t sure what I expected when her eyes scanned the room, but when they landed on me, the glare she sent me sure wasn’t it. Meanwhile I stared at her with my goddamn mouth hanging open.
What was she doing here?
This was why I had to get the hell out of Montana. Because seeing her, the first thought in my brain was how beautiful she looked. Even glaring, she was breathtaking.
I was the cause of that rage and I hated myself for it. I hated that the sweet, quietly sexy woman who’d ensnared me at the bar months and months ago looked at me with ice in her veins.
I’d done that to her. I’d hardened her.
Cass lifted her chin, dismissed me, then glanced over her shoulder at her parents coming into the bar, and the three of them crossed the room to an empty table.
I didn’t exist.
I was nothing.
She might as well have shoved a knife into my side. Christ, it shouldn’t hurt but damn did it ever.
I swallowed hard and swiveled to the table, my focus entirely on my beer.
Emmett still had that shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun to watch.”
“Fuck off.”
A throat cleared from over my shoulder. “Well, hello to you too, Leo.”