Chapter 2
SUNDAY
One week earlier
Iwonder if my heart will ever be less heavy. I can’t shake the pain; it has become a part of me like my legs and arms. I can’t move without it coming along for the ride.
“Hey, Sunday.”
I glance up as Sasha, my coworker in Suzie’s salon, bears down on me, her smile as false as her lashes and spray tan.
“Mrs. Amos is in soon and you have the privilege of washing her skanky hair.”
Her eyes gleam with malevolence, which I’m kind of getting used to.
“Sure.”
I fix a bright smile on my face because I must make this work. Failure is not an option because I’m at the last chance saloon. I can’t go back – ever. Both to my original home in Los Angeles or to my adopted one. The one I walked away from and left my heart behind because of one man. Razor.
I swallow hard, pushing his image away because that fucking asshole used me and watched me walk away without so much as a kiss goodbye.
I tried everything to make him fall in love with me, but I wasn’t enough.
I am never enough, and washing Mrs. Amos’s skanky hair, as Sasha calls it, is the least of my problems.
An alarm flashes up on my phone, and my day has just gone from bad to worse as the notification taunts me.
Dad’s birthday.
The lump in my throat threatens to choke me because, more than anything in this entire world right now, I want to wrap my arms around him and sob like a child.
It would be so easy. One touch of my keypad and I could hear his familiar gruff tone. The one I dream about at night that echoes in my mind. To picture his strength, his love, his sacrifice, is too hard to bear, and nostalgia hits me like a wrecking ball.
I am so alone.
I have nobody.
My family is scattered, both my biological one and my chosen one.
I am treading a lonely path right now, and the overwhelming urge to call my father blinds my rationality.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pocket my phone and head to use the one in the salon instead, hoping it’s safer than using mine.
“Joe Palmer.”
His familiar voice seeps through me like a welcome balm, healing, familiar, and achingly beautiful. A sound I never appreciated until I lost it, and I picture his brow furrowed in concentration as he waits for me to speak.
“Who is this?”
His tone sharpens, distrust, fear and anger replacing politeness.
My fingers shake as I grip the phone and whisper, “Dad.”
“Josie!”
He sounds shocked, angry even, and I whisper, “Happy birthday, Dad.”
“Baby–” His voice breaks, and I wipe away my falling tears.
He whispers, “Are you okay, honey?”
“Yes.” I sniff, words not coming easily right now.
“I’m okay.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m safe. No need to worry.”
“I’m your father, of course I worry.”
His breathing is heavy, fear interwoven in every breath.
“You shouldn’t be calling me.”
“I know, but…”
“It’s okay, I understand, baby, but please don’t take any risks on my behalf.”
My voice quivers. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, angel.”
He cuts the call, brutal, final and devastating.
The screen mocks me with its emptiness, and I gulp back the rising sob and glance up as Mrs. Amos pushes her walker through the door.
“Somebody fetch me a seat and a stiff drink. It’s as if I’ve run a mile.”
Sasha rolls her eyes from the corner of the room where she is cutting another customer’s hair into a sharp bob, and she nods toward the basin.
I force a bright smile onto my face, noting Mrs. Amos’s car parked a few feet away.
“Welcome, Mrs. Amos. Take a seat at the basin. Let me wash away your stress.”
I wink at her, and she rewards me with a soft smile. “Thanks, Sunday. You’re a good girl.”
The call is forgotten as I jump to attention and do what they pay me for. The worst jobs in the salon because I’m new here.
* * *
I wake as I do every morning, wondering where the hell I am. Nothing is familiar. It doesn’t feel like home, and I’m aware of the reason why.
Because he’s not here.
My gaze falls to the space beside me in the bed.
It’s empty, much like my heart is these days.
I had become accustomed to waking up beside Razor.
His huge, muscled body trapping mine. His rough hands cruising my skin, shivers running through me, strangled gasps for air when he claimed my lips.
Domineering, sensitive, rough, gentle, a beast. My prince in black leather.
He was all of those things and more, and I would have given him the world, but he didn’t want me.
He watched me walk away, and I can never forgive him for how that hit me in the soul.
* * *
I’m weary. Life is weighing me down and I’m questioning everything.
Did I do the right thing when I left? It cost me a lot, my family a lot, but how can I regret a move that brought me to Razor?
No matter how it turned out, I wouldn’t trade those months for anything.
I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.
I belonged. He lit a flame that burned bright until he extinguished it with his cruel rejection.
I can never forgive him for letting me leave.
This is my new start. A new apartment, state, and career. It’s everything I ever wanted, but it means nothing without family or him.
A lone tear escapes; at least it’s only one I suppose, and I must be thankful for that. It’s taken many months not to start the day with a torrent of tears and end it the same way.
My limbs are like lead as I attempt to move on with my day. College is beckoning, and I have a practical assessment to get through. I’m doing well. I enjoy learning, but I wish I could let go of the past and embrace this new beginning.
* * *
I head off after breakfast toward the campus. It’s a short ride, and the small compact I bought, courtesy of The Twisted Reaper scholarship fund, is more than adequate for my needs. I can never repay the MC club that funded my new beginning, and I must remember to check in with them later on today.
Lucy is my point of contact and I love her with all my heart, but I hate the sympathy in her voice when she asks me how I’m doing. I breeze the question, but I’m fooling no one. We both know that I will never be okay all the time Razor lives rent free in my memory.
I note a few of the guys from the college hanging around the parking lot and must admit they are easy on the eye. They make no secret of the fact that they’re interested. A couple of them, anyway.
Scott catches my eye as I pull up, and his gaze burns as I exit the car, making toward me as if he has purpose, and I sigh inside.
I’m not in the mood for this today.
“Sunday!”
He calls as I heave my purse over my shoulder.
“Wait up.”
I flip the lock on the key fob, the alarm telling me one of my possessions is secure at least.
“Let me carry that.”
He makes to take my purse, and I clutch it tighter.
“I’m good thanks.”
I reward him with a smile, and he latches onto it like an eager puppy.
“I’ve been meaning to catch up with you. There’s a party at Funnel Creek this weekend and I was wondering…”
His sexy grin would entice the primmest female on the planet, but it leaves me cold. It appears I like my men rough around the edges, covered in tattoos and bad attitude, and none of these college kids even come close.
“I’m busy this weekend, sorry. Perhaps you’ll take a rain check.”
I shouldn’t encourage him, but his eyes light up. “Sure. Maybe Monday, after class finishes. There’s…”
I shake my head. “Perhaps it’s best if I call you. My schedule is…” I raise my eyes. “Grueling right now, what with working and studying.”
I hate how crushed he looks.
“Sure. You have my number, right?”
Holding out my phone, I hand it to him to program it.
As he hands it back, his attention is disarming, and part of me wonders if I should indulge in a hot date. Scott is extremely sought after here, and for some reason, he is trailing after me like a lovesick puppy when he could have his pick.
My smile is bright as I pocket my cell in my jeans.
“I’ll call.”
I head off, leaving him standing, sighing inside. What’s wrong with me?
As I cross the parking lot, I’m so deep in thought I don’t pay attention and miss the car pulling up in front of me. I glance up, my brow furrowed, and sigh as I step back, noting another car behind me.
My heart hammers as if it senses the danger, and as I make to edge around it, the passenger door opens, blocking my exit and before I can react to that, a strong hand grips my arm and pulls me roughly inside.
I vaguely hear yelling over the squeal of tires, and as the car heads at speed toward the college entrance, a hand slaps over my mouth with a cloth, and almost immediately, I sink into oblivion.