I shake my head, feeling a pang of guilt. “I sent Lyric in here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. You’re not overlooked, Missy.”
Her voice drops to a whisper, her eyes fixed on the floor. “But I’m not one of you either.”
She looks defeated, her spirit crushed, and although I don’t like seeing her like this, she had a knife in her hand when I walked in. I step closer, but she flinches, so I stop.
“Missy, please look at me,” I whisper. “You’re important to us.”
She lifts her eyes, filled with tears and hurt. “You say that, but it doesn’t feel true. When Lyric showed up, everything changed. She fits in so easily like she was meant to be here.”
I reach out, hesitating, before gently placing my hand on her shoulder. “Lyric’s presence doesn’t change your value. You’ve been with us for years.”
Her lips tremble as she tries to hold back more tears. “Thenwhy do I feel so alone?”
My chest tightens. “I regret if we’ve made you feel that way.”
She takes a shaky breath, her eyes searching mine for any sign of deceit. “Do you really mean that?”
I nod, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Yes, I do. We’ll make this right. I’ll make this right.”
For a moment, we stand in silence, the weight of our words hanging in the air. Slowly, she relaxes, her grip on herself loosening.
“Okay,” Missy whispers, her voice fragile but tinged with hope. She nods, a small, tentative smile forming on her lips. “I wouldn’t have hurt her.”
She twists toward me, attempting to kiss me. I place both hands firmly on her shoulders and push her back. Despite her hard work and dedication to the club, I’ve never been intimate with her, and I don’t intend to start. Missyisa club whore and not someone I want to get involved with.
“What?” she asks, confusion flashing across her face.
“I’m with Lyric.”
“But you haven’t made her your Ol’ Lady. I won’t tell.”
I step back, putting some distance between us. “I like you, Missy, but I’m not interested in you that way.”
Her face flushes red with anger, and she throws her hands in the air. “You’re just like all the others!”
The door to the kitchen swings open, and Creed walks in. “What the fuck is going on?” he demands.
Shaking my head, I point at Missy. “I’m not entirely sure.”
Creed looks her up and down, a stern expression on his face. “What did I tell you?”
“To keep my crazy under control,” she mutters.
Surprised at her words, I cock my head to the side and look at Creed. “She done this before?”
Creed’s eyebrows knit together. “What did she do?”
“Nothing!” Missy cries.
Creed ignores her, staring directly at me. “What?”
“I walked in. She had a knife in her hands and was going after Lyric.”
Creed’s head snaps back in Missy’s direction. “You were warned.”
“I didn’t touch her!”
“Not true. Lyric had scratch marks down her arm. You did that.”
