I startled and looked over at Mac, who had woken up at some point. I gave him a smile, hoping he couldn’t see my tear tracks in the dark. “I’m fine, handsome. Go back to sleep. All my stuff is in your room, so I’m going to take a shower real quick. Then I’ll be back.” I nearly choked on the words, but walked over to him and leaned down to give him a kiss. “I love you.”
He reached up, caressing my cheek. “I love you too, gorgeous.”
I practically ran out of the room. When I got to Mac’s, I headed straight for the nightstand where I knew he kept a notepad and pen. I held the pen over the paper, at a complete loss for what to even say. What words could possibly convey the sorrow I felt, and how much I loved them. My tears fell faster, splattering on the paper. The scratch of pen on paper was the only sound I could hear in the still of quickly approaching night. I had no need for any of the clothes here, so I didn’t bother to grab them.
On my way out of the room, I stopped and stared at the picture of Mac, Dalton, and me with our bikes. I bit my lip and, before I could change my mind, took the picture from the frame and tucked it into my pocket. One last glance behind me and, fully aware I was taking the coward’s way out, I headed to what had once been my home. On top of Mac’s dresser was the tear-stained paper I had left behind. The only words written were a desperate plea.
“Please forgive me.”
I stood in the doorway for one final heartbeat, breathing in the smell of motor oil and cologne—everything I loved was in this room. And everything I could no longer have.
I tried to turn off every thought as I walked past members of the club. People, good people, I had cometo know and care for like family over the past year. If they sensed something was wrong, they didn’t say anything. Rodney asked me if I wanted a drink, to celebrate the new leadership. I couldn’t even say no—I just pretended like I hadn’t heard him.
I found my Triumph where I had left it. Breaking every speed limit, I headed to the cute little house I had made my home. Every memory hit like a knife the second I crossed the threshold. I pried the loose board in the back of the closet away from the others to get my passport, secondary phone, and spare cash out. I had more than enough for a ticket home. I shoved it all into a bag and used the phone Dalton had given me to order an Uber to the airport.
Katie didn’t ride motorcycles.
When I threw the phone on the bed, my eyes landed on the giant stuffed fox, and I froze. Shaking my head, tears yet again blurring my eyes, I forced myself to turn away. But I stopped by the mall strip picture sitting on my dresser. Sandwiched between Maria and Holly, my happy and carefree smile wasn’t fake. I tucked that next to the other picture in my pocket.
In the back of the Uber, I texted a number I knew by heart, and hoped she wouldn’t hate me too much. Shelly, my former best friend and old partner. I wasn’t really sure what—if anything—they’d told her, but I knew when I got back to South Carolina, I was going to need a friend, not to mention a ride.
After a brief back and forth, her insisting I prove I was who I said I was, she readily agreed to meet me there.
“Girl, I have so much to tell you! Right after I beat the shit out of you for just pulling some Oompa Loompa shit.”
Shelly’s metaphors had never made sense, but the chuckle that escaped me was a raspy surprise.
“I’ll see you soon.”
She sent back a flurry of emojis, and I steeled myself for the beginning of the end.
Chapter 23
Maverick
I reached across the sheets, finding nothing but emptiness. The bed was cold, and early morning light softly illuminated the room. I blinked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and called out, “Vixen?” My voice was still rough, and I cleared my throat before calling out again, “Dalton?”
For a moment, I felt weird. Grown ass man sharing a bed with his brother. But it didn’t matter, didn’t count when she lay between us. I sat up and stretched, relishing the pop in my back. The door to the bathroom was open, and I could see that it was also empty. They must be downstairs.
Grabbing my shirt off the floor, I pulled it over my head as I made my way down the hall and past the motel rooms, greeting a few shell-shocked kids on my way. To my surprise, a few of them actually responded with hesitant smiles. If I knew her at all, Nicky was probably whipping them up one of the best breakfasts they would ever have in their lives. I hope she made waffles. I fucking loved her waffles. I yawned as I pushed the kitchen door open and found my brother pouring a cup of coffee, barefoot and dressed just in a pair of shorts.
“Nicky come down with you?”
“I thought she was with you?”
He gave me an odd look. “She wasn’t in bed when I got up. I assumed she was in the shower or something.”
Unease tightened my gut, and I turned to head back upstairs. Dalton followed, leaving his mug on the counter.
“She’s probably just in the shower. If we go barging in there, she’s gonna throw something sharp or heavy at us.”
“No, ‘cos when she woke me up last night, she told me she was going to shower before coming back to bed. So, either she’s taking the world’s longest, and coldest, shower or—”
“Something’s wrong.”
I took the stairs two at a time, heading straight for my room. I checked the bathroom and wasn’t surprised to find it empty. Where had she gone?
Dalton appeared in the doorway. “Anything?”
