I don’t know what to do at this point. I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t even go to church. I should stay far away because I don’t know if I’m going to walk out of that room alive or be wheeled out dead.
Maybe I can go nomad. I’m pretty sure running is going to be the only way my neck stays attached to my body. I should have just had sex with her the way I wanted. At least she’d be in bed, she wouldn’t be running around, and she sure as fuck would not have run off with that fucker in the suit.
Goddammit.
CHAPTER NINE
VIKING
“She just walked toward them?”Bullet asks. “She got in their car, and they just… drove away.”
I’m standing in his office before the church he’s called. I wanted to make sure he had all the information, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do, which was actually to tell him the whole story. But he’s my president, and he needs to have all the information.
Complete fucking bullshit, but whatever; I can’t keep things from him. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tip my chin slightly as I look down my nose at him, waiting for him to say something.
Anything.
“It’s not your fault,” he states.
My head jerks back slightly as if he’s hit me. Pressing my lips together, I narrow my eyes at him. I don’t know where this shit is coming from. He should be reading me the whole goddamn riot act.
He should probably strip me of my road captain title, at the very fucking least. And he should end it by beating the absoluteshit out of me and leaving me for dead. But right now, he’s telling me it’s no big deal.
I don’t understand what the fuck is going on.
Leaning forward, I place my palms against his wooden desk, my gaze searching his for a moment. “Are you fucking serious with me right now?” I growl. “It’s absolutely my fault. I fucking froze right there in the middle of the goddamn street, Bullet.”
“Why?” he asks.
He doesn’t change his tone, doesn’t change his demeanor. He leans back in his chair, tilting his head back slightly, his eyes finding mine.
“Why?”
“Why?”
I watch him for a moment, my anger slowly dissipating. I know exactly what he’s asking me. Why did I freeze? And if I say it’s because I’m madly fucking in love with Lainey, that’s admitting I have feelings for her.
And I’m not going to do that. Not when I can’t have her. What would be the point? I’m not going to fuck up her shit any more than it already is. She’s a woman who wants to make her own choices, and even if I don’t like them, she can’t make the one I want, and neither can I, so I don’t say shit.
Pressing my lips together, I think about telling him to fuck all the way off, but I decide against it. I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell my president to fuck off. Not when he knows what I’m thinking and just wants to hear me say the words.
I’m not going to do that, though.
I’ll never admit a thing. Not one that makes me look weak in any way. And both of the logical reasons as to why I couldn’t protect Lainey make me look exactly that way. So I go with avoidance and say nothing.
“It doesn’t matter why. All that matters is it happened. So what the fuck do we do now?”
His lips twitch into a smirk, his eyes searching mine, and he lets out a chuckle. “You fucking fell, and you fell hard. Did you even touch her?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I bark.
He lets out a chuckle. “Well,” he says, “I’m guessing you didn’t, and that’s why you’re pissed. Although I can’t quite guess at how you haven’t fucked her in the past few years.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ve been alone together enough, with enough opportunity. Nobody would have known one way or the other. I see how you watch her and the way she looks at you. That shit is absolutely fucking obvious, brother.”
I don’t dignify that with a response. Because fuck him and fuck that. Instead, I take a step backward, my gaze never leaving his. His lips twitch into a smirk, almost as if he’s really called me out on something and thinks he’s downright fucking funny.