“Station’s up ahead,” Axel says.
One of the sheriff’s substations comes into view with two floodlights that bleach everything the colour of old bone. Several bikes are already posted outside.
Fuck.
I can make out Devil’s Ride cuts near the far curb. Maybe one or two men are just there to watch the show because bikers gathering outside a sheriff’s station after midnight means there’s blood in the water somewhere.
Four’s release was never going to be clean, nothing is tonight.
I slow, pulling into line with the others, killing the engine. The sudden quiet is jarring. For a second no one moves.
I stare at the station doors and think about Bex upstairs at the clubhouse.Fuck,I don’t even know where she is. Is she in our room, like the rest of the Ol’ Ladies?
Not anymore asshole.
Is she angry? Packing? Crying? Or maybe not crying at all, maybe she’s just done.
That thought hits different, because Bex was never dramatic. If she was finished, she’d just be done with it. Like life taught her to cut her losses and move on.
Like she was never taught that attachment could be a good thing.
What if… Fuck…
What if she really is… was one of those girls… And I just let Angel drag her through that brutal past with an audience. But what if she had been with the enemy her whole childhood, teens and she’s some kind of sleeper cell shit…
NO… No.
That is not Bex.
Axel gets off his bike first and Torch follows. I stay where I am for one extra beat, hand still on the throttle, staring at the sheriff’s station doors and trying not to imagine the room I left behind. I try to push away the idea of her walking away from me for real and what my life will look like without her.
I swing off the bike, with the absolute knowledge that I fucked up, I should have chosen her.
CHAPTER 16
BEX - GOODBYE
The room feels smaller now, if that is even possible. The once cramped space now makes me feel claustrophobic. It feels as though the very walls that were meant to make me feel safe are closing in on me.
But that’s the thing, the safety he promised me was all an illusion, I should have known… I…
I move quickly, because it feels like every second matters. I don’t want to be here when Clutch gets back, I don’t want his excuses or reasoning. He showed me exactly what I needed to see, what I had always known but didn't want to see… not fully. Because once you see something that… you can’t go back.
He showed me his true colours, his allegiance to Angel and this club… If… if Razor would have pulled a gun… would he… I shake my head and move across the room.
My work bag is already by the dresser, I grab it and dump it out onto the bed to start sorting through what I need. My wallet, phone charger, an envelope I keep in my underwear drawer with my personal files go in first. I stare at my scrubs debating if I will even need them, I have no idea where I am going… I blow out a heavy breath and then grab all my scrubs, shoving them in the bag. Then I start grabbing my street clothes and shoes by handfuls, shoving them into an oversized backpack. I scan the room for anything that feels important to me.
Looking for the things that mattered to me before I ever walked into this club. Before I met him, before I made the mistake of believing I could belong somewhere. But as I look around I realize none of it is mine, I am not here… it’s like I never existed in this relationship… This life.
My heart gives a painful squeeze, but I ignore it, shoving everything into the bags and zipping them closed.
That’s it?
After three years.
Three years of sleeping in this bed, of waking up beside him. Three years of believing… hoping this was something real. My chest tightens again, but I force the feeling down.
Not now.