“I guess…I guess I can do that.”
“Thank you,” he says, giving my knees a squeeze.
Then I can’t help but blurt out, “Why haven’t you called? Not that I would’ve answered, but you said you were going to, and you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you would answer or ignore me, and the thought of being blown off without a word again…I just didn’t want to go through that again.”
“Oh.” Laurel must have ignored his calls before she filed for divorce, ignoring him instead of just being honest with him. “I can understand that, but I don’t understand why you would fire a gun at me and Thane. It was dangerous! You could’ve hurt or killed us. I can’t stand that kind of senseless violence, Barrett.”
“I blew out his motorcycle tires. That’s it. I wouldn’t have taken the shot if you or him were in the way.”
“Violence breeds violence. So maybe your prospect got kidnapped because you went too far.”
“You’re joking, right?” he asks before he gets to his feet again, now towering over me. “You think a couple of flat tires are the same as kidnapping an innocent kid?”
“I’m not saying it’s equal; I’m saying it may have escalated things unnecessarily. What if Thane had fired back at you and had hit you?”
“Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that you aren’t the man I thought you were.”
Barrett bristles, and his face falls. “Yeah, I’m sorry too, Lyla.” We stand there in silence until, finally, he asks, “Will you please go home now?”
“Fine. Sure. Whatever.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you know once Jordan, our prospect, is safe so you can do whatever you want. You don’t have to reply back to me, but I hope you will.”
“Okay,” I agree, already knowing I will just because I don’t want to share any shitty similarities with my sister.
“Thanks, Lyla,” Barrett says as he turns to the door.
“See ya, Barrett.”
As soon as he’s out the door, I shut and lock it behind him before turning around and slumping against it.
I thought Barrett was a good guy, that he wouldn’t get caught up in the stupid shit the motorcycle club does around here. And I hate being wrong, admitting to myself that he’s not as perfect as I always thought he was.
“Everything okay?” Holly asks when she tiptoes into the living room.
“No. My father has lost his mind.”
“What did he do now?”
“He kidnapped the Savage Kings’ prospect!”
“He did what?” she asks as she comes closer.
“My father kidnapped some teenager to make me come home.”
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what he’s thinking or why he’s being such a dick.”
“So, are you leaving?”
“What choice do I have? I don’t want to be the bad guy here.”
“No, that’s all on Isaac.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “But as soon as their prospect is safe, I’m gone too.”
“You’ll come back and stay here?” Holly asks.
“Hopefully, I’ll have an interview or a job to go to, anything to get out of this town and away from freaking motorcycle gangs.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Barrett
It’s almost 2:00 a.m. before we all get back to Greer’s with Jordan. He’s got a few bruises that will heal, thankfully nothing worse. He assured us he wasn’t beaten so much as just thrown around the back of a van while restrained. Overall, he’s in good spirits.
Isaac still insisted we close our chapter down by the end of the month when he let Jordan go, but that’s a problem for another day.
As soon as I sit down at the bar, I pull out my phone to text Lyla. I type out at least five various possibilities to say, “Our prospect is safe thanks to you,” before sending that exact message.
Then, I stupidly stare down at the chat window while sipping one beer, then another, waiting for a response from her that may never come.
I shouldn’t have slept with Lyla or shot out Thane’s motorcycle tires. I knew both of those things could cause a shitload of problems, and they did. Jordan could’ve ended up paying for my mistakes.
Being with Lyla was great, even if it’s over now. Hopefully, I can move on, maybe even start dating for the first time in five years.
When my phone dings with a new message, the sensation of relief in my gut has me second-guessing if I’m really done with Lyla or not.
Her message is nothing but a thumbs-up emoji, but it still makes me smile.
She actually responded.
I miss her and want to see her again, despite the mess I caused.
Lyla
“Want me to carry some of those bags?” Thane offers.
“No. And I really don’t need you following me around store to store,” I tell my shadow. It’s been a week since I moved back home, and yet I’m still not allowed to leave the house without an escort.
“Too bad. President’s orders,” Thane says as he hovers over me, chomping his gum loudly. “How much longer is this going to take?”
“It takes as long as it takes,” I tell him. “You can leave if you want.”
He grumbles something but shuts up.
The shopping trip is a necessary one, but going back to the scene of the crime, the same place where I ran into Barrett just a few weeks ago, wasn’t required. It’s stupid of me to want to “accidentally” run into him when he made it clear that it’s over.
What happened between us was nothing but two hot sexual encounters. It was stupid to think he would want more with me. Or that my father wouldn’t ruin it.
“What are you shopping for next?” Thane asks.
“I need a power suit, one that makes me look smart and capable of assisting the CEO of one of the largest animal rescue charities in the country.”
“Animal rescue? Like cats and dogs?”
“Yes. Any pet you can think of that people have and surrender, but mostly cats and dogs.”
“Then you should find a suit or a shirt with like little puppies or kitties on it,” he says.
“Thanks, I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I reply with a puff of laughter. Although, I guess I could wear my sneakers with the doggies on them…
“Have you told your dad about the interview?”
“Have I told my father I have an interview for a job in Atlanta? Nope,” I say as I sift through the hangers on a suit rack.
“Are you going to tell him, or do I have to be the one to break the bad news?”
I turn around to face the pain-in-the-ass biker boy. “He doesn’t need to know about my interview.”
“Right. He wants to know your every move day and night, but he won’t care that you’re driving states away for an interview. You know I have to come with you, right?”
“Fine,” I huff. “I’ll try and tell him tonight. And I’ll try to get you out of it.”