But Kendra getting pregnant?
That was my hard limit.
"Then do," Rex rumbled. "Years’ worth of working hard to make sure you can stay at home, of providing for you and Cyan without question—"
"That’s what husbands do for their families!"
His laughter scorched me. "Honey, get real. Most men don’t even pay their fucking child support. I know for a fact Storm was giving you most of his goddamn take so you didn’t have to work after you split up.
"If you didn’t accept it, then that’s on you, but he gave you most of it because he doesn’t need much to live on and he wanted you to have the world." He shrugged. "Maybe in your weird church, men were the providers, and I ain’t saying that’s a bad thing, but either way, you shouldn’t take it for granted.
"Then there’s the stuff that ain’t normal, but that costs. It’s fucked up, but he spends a lot of money on guards for you—"
"I don’t ask him to do that. It’s like being surveilled by the FBI."
"—and how about the fact you always have a new SUV while he rides that old Harley—"
"It’s a vintage ride!"
"No, it ain’t. It’s old. The fucker’s got a stack of cash but he’ll spend it on you and Cyan before ever spending it on himself." He glowered at me. "While we’re at it, how about the fact that your dad routinely calls the ATF on us, and we only get out of shit because we have an in with them?
"How about how Storm ain’t never said shit to you about that or the fact that your pop manages to get the landlords of every property you’ve ever tried to live in to throw out the rental agreement before you can sign on the dotted line so he always has to buy a property first… and trust me, honey, he ain’t going to Chase Bank for a mortgage to cover it."
"Dad gets us tossed out of our homes?" I gasped.
"No, he makes it so that you won’t have a roof over your head in West Orange. Because that’s the kind of God-fearin’ gentleman he is.
"Why do you think you were on the outskirts, on the border with Verona? Because dear, old Daddy doesn’t have reach there. Hell, I don’t know what shit he’s got over people, but he even had some sellers back out of contracts. That’s some power over his flock.
"Never mind the fact that you ain’t never come to a family picnic at the MC apart from that first year, or a party or ever tried to be a part of what makes Asher Storm. The Sinners are integral to him, and you never—"
"He discouraged me! He didn’t want me there, probably so he could be with his—"
Rex pshawed. "Grow a pair. That man in there would lie down in the middle of a fucking road for you. He’d take a goddamn bullet for you. The shit he’s put up with and you’re telling me if you’d put your fucking foot down, if you’d given enough of a damn, he wouldn’t have given in?
"You trying to tell me that if Nyx told Giulia she couldn’t go to a party, she wouldn’t roll up there anyway?" Rex shook his head. "You’re different, Keira. I get it. You come from a different background, but don’t lose sight of reality here. Your background is religious not fucking alien." My mouth worked as I tried to figure out what I was being told, but Rex just smirked at me. "See? You think you know your husband, but you don’t. And that’s on him, but it’s also on you.
"Maybe you should give him a second chance so you can get to know the guy who’s put up with eleven years’ worth of bullshit just so he can climb into bed with you at night."
He swept away before I could tell him to fuck off, tell him it was none of his business, tell him he was wrong, tell him that he had no right to dissect my character like that, but instead, I plastered myself to the door, knowing he was right.
Knowing it and hating myself for it.
I didn’t know Storm. That much was truth. Oh, I knew that he smelled of patchouli because he used a shampoo I liked, and I knew that he loathed soup even though he was making it every day at the moment.
I was aware of his issues with his mom, and how he loved Rene and Bear like they were his real parents.
I knew that he slept on the left-hand side of the bed because, if he was on the right, he always woke up with his back aching.
I knew that he was allergic to cilantro, and that whenever his team lost, he’d pout into a bag of chicharrones that I bought specially and hid in a drawer so that he didn’t have to share them with Cyan who gnawed on them like they were cookies…
But that wasn’t enough, was it? How could it be when he’d kept so much of himself hidden from me?
A strange pool of grief surged inside me, making me press my fist to my mouth to contain the sob that wanted to escape. I didn’t have answers tonight, but instead of heading into the kitchen, I went to my bathroom and cleaned up.
If I cried in the shower, that was my business and no one else’s. And if I stared blindly at the shower wall for a good five minutes, trying to wonder if I was as shitty a wife as Rex had made out, that was no one’s business either.
But facts were facts, and there was no getting away from one single home truth—it was time for me to grow up. And for a thirty-year-old woman, that was a bitter pill to swallow.
It took two to make a marriage and, there was no hiding from this, two to break it.
Dear Keira
Tomorrow’s your birthday.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.
I know you’ve seen me watching you.
I know that you’re not scared.
I know that when you smile at me, it’s genuine.
Do you want me to come talk to you? I think I already know the answer.
I wish I were younger. I wish I didn’t feel like some creep prowling around a high school Senior. I’m pretty sure every pervert going thinks they’re not a pervert. Says they can’t help it. But that’s bullshit. I can help it. I’m not a pervert. If it means not being able to talk to you for years, I’ll wait.
I’ll always wait. Because it’s not your beauty or your youth that calls to me, it’s your smile. It’s your soul. It’s like a song starts up in my head when I see you and I need to hear that song, because it drowns everything else out.
If I could tell you that, maybe I’d feel better inside.
Tomorrow, it’s your birthday. I have no right to wish you a happy one, but I need to. I need you to know I care.
I’ll think about it tomorrow.
I’ll sit on my bike, and I’ll watch you walk into school, then later on, I’ll watch you walk back out, knowing that you’re safe because my eyes are on you, and I’ll come to a decision.
I have your birthday gift.
Maybe you’ll never hold it in your hands, but when I saw it, I thought of you.
I always think of you.
Kendra told me that Ray Leinster is going to try something at your birthday party.
Jimmy told me he and the other jocks have a bet going on about who’ll get in your panties first.
I’ll kill him before I let him steal your virginity from you.
I hope you say no so I don’t have to.
I’ll be watching.