Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I sagged against the wall and slipped to the floor.
He was gone.
And I could only pray it wasn’t for good.
TAYLOR
After a week, there was still no sign of him. I switched to autopilot. I climbed out of bed, I got Noah to school and then I went to work.
But the clubhouse wasn’t the same with him gone. Nothing was. He was the first thing I thought of in the morning and the last thing when I turned the light out at night.
Everything in between felt empty and gray.
I missed him.
Terribly.
I put one foot in front of the other, but my heart ached and I struggled to smile. I became attached to my phone, always checking it for a message from Bull, and when I was at work, I kept looking over to the door, willing him to walk in.
But he never did. Because he was gone. And I didn’t think he was coming back.
After my shifts, I would pick Noah up from school, and sometimes we would hang out at the breakfast counter while he did his homework and talk about his day. Other days, he’d spend the afternoon with his friends, and I would stare out the window and wonder if I was ever going to see Bull again.
At first the Kings were wary of me. But beneath the cool stares and cold shoulders, there was a deep current of understanding. This was the MC world. It was dark. It was dangerous. And it was unpredictable. Things could turn on a dime.
They knew about my past. My parents. What Alex had done. And apparently, Bull had warned them that any attempt for revenge would be met with brutal consequences. They needed to understand that everything was done in an attempt to keep my brother safe, and that at no stage was Bull’s life in danger because of me.
It would take time, but they would learn to trust me again.
A second weekend passed without a word from him, and I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I approached Ruger. “Please, you have to let me know he’s okay.”
I didn’t know how Ruger felt toward me. Had he forgiven me for the lies?
Did he hate me for hurting his best friend?
He probably thought I had no right asking, but I didn’t care. I needed to know he was alright.
Seeing me so distressed, Ruger’s face softened and he nodded for me to sit down on the bar stool next to him.
“He’s okay.” His green eyes sparkled across at me. “He just needs time.”
“Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”
He shook his head regretfully. “I don’t know.”
I took a chance in asking, “Will you?”
Ruger thought for a moment before replying.
“I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully because this is a weird fucking situation and I can see how much you’re struggling with it. You were caught between a rock and a hard place. I get it. We all do. And if any of us were in the same situation…who knows if we would’ve done it differently.” His brow creased. “I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to him.”
His unexpected words hit me with so much warmth I wanted to cry.
“You do?”
“You brought him back to life, Taylor. You gave him what none of us could…hope. Before you came along, he was stuck in darkness. But you changed that. You brought him out of it. You made him happy. Made him love again.”
“But he hates me. And I don’t blame him.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He loves you.” His gaze met mine. “He’s just not sure what to do with that in light of the events that transpired.”
His words lingered in me. Hours later, as I spent another evening overcome with longing, they replayed over and over in my mind.
Tonight, Noah was at a sleepover. Despite being a school night, I let him go because he’d suffered two major losses recently.
Pickles.
And now Bull.
I didn’t know how to make it up to him. I could barely cope with it myself. Pickles’s death had been completely out of my hands, but I was responsible for Bull being gone, and it all wrapped itself around my neck like a giant boa constrictor.
Now I was alone, with a bottle of wine already opened and a storm brewing outside. By late evening, the rain was coming down hard. I could see the glittering needles falling through the illumination from the street light and I was becoming more depressed with every raindrop.
I turned away from the window, fighting tears. I missed him. I missed him desperately.
Taking my glass of wine over to the couch, I curled up in front of the television. But I only stared at the screen. I couldn’t absorb anything. All I could do was miss him.
The knock at my front door was so faint, I barely heard it. But it was followed by another one, this time louder. I glanced at the clock. It was a little after nine and I wasn’t expecting anyone.