Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Bring it on, motherfucker.
Before I can do anything, T steps between us, pushing us away from one another. I drop my hands, knowing there’s no way I’ll get to King now. I can’t piss T off when I came here for his help.
“Knock it off, you two. Wh-why are you here, Dom? Is something wrong with M-Mom or D-Dad?” T asks.
“No, I just need to talk to you. Something has happened and I don’t know how to deal with it. I need to talk to you, man.” Fuck, I hate being in this position.
“What?” T asks, looking me over.
“I want to talk to you alone T,” I tell him after looking at King with a grimace.
“K-king is my brother,” T says. “H-he doesn’t h-have to leave.”
“It’s not a club matter, T. It’s personal and I need my brother right now.” I don’t like showing any weakness, especially in front of King, but he deserves to know what is going on. Shit, my head is a mess and I need him. T has a way of calming me and letting me think rationally. Fuck, I need that right now.
Before T can say anything, King cuts him off. “It’s cool. I’m leaving. The stink here is getting to me.” T sighs before King slaps him on his back as he passes. “See you later, T. I’m heading to pick my woman up from the diner, anyway. Bye Kid,” King calls out to me.
“Fuck you,” I tell King before turning back to T. “How can you be happy here? I just don’t get it.”
“I love my club and b-brothers. It’s home. What’s up? What did you need to t-t-talk to me about?”
“Can we get out of the hallway before I lay it on you?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. Now that I don’t have my anger directed at King, I don’t know how I’m going to tell T.
I follow him the few steps to the room he just came out of. It’s a small office with fluorescent shop lights on the ceiling. There are no windows, but the desk has a picture of him, Lyla, and Tamsin. He sits down behind it, and it’s as if my brother is a completely different man than the one that I remember. He really does belong here…
“Okay, now t-tell me. W-w-what’s g-going on?”
It’s now or never. I let the words fall from my mouth before I can chicken out.
“Gabby’s pregnant.”
I see T’s eyes dilate. His breath catches and I prepare myself for the worst. I all but fall into one of the chairs across from his desk. I grip the arms of it so tight, it’s a wonder the wood doesn’t crack.
“W-Why do you care?” he asks, sounding confused.
“She says it’s mine.”
Those words begin to spark inside him. I can see the anger behind his stare. “Thought you w-were w-with Thea? What the fuck, Dom?”
I wince at the anger in his voice.
“It was before Thea and I were together, T.”
“I can’t believe you were still fucking with her,” he yells. He doesn’t stutter a word this time. Somehow, that makes me feel worse.
“I wasn’t,” I deny immediately. “I got drunk, and I swear when I passed out in the motel across from Pussy’s, I was alone. Gabby was there the next morning in bed with me. She said I called her and a bunch of other shit. I remember nothing other than passing out and waking up to my worst nightmare the next morning.”
He studies me, and I guess I was hoping for words of support or something. He doesn’t offer those. “How’s Thea?”
A bitter smile moves over my face. “Not talking to me. She moved back in with her parents.”
T actually laughs. “That’s my girl.”
“Do you hate me so much that you’re glad she left me? I know I probably deserve it, but Thea is my world. I’m dying without her. If I can’t manage to get her back, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
He studies me and sighs. “Thea won’t l-let you run over her.”
“I don’t want to. Thea’s the only person in my life who gives me everything she is. I don’t worry about her keeping secrets or hiding what she thinks. She’s completely open, letting it all hang out and not caring if she left herself vulnerable. I love that about her. I want to cherish it and make it a safe place for her. Instead, I have only caused her pain. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t think I can survive without her.”
“That’s your p-p-problem,” T huffs out. “You need to stop worrying ab-b-bout you and focus on her.”
“Hard to do when she won’t even talk to me.”
“You c-could give up and m-move on,” he suggests, and his words have never cut me more.