Craving Resurrection Page 112

So once again, I was pushed away.

And I left like a dog with its tail between its legs, because I’d never force her to do something she didn’t want—even if that meant I had to stay away.

I called and texted her even as I braced myself for another long separation, but to my surprise, it was only a couple months before I saw her again.

It was the night that changed everything for us…the night she answered questions I hadn’t known to ask, and ruined me completely.

Chapter 53

Brenna

Dragon’s hand engulfed mine as he pulled me inside the clubhouse. We finally had another night without the kids, and after dinner and a movie we’d decided to stop by for a couple of drinks. Drinking at home wasn’t nearly as much fun as drinking at the club, and I knew he was planning on getting me hammered by the look in his eye.

Drunk sex with my man. I couldn’t wait.

“Hey darlin’,” Vera said stiltedly as I leaned in to give her a kiss. “What are you two doin’ here?”

“Rose and Cam offered to take the kids for the night, and you know I couldn’t pass that up,” I replied jokingly, leaning over to hug Slider as Dragon headed toward the bar. “Whose Prius is that outside?”

I couldn’t imagine any of the members allowing their old lady to get a freaking hybrid. It stuck out like a sore, white thumb in a sea of black and chrome bikes.

She began to reply when her eyes suddenly looked over my shoulder and widened and her mouth snapped shut.

I turned my head to see what she was looking at, and caught sight of a woman with long, grey dreadlocks practically running through the doorway from the back hallway.

“I know her,” I said slowly, trying to remember where I’d seen the woman before. As soon as the words left my mouth, my pop came out behind her, catching her by the arm. “What the hell?”

I began to move forward when a strong hand clamped down on my arm and I turned to see Slider holding me in place.

“Wha—“

“It’s not your business. You want to stay, you’ll be silent,” he said emphatically, never looking away from the scene Pop was making.

“What’s going on?” I asked in confusion.

“Something that shoulda happened thirty years ago.”

“She’s going to break him,” Vera whispered, raising her hand to her mouth.

“He broke her years ago, guess it’s about time for her to return the favor,” Slider murmured back ominously.

Their words were beginning to scare me, and the expression on Dragon’s face as he made his way back to my side multiplied my fear.

“I need to go over—”

“You’ll stay right where ya are,” Slider interrupted. “Or I’ll have your man drag ya outta here.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“He doesn’t, I will,” Slider promised, meeting my eyes for only a moment before looking back toward Pop.

“You probably shouldn’t be here for this,” Dragon murmured into my ear, making me glance at him in surprise. He knew what was going on?

How the hell would he know when I didn’t? And why the fuck was the woman who sold me my old Corolla standing in the club yelling at my pop?

Amy

“How could ye do such a t’ing?” Patrick yelled at me, lifting my hand up so I had no choice other than to look at it and drawing every eye in the room.

“It was time. Now let go of my arm.” I tried to keep my voice level, but I was fighting a losing battle with my temper.

I’d gone to the club for two reasons, to thank him for what he’d done for my son and hand him the divorce papers I’d had sitting in my purse for a week. I knew the two reasons seemed odd, like I was thanking him by trying to divorce him—but in my head, it had made perfect sense.

I was making a clean break. Finally.

I’d covered my anchor two days before, crying the entire time, and the moment I’d eventually crawled out of my bed, I’d known it was time to finish it all.

I couldn’t do it anymore, not to either of us. Staying married and wearing his mark had given him hope for too long, and it was selfish of me to let that continue. My inability to let go was dragging us both under, it had only taken me thirty years to realize it.

“I love ye!” he hissed. “I’ll not divorce ye.”

“I don’t need your agreement.”

“De fuck ye don’t!”

“I’m leaving, Patrick. Let go of my arm.”

His hold didn’t hurt, not in any way, but I couldn’t make myself pull out of his grip. If I did it—if I made that physical break—I knew it would seem as if I was running away again. He had to let me go on his own, or he’d eventually follow.

“Why are ye doin’ dis? I’ve loved ye for most of me life! I’ve never stopped lovin’ ye, and I know ye haven’t, eit’er!”

His words were ripping me up, tearing my insides to pieces and setting them on fire inside my chest. It was painful, but the longer he held me, the angrier I got.

Why couldn’t he see it? Why had he been so blind for so long?

I loved him! Of course I fucking loved him! But it didn’t matter how many times I told myself I’d forgiven Patrick, I couldn’t shake the resentment I felt toward him and it hadn’t dissipated as years went by; if anything, it had only grown stronger.

“You want to know why?” I asked viciously, my voice rising. “Really, Patrick?”