Chapter 26

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

SPENCER

The anger that simmers just below the surface is beyond anything that I’ve felt before. But it’s time for me to push that aside. I’ve been approved to visit my brother. Which means I’m one step closer to seeing him and leaving Pineville.

My car has a full charge, I’ve caught up on all of my work, and I’ve been able to avoid everyone associated with the Dark Horse MC for days, aside from Rim or Guts, depending on the time of day. They still won’t leave my side. But I’ve been holed up in the motel room for days, so I’ve actually been able to avoid them, too.

I feel stupid. And I hate that. I want to get this meeting with Humble finished and head home. That is the goal: make it to the prison visitation and get the fuck out of Pineville. Evan can have that woman. They can have each other and live however the hell they want to live.

But I won’t be the naive fool at home begging for scraps of him. I refuse. Ten years ago, it would have been a dream come true, but not anymore. No matter how he makes me feel. No matter how badly I want him. It’s not worth my mental health.

Closing my computer, my work not only caught up again but ahead. I walk around the room to stretch my muscles. I’ve been sitting for too long.

Honestly, I’ve been cooped up in this room forever. I should go for a walk and get some sunshine. I should go to the bakery since I didn’t when the girls asked me to. I should do a lot of things, but I don’t.

I stay holed up in my room for another day.

Another night.

And then there is a knock on the door. It’s not a knock so much as a bang. It is so loud, bouncing off the walls around me, that it causes me to jump. It’s not Guts, which is who it would be at this time of the afternoon.

Guts would never bang his fist on the door. He’d also call out and tell me it was him. This person has not done that, which means it can only be one person. Tiptoeing over to the door, I look out the peephole and let out a breath.

It’s him.

Dammit.

His angry gaze stares straight ahead, and I swear he can see my eyeball through the peephole. His face is set, his jaw locked tight, and my breath hitches. I want to back away slowly, but I swear he can hear and see me.

The way he’s staring, the angered expression on his face, I don’t think I’ll get out of this without speaking to him. Then I shake my head, clearing my anxious thoughts.

Wait one minute.

Why is he angry?

I’m the one who should be—and I am—pissed off. He’s the one who kept this woman from me. Why, I don’t even know. He’s the one who said there was no one else, that nobody had been in that cabin, that he had no other women, and yet she knew exactly where he was living and popped up like a jealous girlfriend.

With a renewed sense of a straight-up pissed-off woman, I reach for the knob of the door and wrench it open, anger coursing through my veins. This man has the good sense to wrench his shoulder back as if I’ve physically pushed him, my energy having hit him harder than I think I ever could.

Instead of speaking to me, he walks past me, his body brushing mine as he enters the room. I stand at the open door, surprised that he just makes himself comfortable, but then again, I am not surprised at all—it is Evan.

Turning my head, I look over to see Guts smirking in my direction. I roll my eyes at him, which causes him to chuckle. Then I put my anger firmly back into place and close the door behind me, turning to face this man but making no move toward him.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you ran away?” he demands.

That. Is. It.

“Want to tell me who the woman was who showed up at your cabin wanting to fuck you?” I demand, watching him flinch at my words.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” I respond.

He lets out a heavy sigh, but I’m holding my breath, ready to attack. I am so angry, and the way he is acting causes me to become even angrier. I am ready to completely lose my mind on this asshole.

“Beautiful,” he rasps, and if this were a couple of weeks ago, my knees would be weak at the singular word.

They are not weak any longer.

I cross my arms over my chest, arching a brow as I wait for him to feed me some bullshit, which will no doubt be mixed somewhere in there with truth. But don’t get me wrong, there will be bullshit.

Because it’s Evan. There will forever be some kind of bullshit.

“What?” I snap.

My give-a-damn is completely gone, vanished. It’s in another country on a beach, drinking cocktails and enjoying the sunshine right now.

“What the hell do you want?”

And that was one question too far, with a touch too much attitude. I know it is as soon as the words leave my mouth because he narrows his gaze on me and then takes one step toward me.

He doesn’t go farther than one step, but I watch as his hands ball into fists at his sides, and I know he’s doing everything he can to contain his control. He will, but he’s on the edge—on the very edge, ready to fall straight over.

“I want to know why the fuck you moved out of the cabin,” he demands.

“We’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t start explaining who that woman was.”

Evan doesn’t speak immediately, but I notice that his fingers release and relax to his side. Surveying him for a moment, I realize that he looks exhausted—not just tired, but exhausted.

If this were a normal situation, I might ask him if he was okay. But right now, I’m ready to beat the hell out of him, so I don’t care if he’s tired.

In fact, I hope he is.

I hope that he’s so tired he falls asleep while standing up… or something.

“Jasmine shouldn’t have gone out there,” he murmurs.

“Jasmine?” I ask.

My heart races. I didn’t know her name. But now that I do, my entire soul feels like it’s coming out of my body and floating above the room. The bitch has a name. And I hate it. I hate him, and I hate her.

I hate myself for falling in love with him again and losing myself.

brEW

Fuck.

The expression on her face breaks me.

I fucked up—big time.

But there is no way I’m going to admit that shit. Plus, I didn’t lie. I’m not with Jasmine. She’s never been anything other than a fuck. Sure, a fuck who lived in town, a fuck that I helped with bills out of pure fucking guilt.

“Jasmine and I have a complicated thing going on. I wasn’t planning on ever going back to her, though. I meant everything I said to you, Spencer.”

She narrows her eyes on me, her anger radiating from her body. I can feel it, and at the same time, I can almost taste it. It’s thick, and I know that this isn’t going to be a quick, sweet talk.

She’s livid, and if the tables were turned, I would be the same way. So, while I can understand her feelings as they’re valid, I just don’t accept them.

“Do you want to expand?” she asks, her eyes wide as she stares at me.

Moving closer to her, I lift my hand and reach out, sliding my fingers down the side of her throat, up to her jawline, and then glide my thumb across her bottom lip. “I don’t want to expand.”

“You’re going to have to. Although I’m not sure I care anymore at this point.”

I shake my head once, my eyes focused on hers. “Don’t, beautiful. Just don’t.”

Dropping my hand, I run my fingers through my hair as I let out a sigh and look down at my feet. “Fuck,” I hiss. “Fuck.”

“Evan,” she whispers.

I can hear the hurt in her voice, but I can also sense the distance there. She’s on her way out. I don’t blame her, but I won’t let her go anywhere. I’ve claimed her. Spencer is mine now—she’s always been mine.

“Jasmine was a girl I fucked at Sal’s Bar. She got knocked up, lost the baby, and the rest is a decade of guilt fucks and whatever the hell kind of toxic shit we had.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything. She stares at me, and I wish I could read her. She lifts her hand to her lips, her fingers covering them, and then she turns her head to the side, and I hear a hiccup.

“I’m really sorry that happened to her,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be insensitive, but she came at me, Evan. That is a tangled web I don’t want to be involved in. She knew where the cabin was. I thought you didn’t take women back there. I just don’t want the drama that comes with that woman, and I don’t want the drama of a man who can’t choose me.”

Anger flows through my body like a flash-bang. It’s immediate as it fills my bloodstream, and I charge her. Spencer backs away until her head bounces off the door with a thud. I slam my palms against the door on either side of her face.

“Who the fuck says I don’t or can’t choose you?” I growl. “I have already fucking claimed you.”

I lean forward until my lips almost touch hers as I say my next three words. They are the only ones she needs to hear and I need to say to her.

“You are mine.”

“I’m not. I want to go home,” she breathes.

And if I were a bigger man, I would let her go. But I’m fucking not. Smashing my lips against hers, I give her a hard kiss. Reaching for her shorts, I tug the button open, pull the zipper down, then tug them over her hips and push them down her legs as far as I can. They fall to her ankles.

Reaching down, I grab hold of the backs of her thighs, gripping them tightly as I pick her up and press her back against the door. She lifts her hands, gripping my shoulders with her fingers to steady herself.

“I hate you for not telling me,” she whispers.

Shifting my face forward again, I brush my lips across hers before I whisper against them, “I know you do, beautiful. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Fuck you, Evan.”

I snort. “Yeah, baby. I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna fuck me. We’ll figure the rest out later because you aren’t someone I will ever let walk away. Not fucking ever.”