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Chapter 3

CHAPTER

THREE

SPENCER

Standing in front of Brew as a whole grown-ass woman now, I can’t believe I still feel anything for him—but I do. How ridiculous of me to have feelings for someone who rejected me the way he did. Who hurt me the way he did.

I want him to kiss me.

Right here—right now.

He’s promising me they’ll take care of Humble, and I want to believe him. But these are the people who put him there. How can they take care of anything when it’s their fault in the first place?

His hands cup my cheeks. I fight hard against sliding my eyes closed and parting my lips in a lame attempt to be flirty and silently demand a kiss. Because with his hands on me like this, with his eyes focused on mine?

I want it.

I want him.

But I won’t do it.

I can’t.

My heart cannot take more rejection from this man. And yet, I want nothing more than his mouth and hands on every inch of my body. The memory of him has not faded. It’s all in the front of my mind. It’s all I can think about.

“He’s not all you have, beautiful,” Brew murmurs. “You got this whole club. You might have walked away from your life here, but you are still family to us.”

I hate that—because, deep down, I kind of love it.

I don’t want to be family with these people. I don’t want to be associated with them at all. They can all fuck off. At least, that’s what I tell myself over and over again in an attempt to convince myself that I despise them all.

“That’s not something I want,” I state. The lie rolls off my tongue easily.

Brew’s brows lift, and his hands fall from my cheeks at my words. I hate that. I wish he would still touch me, and yet, at the same time, I want nothing to do with him.

I’ve never felt this conflicted in my whole life, but I knew that this was the way it would be when I finally saw Brew again. Another reason I avoided coming home for the last decade.

“And why is that?” he asks, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Seriously?” I snort. “Because being part of your family lands your ass in jail. So I’m good.”

Brew growls and leans forward slightly, his face just inches from mine. “Stop bein’ a bitch, babe.”

“Fuck you,” I snap, my eyes widening in surprise that I’ve said what I did.

He straightens, a smile on his face as he lets out a chuckle. “Already did that, Spencer.”

Enough. I have had enough.

Taking a step backward, I lift my chin and look down my nose at him. “I’m going back to the motel. You’ll let me know if you find anything new. But I’m not going to hold my breath.”

Turning my back to him, I start to walk to my car when I hear him call out for me. Stopping, I turn my head and look over my shoulder at him. He jerks his chin toward me, a smile playing on his lips.

“I know you’re pissed, but you’ll get over it.”

“It’s been ten years, Brew. I’m obviously not over it.”

I don’t expect him to laugh at my words, but that’s exactly what he does, and it pisses me right off. I stomp my foot and make a noise of frustration in the back of my throat. This man is infuriating. I want to slap him and kiss him at the same time, and I hate that.

I try to ignore his beautiful face when he smiles, his white teeth, his dark beard, his strong-as-shit body.

God, I think he’s even more muscular than he was ten years ago.

It’s not fair.

He’s only gotten sexier as he’s aged, too. Since he’s over forty now, it’s really not fair at all. He should have turned into a potbellied, balding man by now, not hotter than ever.

“And you’re still pissed off about it, which means you give a shit, Spence. Take the night to cool off and have a drink with Ophelia. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I open my mouth to tell him to screw off or something of that sort, but he doesn’t allow me to say a word. Instead, he spins around and walks back into the clubhouse, leaving me standing in the hot gravel parking lot with my mouth open like a fish out of water.

Stomping my foot again, I let out a huff and stomp to my car door. I hate the fact that I don’t hate him. I want to. But I can’t. He’s beautiful, his smile is still amazing, and his rich laughter makes my entire body tremble. Traitorous body.

As angry as I am at the situation, I do know they care. They love Humble. They don’t want him locked away. It’s not like they sacrificed him or threw him under the bus. I just really hate that he was put in this position. I wish he had never joined this stupid club. Then he wouldn’t be in jail—but at the same time, it could be worse.

Sinking down into the driver’s seat of my car, I stare at the closed clubhouse door, wondering, not for the first time, what my life would have been like had I stayed or maybe had I come back to Pineville directly after college.

I’d probably still be single, alone, and pining over that man. And he’d be himself, screwing women left and right, especially as hot as he is. So… exactly where I am now in my life. And likely exactly where he is, too. With a heavy sigh, I back away and drive off the property.

I try really hard not to think about the what-ifs.

I don’t need to think about that at all.

As I turn onto the county road that heads back to town, back to my motel room, I put in a search for a charging station. There is only one, which is at a truck stop at the very edge of town. I’m actually a little shocked that there is one anywhere near Pineville. I thought for sure I would have to drive to the next town.

It doesn’t take me long to get there. I pull into the truck stop and begin charging my car, taking that time to check my email. I have a few professional correspondences—a new client request and several current clients who need me to work on some items.

Thankfully, I’m fully caught up on my back projects, so I can go to the motel, get these done in a few hours, and then I’ll be ready for a new day. I’ve been diligent about staying on top of things since starting my own business and always looking forward to starting fresh the next day.

Except now, thinking about a new day makes me think of Humble and how he’ll be waking up in a jail cell alone. Caged like an animal.

I hate this.

Tears fill my eyes and begin to fall as I think about my brother. I don’t want him in that place, and I’ve been a bitch to him. He’s all I have, and I haven’t been the best sister I can be. I could have been better. I could have been kinder.

I ran away from Pineville and Brew, but I also ran away from Humble. I haven’t seen him for the holidays, and I haven’t spent enough time with him. Phone calls and text messages only go so far, and I’ve been a shit sister.

Brew has a right to feel some kind of way about the situation—about me. From the outside, I look like the shit sister I am. There’s no way around it. But that’s all going to change. If nothing else, this has woken me up to my part in all of this. I shouldn’t care what kind of life Humble leads as long as he’s good to me, and he is—undoubtedly, unwaveringly.

Once my car is recharged and my thoughts are organized, I head back to the motel. I should probably get some food before I retire to the room for the night, but then I remember the box of sweets waiting for me and decide to just eat dessert for dinner.

I’m not really feeling like eating actual food tonight, anyway. I just want to curl into a ball and cry. This did not turn out the way I wanted it to. I wanted to walk into that place like a badass and tell those guys exactly what I thought about them.

But Brew wouldn’t let me, and when I tried, he just told me to cool off. I hate that. I don’t want to cool off. I want to tell him how much he pisses me off. I want to be mad. But I’m not anymore.

I’m tired.

Exhausted even.

brEW

That woman is completely fucking spicy, and I want nothing more than to fuck the bitch right out of her. It’s clear to me that she’s got some pent-up aggression. I have a feeling it’s going to be a damn good fucking time.

It’s going to happen, too.

Seeing her again, and the way I felt the moment I touched her face. Fuck me, but I need to be inside of her. I shouldn’t have let her go the first time. I won’t make that fucking mistake again.

She wasn’t mine to have ten years ago. She was still finding herself, but beyond that, she was far too fucking young for me. And I think Clink might have actually killed me had he discovered us. I know I would have if the tables were turned.

It should have never happened. It wasn’t right, and I felt like a piece of shit for a long time after it all went down. Not just a piece of shit, but I felt like a pervert. It shouldn’t have ever gone that far. She wasn’t even eighteen yet, and I was a goddamn full-fledged adult.

I still can’t believe it happened.

Drunk or not, I shouldn’t have done it. I woke up the next morning, saw her beside me, and winced at the sight. She was so fucking beautiful lying there, and I’d treated her like one of the clubwhores—I’d used her body for my own self-gratification.

I was filled with regret, but I was also the happiest I’d ever been in my fucking life, a contradiction I couldn’t process—still quite can’t. I could sit and analyze it every day for the rest of my life. Think and categorize why I did what I did, but there’s no sense in it.

“You look really fucking pathetic sitting over here nursing that beer,” Atomic grumbles next to me.

Turning my head slowly, I look at my brother. “Don’t feel like drinking.”

“Clink or his sister?”

“Both,” I grunt.

He chuckles. I shift in my seat uncomfortably, my gaze finding his when he doesn’t say anything else.

“Clink’s shit isn’t looking good,” he rasps, his voice low so that nobody else can hear. “They got him on shit that we cannot make disappear. It was in progress. So, he’s seriously fucked. Best they can do is probably a plea deal, hopefully get less time for that.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. “Spencer is going to lose her shit.”

He jerks his head in a single move. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “She will.”

“So there’s no way at all for him to get out of it?”

Atomic shakes his head a couple of times. “They want to make an example out of him, out of us.”

Fuck.

Of course, they do.

Because why wouldn’t they? Crossing state lines the way he did, the way I mapped and planned for him to. Fuck. The guilt absolutely consumes me.

“I’ll take care of Spencer,” I say.

Atomic laughs. “I’m sure you will. She’s looking good, especially behind the wheel of that fancy little Tesla. She’s done well for herself.”

“She has,” I grunt.

I really don’t want to have this conversation with him or anyone else. I want to drink the rest of this beer, go upstairs, and pass the fuck out. Tomorrow is a new day. A new day to work on Spencer. I don’t think I can let her leave again for ten more years. Not without the promise of her return. However that looks—whatever that means.

“You don’t want to talk about it, but you’re going to have to face it, Brew.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Standing up from the barstool, I leave my beer on the bar and walk away from my brother. I can hear him laugh behind me, but I ignore him. As I walk down the hallway, I ignore everyone as I make my way toward my room.

I’m surprised to find Firecracker standing next to my door. Stopping in front of her, I tilt my head to the side as her gaze lifts to meet mine. I arch a brow, waiting for her to speak, but she only gives me a sad smile.

“I was thinking about Clink,” she murmurs.

“No, you weren’t.”

She shrugs a shoulder. “It is upsetting.”

“But that’s not why you’re in front of my door, babe.”

“It’s not why I’m in front of your door,” she says, repeating my words, confirming my statement.

I think about taking her inside and fucking my frustration out on her, but then an image of Spencer flashes in front of my eyes, and I decide against it. I need to be alone tonight. I need to think about how I’m going to approach this situation with her.

How do I not make her fucking hate everything about me?

“Not tonight, babe,” I mutter, brushing past her into my room.

“Just find me if you need me,” Firecracker says, her voice sounding small, almost far away and hopeful.

Turning my head as I step into my room, I look over my shoulder at her. “Fire?” I ask. She lifts her chin slightly, her eyes finding mine. “Trust me, not you, babe. It’s me. It’s just a lot.”

She nods once, then disappears down the hall. Only when she’s gone do I close and lock the door behind me. Making my way over to the window, I look out at the grounds. There isn’t much to see now that the sun has set. It’s not like we have a lot of lighting out here, but I don’t give much of a fuck because my mind goes back to Spencer.

Her eyes, her smile, her body. I can’t stop thinking about her. I want her. Not just for a night—I want to keep her.

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