Chapter 35
If you fuck up my girl, I swear to fuck, I’ll hurt you,” I growled. Okay, not my best fucking threat, but that didn’t make it any less valid. I never trusted anyone with my girl. She was mine, I was the only one to touch her, and she went everywhere with me.
Unfortunately, Declan was less than impressed. He rolled his eyes while he checked the straps one last time. My bike sat in the bed of his truck, tied down and ready for the trip back to Cedar Harbor.
“You don’t scare me, Killian,” Declan commented. “Throw a donut your way and everything’s fine.”
Fucking asshole. Accurate asshole but still an asshole.
“Think we can stop by the Waverly’s for cider donuts on our way in?” I asked. Who cared if I ate a few dozen donuts on my way into town? I fucking deserved them. The dread that ebbed and gnawed its way through me was all-consuming. The fact that I’d pulled out all the stops trying to stall this morning wasn’t helping.
Going back to Cedar Harbor permanently had me up in arms. My jeep was packed, my bike was squared away, and my heart was a fucking racehorse in my chest. Even my wolf was a raging mess. It had me so all over the place that I’d damn near forgotten to take my medication this morning, and then almost fucking left it behind. That would’ve been a fucking disaster.
Fuck, it wasn’t seeing Genevieve that had me worked up—even with deciding to win her back.
No, it was the whole damn nosy fucking town. Everyone was into everyone’s fucking business. And I hadn’t exactly left town on great terms. The fucking rumors alone. I groaned as I thought about it.
Fuck, I was the town villain. Well, the town’s former cop who beat his church-going wife but same thing.
Those kinds of rumors weren’t about to go away. Fuck, me running away would’ve only fueled them. God fucking dammit. I had so much work to do to repair my reputation all while saying absolutely fucking nothing about what the truth was because I couldn’t do that to Genevieve.
“It’ll be okay.” Declan’s voice tore me from my thoughts, and I glanced at him. “You look stressed.”
“I am stressed,” I said.
“And it’ll be okay.” He leaned against his truck, crossing his arms. “I can’t say it’ll be easy, but it’ll be okay.”
“The town fucking hates me,” I reminded him. “The pack fucking hates me. I’m thirty-one, jobless, and about to be living with my mom. Not sure what fucking part of that screams okay.”
“I don’t know,” Declan replied. “But it’s fucking brave. Not many people would do it.”
“Great,” I grumbled.
“What I mean is, not many people would have the drive or resilience to start over. Give yourself a break and breathe a little.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s hard as fuck,” Declan countered. “But you’re not alone. You’ve got us and Mom. The pack I think will come around pretty easy, especially with the Fall Games lining up with your arrival.”
I let out an indistinct sound. It wasn’t the whole pack I was worried about. Just one fucking member with a loud as shit mouth and a way of convincing people. Phillip Goodwin. Also known as my father-in-law. The town’s pastor. The fucking bane of my existence.
The man had no qualms with running at the mouth. Thanks to him, at least half the town believed I beat my wife. I’d never put a hand on her that she didn’t want.
The man destroyed my fucking life, and I let him. I let him with hopes my wife would stop him, but she never did. Not that I blamed her. Not really. The man was an abusive piece of shit, and Genevieve was the sweetest woman alive. He took advantage of that, and she didn’t know how to stand up to him. Me? I was just collateral damage.
The problem was, Phillip was a dog waiting for a bone. He hadn’t liked me from the start. I’d never been good enough for his daughter. Once he had his teeth in me, he never let go.
Fuck, he’d gone as far as to call the Ironwoods in a fucking attempt to get them to cut me off. Maverick put a stop to that shit real fucking fast by tearing him a new one.
But I wasn’t that guy anymore. I wasn’t a puppy with my tail between my legs. I didn’t lie down and take shit from anyone anymore. When the man came for me—and he would—I’d be ready.
“Are you listening to a single fucking word I’m saying?” Declan snapped his fingers in front of my face.
“Fall Games, my arrival, lined up,” I summed up, and he frowned. Whoops.
“That was three talking points ago,” he growled. “Get your ass in the car, Killian. We’re going home.”
“So… no donuts on the way?” I asked to ease the guilt of zoning out on him.
“No donuts.”
Damn it. I wanted fucking donuts.