Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(31)
I was contemplating hot-wiring a car because Lord knew I couldn’t afford a taxi. I couldn’t afford a f*cking cheeseburger. Not that hunger was something that bothered me. Not for food, at least.
I made my way through the crowd with a beeline for the ladies’ room. Most big life decisions were made in women’s bathrooms. My mind flickered back to that fateful night. Or, in my case, death decisions.
The ladies’ room was blessedly empty and surprised me with its cleanliness. I splashed some water on my face in an attempt to wash away the insects underneath my skin, but they were like my mascara, waterproof and not going anywhere.
I had another handful of seconds to myself before my peace was again shattered. Though I was loath to call it peace. Alone time wasn’t peace; it was the opposite. And in that handful of seconds, I realized what I was going home to. I was so desperate to escape company that I failed to understand the solitude that awaited me. Lily and Faith’s house filled with happy memories and ghosts. My hands started to shake. I honestly didn’t have enough faith in myself not to relapse. In fact, I had no faith in myself.
Get your shit together, Bex. You can do this. People do this every day. They beat it. It’s possible. You’re the one who got yourself into this, so get yourself out.
I braced my sweaty hands on the knees of my dress and sucked in a breath. A clean breath. My mind might have been close to cracking, my little demon aching to be broken out, but I was clean. I was sober. So help me God I was going to stay that way.
I may or may not lose my shit along the way. I just had to get through Lily’s wedding night without making it all about me and my ugliness, then I’d be home free.
Or home, chained to the confines of my addiction.
Straightening, I left the stall and was about to exit the bathroom when the door burst open and precisely the last person I wanted to see in this state walked through it.
I straightened my spine in an outwards gesture of strength, or at least defiance. Inwards I was a f*cking mess. “This is the ladies’ room,” I snapped at Lucky. “I know we’re in a compound full of alpha animals who think they own the Earth, but women’s bathrooms are a sacred space which no male shall breach unless he wants to suffer the consequences.”
Lucky, for once, didn’t grin. In fact, he hadn’t grinned the entire night. His watchful gaze had been glued to me, prickling the edges of my hairline with its intensity. I’d tried to ignore it, just like I’d tried to ignore the way multiple scantily glad girls sidled up to him. I didn’t judge those girls. Not for a moment. It was obvious what they were to Lucky, to the club. Some people would call them whores—the same people who would call me a white trash junkie, I guessed. I called them survivors. So I didn’t judge them, as they were my sisters in a way. Women on the fringes of society who didn’t live the way they were ‘supposed’ to. But I hated them. Not for what they were to the club, but what they were to Lucky. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion I was familiar with, but it was bitter and toxic and made me want the needle even worse than before.
Lucky advanced on me and I barely had time to retreat, my back smashing against the wall beside the basin. His bulging arms rested on either side of me, caging me in.
“You need to back the f*ck up,” I said, my voice shaking.
Hazel eyes seared into me. “You need to tell me what’s going on,” he rumbled, his voice vibrating through my spine.
I sucked in a breath. “Well, currently, a biker with the manners of a Chihuahua has waltzed into a bathroom which is reserved for the opposite sex and accosted me,” I snapped.
He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t sass your way out of this shit, babe. I’m not f*ckin’ blind.” His eyes flickered up my body and I felt heat with his gaze, although it wasn’t sexual, more pensive. “No matter how f*ckin’ hot you are, you can’t hide it. The weight that’s fallen off you… Jesus, I’m afraid a stiff breeze will topple you. You’ve been hidin’ it, faking it with me. But you’re not getting better. Shit behind your eyes is dark. Dark enough it scares the f*ckin’ shit outta me. Takes a lot to scare me, Becky. So you’re gonna tell me what’s got the dark behind those eyes so I can kill whoever’s responsible.”
Despite myself, I let out a cold giggle.
“This isn’t funny,” he ground out.
I swallowed my laugh. “Yeah, it is. It’s f*cking hilarious,” I hissed, leaning forward so our noses almost touched. “You want to kill the person responsible for this?” I gestured down at my body. “Get your piece out now, then. You’ve got your villain.”
He froze. “What the f*ck are you talking about?”
I used all of my laughable strength to put my hands on his chest and shove him away. I didn’t move him much, just enough for me to duck under his arm and put some much needed distance between us. He frowned at me but didn’t advance again, merely held his body taut.
“You’ve got some warped idea in that bald head of yours that you’ve got some claim on me. That we’re something. That thought process needs to stop. Right now,” I ordered.
He grinned at me, though it wasn’t the same carefree grin that seemed to live on his face. It was something different, something I put there. Another thing to hate myself for. “We are somethin’, firefly. You know it. I knew it the moment I saw that sweet ass on stage. Knew it was mine then too.”