Fire Inside (Chaos #2)(79)

“Never said Chaos dealt drugs,” he shot back.

“Were drugs involved in your operations?” I retorted.

“Yes,” he clipped.

I leaned toward him. “Then we’re arguing about me saying tomatoes and you saying toe-mah-toes.”

“No, babe, we’re arguing about me laying the honesty on you, letting it all hang out, somethin’ you missed wasn’t real easy to do just as it wasn’t real easy to do the shit I used to do and I told you that too, and you passing judgment on me.”

“I just asked for time,” I reminded him.

“And I just told you, if you know what we got between us is real and you’re in it all the way with me, you don’t need that time.”

“I’m a fledgling old lady, Hopper. Give me a break,” I returned.

“You won’t be an old lady, Lanie, if you don’t give me one.”

My mouth dropped open.

That was it, my breaking point. I’d had enough and honestly, who could blame me.

I mean, really?

To communicate this, I shouted, “Fuck you!” and stomped to my clothes.

“Lanie—” Hop started.

“No, oh no!” I yelled, yanking on my jeans. “You do not get to throw my words in my face and then threaten to take away,” I jerked to standing and jabbed a finger at him, “you, which is the same exact f**king thing you lost it about when I did it.”

I went right back to dressing and was stalled in this effort when Hop gently pulled on my arm. I not-gently yanked it out of his grip and kept dressing.

“It wasn’t easy sharing that,” he stated, his voice more calm.

I sat on the bed to pull on my boots but cut my eyes to him. “And it wasn’t easy having my man lie on top of me and share it, having no f**king idea,” I shouted the last word, “he had that in his history. It wasn’t easy learning it. And you wanna know something, Hopper Kincaid?” I asked as I stood and snatched my purse from the bed where Hop obviously tossed it after High gave it to him.

I paused but not long enough for him to answer.

I gave it to him.

“It wasn’t easy to learn that a man, my man, the man I thought was a good man, doesn’t have it in him to understand I need,” I lifted up a hand, thumb and finger half an inch apart, “a wee bit of time to come to terms with some significant information about his past before we move on. That was the worst. So, newsflash, Hopper. Your old lady would have come to terms with it. But you not giving the woman who wants to be your old lady the opportunity to come to terms with it and prove her salt as an old lady means you aren’t going to have an old lady.”

And on that, I rushed to the chair, snatched up my jacket and stormed out.

Unfortunately, Hop was on my heels.

Equally unfortunately, Shy was in the back hallway looking at us in a way that I knew he didn’t miss me shouting. But, I noted with distracted surprise, even in the morning (or maybe especially in the morning), Shy was not with a girl. This was a surprise since it seemed he was always with a girl. He was young, he was hot, he was a badass and he used all that, frequently, to get laid. In fact, he was known for it and nicknamed “Shy” as a joke since he absolutely was not shy.

Even though these thoughts came to me, I ignored them and Shy.

“Lanie, goddamn it, slow down,” Hop growled.

“Fuck off,” I shot back, came to a halt in the common room and looked at High, who was behind the bar. “My car?”

“Block north, turn right, two blocks up,” High answered, his eyeballs shooting from Hop to me.

“Thank you. I’d kiss you if I wasn’t so ticked off so you’ll have to take a rain check,” I told him.

“Lookin’ forward to that,” High told me.

“Fuckin’ shit,” Hop snarled from behind me and I whirled on him.

“Have a good life, Hopper Kincaid,” I hissed then turned on my boot and dashed out.

I got halfway through the forecourt when I was swung around with a firm grip on my arm. I stopped by crashing into Hop’s body, whereupon both his arms clamped around me.

“You get this drama, babe, you got until the end of Tack’s meeting to burn it out, but mark this, Lanie. After that meeting, I don’t give a f**k if you’re strapped into a rocket to go to the goddamned moon, I’m findin’ you, we’re sortin’ this shit out and we’re movin’ on,” he warned.

“I just made a mental note to find a plastic surgeon who does emergency face alterations so you won’t know who to look for,” I shot back.

“Jesus, I’m pissed as all f**k and still she’s cute,” he groused like he wasn’t talking to me but actually complaining to the Son of God.

“Jesus works on Sunday, Hop. You want a direct line, time to haul your biker ass to church,” I shared.

“You want me to let you go so you can burn this out, you better stop bein’ cute, lady. You keep bein’ cute, I’ll kiss you in the goddamn forecourt and I won’t give a f**k who sees.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered.

“Are you going to let me go so I can burn this out?” I prompted.

“You gonna hide from me?” he asked.