Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)(45)

“Don’t do that,” I get out weakly.

“Don’t do what, admit he’s right?”

“Don’t push me away.” I hate how desperate my voice sounds.

“Why not? You heard my brother. I’ll only end up hurting you.”

“I don’t believe that,” I object.

“Well believe it, Kimber, because every f*cking word he said is the truth. I f*cking destroy everything, everyone who gets close to me.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re upset.” I try to keep my voice calm, knowing if I get angry it will only further worsen the situation.

“I’m saying it because it’s the f*cking truth.” His words tear through the air, their intensity causing me to take a step back.

“Fuck, Kimber.” He sighs, his voice dying down to just above a whisper as if he’s admitting defeat. “Go home.” He meets my gaze with a pained expression. “Just go home.” He turns without another word and walks away, leaving me standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

I watch as he gets further and further away, torn between whether or not I should go after him or leave him be. I’ve never seen him upset, and to say I know how he would react if I went after him is far from true.

It isn’t until he has completely disappeared from view that the reality of the situation seems to kick in. Spinning, I take off in the direction of the parking lot where his bike is, praying I can get there before he leaves.

It doesn’t matter what Trey said or even what Decklan said for that matter. I know him. Deep down I do. And I know he would never intentionally hurt me.

Tonight was proof that there’s so much more to Decklan than he lets people see. Behind his bad boy persona, the booze, motorcycles, and women, lies a man that wants more. I just don’t think he knows how to be that man just yet.

No matter what caused this rift between the two brothers, no matter the past, I’m not giving up on Decklan. He may be willing to just walk away without a fight, but I’m not so easily deterred from what I want.

And right now all I want is him.





Chapter Seventeen


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Decklan

The nearly two-hour drive back to Portland does nothing to calm the anger that has been boiling inside of me since my confrontation with Trey. His words, the way he looked at me, you’d think I’d be used to it after all these years but time hasn’t lessened the effect his hatred has on me.

It’s one thing to hate myself. It’s another thing entirely to have my only remaining sibling, someone I was extremely close to for most of my childhood, look at me with such disgust.

Then there’s Kimber.

I feel like such an * for just leaving her like that. She has nothing to do with any of this, yet I punished her as if she were somehow to blame.

I drop my helmet just inside the back door and immediately head for the bar. There’s only one thing I want right now and that’s to wash away tonight’s events with a nice bottle of whiskey.

Thankfully the bar is pretty dead. The last thing I want to do is deal with f*cking people right now. Sliding into a barstool at the end of the bar, I signal Matt who appears in front of me within moments, a glass in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He knows me well.

“You look like shit,” he observes, filling the glass to the rim before sliding it towards me. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” I grind out, draining the liquid in one long gulp. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Didn’t think you did,” he interjects.

Leaning forward, I snag the bottle of whiskey from his hand, gesturing for him to go. “I’m good here,” I say, refilling the glass in front of me.

Matt gives me a stiff nod before turning and walking away.

Emptying the contents of the glass once more, the familiar burn finds its way into the pit of my stomach. It seems to settle nicely there between my anger and regret.

****

“Decklan.” A faint familiar voice breaks into my fog. “Decklan.” The voice gets louder.

Lifting my head slowly from the bar, I spot Gavin just seconds before he slides down into the barstool next to me. It takes a moment for his face to come completely into view. I blink rapidly trying to clear my blurry vision.

“What the f*ck man?” He seems irritated though I’m not sure I understand why he would be. Tack it onto the list I guess.

“What?” My voice catches in my throat just as a sharp pain shoots through my temple causing me to groan in discomfort.

“What the f*ck are you doing here?” His question prompts me to look around at the brightly lit empty bar around me. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning.” He answers my question without me having to ask it. “Matt text me and said he left you here. Apparently he tried to get you to go upstairs, and you gave him a fat lip for his efforts.”

“Fuck.” I sigh, trying to piece together even a semblance of what happened last night.

“What’s going on, Deck?” His tone falls serious.

“Nothing.” I sway slightly when I attempt to stand.

“Don’t f*cking lie to me, dude. I’ve known you for far too long. Getting so drunk you punch one of our employees and then pass out with your head down on the bar is not your style. So try again.” He swivels his stool to face me when I finally manage to successfully plant both of my feet on the ground and push up into a stand.