Fire Inside (Chaos, #2)(79)



A blow and a dirty one.

“That’s not fair,” I said quietly.

“It’s not only fair, it’s real and you know it,” he returned. “My brothers fought, bled and died for you to have this family, lady. You can’t get in my face weeks ago about bein’ nonjudgmental and then stand here in my room and my tee and force your judgment on me. Even if that shit was me and I found redemption, it’s not anymore and, you’re the woman I thought you were, you’d be down with that but, like I’ve explained, it never f*ckin’ was.”

It stunk but he had a point.

“Since we’re letting it all hang out,” I started to suggest, “perhaps we should revisit Benito.”

“Said all I’m gonna say about that motherf*cker,” Hop replied.

“Is that old life over?” I asked.

“Told you it was,” he answered.

“Then who’s Benito?”

“Scum that wants a slice of Chaos territory. Problem with that, he eats that slice, he’ll want more. So you hold him back.”

“And how do you do that?”

“For you, babe, I said more about that motherf*cker but now I’ve said all I’m gonna say.”

Again, we stood there staring at each other in silence until I broke it.

“I need time to process all I learned today.”

“You got two seconds,” he returned instantly. “You take more than two seconds to walk your ass over here and put your arms around me, accepting me for who I am despite what I used to do, we got problems.”

Oh God.

“What kind of problems?”

“The kind of problems that come from me knowin’ you lied. Me knowin’ you judge. And I don’t want that shit in my life or around my kids.”

Was he crazy?

“Hop!” I snapped. “You just told me you were an enforcer and Chaos dealt drugs and prostituted women.”

“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*cking 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*cking 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.

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