Page 77 of Kneeling to Candy

My anger rejuvenated, I explode. “Property?! I’m your property now? You’ve had ample opportunities to claim me as your old lady, and you did it by recruiting your brothers to move my shit in here without my consent? Without a discussion between the two of us?”

Ziggy backhands Butch in the chest. “See? What did I say earlier?”

Ignoring his brother, Butch rubs where Ziggy smacked him. He arches an eyebrow at me. “Oh, so you would like to have a discussion before making big decisions?”

There’s a challenge in his voice, and I stupidly disregard it.

“Who wouldn’t? You moved me in without asking. A massive oversight on your part, even if you were tired of waiting for me to make the move myself.”

My biker pushes forward, meeting me in the middle of the room. His eyes flash with something acute to fury.

“No more of an oversight than volunteering to go undercover in a sting operation where you’ll confront one of your abusers without filling me in first,” Butch counters, his voice rougher than normal and heavy with emotion. “Double standard, if you ask me.”

Well, crap. I stepped right in it.

“Told you so,” Ebony whispers behind me, amusement in her voice.

“Shut up,” I angrily hiss back at her.

Punk nudges Red with his elbow, a goofy grin plastered on his face. “This is getting intense.”

She shushes him, almost like she’s engrossed in a soap opera featuring me and Butch. All she needs is some popcorn and a box of tissues.

This is not how I envisioned having this crucial confrontation with my biker—in a bedroom with a good chunk-size of the crew as witnesses. Being the center of attention has never bothered me. However, having mine and Butch’s relationship be the center of attention is a whole other level of uncomfortable. I don’t like all the eyes on us as we put each other on blast.

I also don’t see how we can avoid it—the crew is already in the room.

Fine. I’ll deal with it like a woman.

This past year has taught me to get used to stepping out of my comfort zone. And if this move is in retaliation for not confiding in Butch of my plans first, I can swallow my pride and apologize first.

Ignoring all the eyes on me, I square my shoulders and give Butch my full attention.

“You’re right. I made a massive decision without talking with you first, especially after our discussion regarding our relationship last night. I’m sorry.”

Butch rocks back on his heels, caught off guard. Clearly, he didn’t think I had it in me to admit my faults, this openly or bluntly.

“Whoa,” Ziggy murmurs, verbalizing the shock everyone else seems to share.

It’s rare if I apologize for anything, and it may never happen again, given my record.

“Y—You,” Butch stutters, pointing a finger at me. “You said sorry.”

“Don’t get too used to it,” I warn, fidgeting in place. “Lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

This public display of remorse is awkward. When my therapist instructed me to get comfortable being uncomfortable when expressing myself, I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it with an audience present.

As embarrassed as I am, I press on.

“I understand I blindsided you and hurt your feelings,” I continue, cringing internally with each apologetic word passing my lips. “However, your reaction to me volunteering was excessive and insulting.”

“She’s not wrong. You were a straight-up dick,” Ziggy says to Butch, coming to my defense.

Butch gives Ziggy a look that screams, Stay out of it.

Using my fingers, I count all the ways Butch did me dirty in Atlas’s office.

“One, you tried to bully me into retracting my offer. Two, you said there were other people in the crew better for the job, when I’m the only one who’s experienced what we’re facing. Three, you suggested I’d wilt under the pressure. Four, I wasn’t emotionally competent enough to face my abuser.”

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