Page 75 of Where We Promise

His jaw tensed, and it looked like a muscle was jumping in it as he released me and stepped back.

“Answer me, Jamie. How come you never fought for me?”

He opened his mouth, closed it and then took a step toward me, but right as he did, the servers brought our food out.

“Let’s just eat, Pen.”

I didn’t feel like eating. I felt like fighting.

I just wished Jameson felt the same.

TWENTY-TWO

JAMESON

AGE TWENTY-THREE

I waited to hear from Penelope for three days.

She’d been home because I was watching her driveway like a hawk. I saw her come and go, all smiles and raw beauty. She wore her hair in loose braids, and a photography bag slung over her shoulder. She’d started working again and had been slowly building back up her portfolio. She hadn’t told me any of this, it was all through eavesdropping on Wanda’s conversation with Gene and by watching her.

I watched her every single chance I had.

So, if she was going to respond to my letter then she would have. However, the last time I had done something like this, she waited two weeks to reply so maybe I needed to give her time.

I went back to the club and went through the motions. It wasn’t until later that night that I saw Penelope finally walk through the club doors and my heart felt like it was given a set of wings. Unfortunately, it was too late to realize they were punctured with holes.

Pen walked right past me, that blinding smile in place, and threw her arms around Luke’s neck. He pulled her up off the ground and stuck his nose in her neck while she squealed. People clapped…Wanda was one of them.

I felt like my chest was on fire as I watched them whisper to each other.

Then they kissed.

Wanda’s gaze cut across the room to me, and her frown told me all I needed to know.

Pen didn’t choose me.

I’d waited too long and I’d missed my chance.

I turned away from the scene and made my way outside, found my bike and left. I had no idea where I was going, I just knew I couldn’t stay. I knew this would eventually happen; it’s why I had pushed her away so often, but she was supposed to leave the club. She was supposed to get out of this life, not choose Luke.

Anyone but fucking Luke.

TWENTY-THREE

EIGHT MONTHS AGO

“You ever going to start hanging around your club again?” Luke asked, tipping his beer back. He had been here at the shop a lot lately, and frankly, it was starting to piss me off. He had her, and they had the club.

Everyone fawned over Penelope and Luke, over their love and how she’s the perfect old lady for him. How good she looks in her cut, how she’s so pretty and perfect. How cute their place is over on First Street. How they’re planning to get married.

Bull—fucking—shit.

I’d withstood them for nearly two years being an official couple, and I’d done a decent job of avoiding the club since then too. I’d bought my first house, devoted all my time to flipping it, then sold it for three times what I paid. Then I invested in more real-estate, now I owned my own garage and a few sets of apartments. No one knew I was doing all this shit on the up and up, or that it was the only reason I still had my sanity.

Lifting my head from the hood of the Corvette I was working on, I stared at my vice president. “Why the hell are you here, again?”

“Jesus, calm down.” Luke held up his hands. “You’re just never around anymore, you left me in charge of everything, and I have a right to ask if you plan on coming around again.”

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