Page 62 of Filthy Savage

Shaking my head, I turn to face them, my eyes wide, and I know that I must look crazy, but I feel crazy, so at least if I do, I match inside and out. I hold my breath for a moment.

“Gnaw knew who she was. He didn’t tell me, but he knew. And this is Brew’s home. She knew where he lived. As much as I would love to believe that this was just some crazy woman with wild ideas. I want to visit my brother, and then I’m going home.”

“Spencer,” Ryan whispers. “Brew will fix this. I know he will.”

My lips curve up into a smile, although it’s a sad one. “I love that you believe in him,” I whisper. “I love that all of the men you have are so good to you. But I’m not any of you. I’m Spencer Maddison, and good things do not just simply happen to me.”

Kyle snorts, but it’s Ryan who speaks. “Spencer,” she whispers, “you know damn well that we’re all in the same boat, every single one of us. Don’t act like we haven’t all suffered.”

Guilt consumes me because I know that Ryan has had her fair share of shit in her life, and I’m sure Shawn and Kyle have, too. I shouldn’t have said that. I open my mouth to apologize, but Shawn speaks before I can. Her voice washes over me, and she calms me.

“I don’t think Spencer meant anything by what she said. She wasn’t thinking of anyone else. Just herself and her hurts, right?”

Nodding once, I clear my throat. “I was thinking of myself. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just upset,” I whisper as I walk back over to the sofa and sink down on the cushion. I curve my palm against my forehead and close my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Ryan lifts her hand and waves me away. “It’s fine,” she says, and both Shawn and Kyle agree, accepting my apology.

“I’m just honestly… disappointed. In Brew, but most importantly in myself.”

“In yourself?” Ryan asks.

Sliding my hand from my forehead, I curl my fingers around the front of my throat, closing my eyes and letting out a heavy sigh before I explain myself. And I feel like a gigantic idiot as I do.

“I fell in love with Brew when I was sixteen years old, maybe even before then. I’ve always loved him. I lost my virginity to him, and then he acted like I didn’t exist. I was silly, and I knew that I was too young and he was too drunk,” I whisper.

I’m not sure if my speech is more for them or for myself. These are things I’ve thought about before, but saying them out loud holds a different meaning—a different power. I continue.

“However, when this second chance rolled around, a smirk and wink was all I needed to fall all over again. Or maybe I never stopped falling. I may be almost thirty, but that doesn’t mean I’m mature or grown in any kind of way.”

“You’re mature,” Ryan whispers. “You’ve got a great career and a fancy car. You’re a good sister and a good friend. You’re a good woman. And I think you just need to talk to him.”

I can see I will get nowhere here. They don’t know who this mysterious woman is as much as I do. So, instead of arguing or crying, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I decide to stop.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him,” I whisper.

“Come to the bakery tomorrow?” Shawn asks. “Bring your computer. Get out of the house and hang out with us.”

Inwardly, I am screaming no. I don’t want to hang out at the bakery. I want to go home. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I give her a smile and nod once. “Okay. That sounds like fun,” I whisper.

Shawn and Ryan burst out laughing. “It doesn’t,” Ryan says. “But it will keep you busy, and who knows, maybe you and Ophelia can take lessons again with Bren and the girls.”

With that, we all burst out into laughter. Mine is fake, but I play the part. I just need to get through the week so I can visit my brother and then do what I do best and run far away from here.

I vow to never step foot in Pineville again after this. I am done with this place, and if I could, if he would listen, if he would allow it, I would take Humble with me when he gets out of there. If it were up to me, he would never step foot in Pineville again, either. That place has done absolutely nothing for us.

Once the girls believe they’ve done their jobs and convinced me to stay, they leave me alone again. I wave at them as they drive away. When their car is completely out of view, I turn my head and then my body to face Gnaw.

“Take me to the motel now, please,” I demand.

His cheery demeanor immediately fades away—vanishes. I watch as his shoulders drop, and then he grunts before jerking his head toward the pickup truck, which I hadn’t noticed.

Looking behind me, I suddenly realize that Rim has replaced Guts. There is only one bike here, so he must have brought the pickup. Without asking me what I want, Gnaw lifts my bag and places it in the bed of the truck.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Where are we going?”

His lips lift slightly. “The motel, Spencer.”

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