Page 24 of Piston

His eyes are conflicted. He’s proud, but he doesn’t want to be, and I sigh, giving him a subtle shake of my head while Acid finally turns the conversation away from me, meaning I get to eat my meal quietly.

A few hours later, I’ve just finished helping Canine put the dishes away when he speaks.

“I’m proud of you, so’s Piston,” he says, and I look at him.

“He doesn’t want to be, though, does he?” I confirm, and he sighs, looking out the window where Piston is sitting with Acid, having a beer before we leave, though we’ll be going separate ways.

My none-orgasm night and feeling dirty have been canceled. Steal messaged that he needed Piston’s help with something technical, and he’s the only one who can help, being a tech genius and all that.

A part of me wishes he’d look into my medical records to find the truth, while the other part of me, the sane one, knows there’s nothing to fight for between us.

We were a fling and should have gone our separate ways a long time ago, but now we’re stuck. Married.

He doesn’t love me, even though I fell in love with him in college. That love never fades, but the disappointment in him grows daily.

Maybe I should have just told him about his father….

“You’re keeping something from him,” Canine admits, and I look at him. He gives me a sad smile. “I don’t know what, but I know it’s big.” He walks over to me, cups my cheek, and admits, “Unlike my nephew, I used his computer and looked into you.” I wince, and he nods. “Yeah, I know about your upbringing, being dropped off on your father's doorstep in a bassinet, being abused by your stepmother….” My eyes tear up when I see the sorrow in his, and I know he knows, his words confirming it. “And I know about the miscarriage, which is why I’ve been fighting in your corner these past two years. You’re in love with him, Nat, and I get you are probably scared of commitment because of your childhood, but I don’t understand why you are holding back from him. Why did you lie? What happened, sweetheart?”

I swallow hard, stepping back, when I hear the backdoor open. The boys walk in but freeze when they see me and Canine.

I smile before kissing his cheek, mumbling, "It doesn’t matter anymore. He made his mind up about me despite spending three years with me. Thank you for dinner.”

That said, I turn and go into the living area, the yellow and cream flower wallpaper catching my attention behind the fireplace, and I smile a little, because that is so Holly.

I kiss both Holly and Meredith on the cheek, promising to attend dinner next month, knowing I won’t be able to get out of it, especially with Holly’s Parkinson’s getting worse. I grab my bag by the front door, putting my flats back on. With one last wave, I leave the house, my eyes taking in the several properties, all different shapes and sizes, on club property before they land on the log house in the far corner. Piston’s house. The house I’ll never be welcome in.

I may love him, but he doesn’t love me.

We’ve been married for two years, and I have not once stepped foot in his house, and I don’t even wear the cut he gave me.

Shaking my head, I grab my car door when I hear the front door open again,hisvoice ringing out.

“So, you have a new job, you don’t want kids, and you’re not living in the apartment I bought you,” Piston says, and my shoulders drop in defeat. I didn’t get away quick enough. Huffing, I turn my head his way.

He stands near his bike, his arms crossed over his chest, looking angry.

I shrug. “I never asked for that apartment, Piston. It’s basically our once a monthyou get your rocks offplace, that’s it—and don’t act surprised that you don’t know about my job, because you know nothing about my life outside of the bedroom. We never talked in college; that was the agreement, remember? So why would we talk now? Heck, you probably don’t even know my favorite color.”

I open my door, more carefully this time, my shoulder hurting from earlier, and climb in.

He speaks again before I can shut the door, shutting him out.

“Where are you staying, Natalie?” he demands.

I give him a brow raise and state, “You don’t get to know where I live, Piston. I trapped you, remember?”

His jaw ticks, but I ignore it and shut my door, buckling in.

Without looking at him, I start my car and turn it around on the road, tears stinging my eyes, wishing for the boy from college to come back and hold me.

I drive away just as the first tear falls.

8

Piston

I narrow my eyes as my fingers fly across the keyboard, trying to decode the government security system, and break through its firewalls for the second time this evening.

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