Page 87 of The Good Girl

“You act like a slut,and that’s how people are going to treat you.”

“A biker? Really, Nevaeh, have you no self-respect?”

“Your sister, would never do something like this!”

“You write pornography? That’s what you’re throwing your life away for?”

“What do you mean you’re not coming home?”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. You’re acting like a petulant child.”

I look at Amity and offer her a weak smile. I’m glad I didn’t put him on speaker.

“He didn’t disown me, so there’s that,” I joke, but it falls flat.

She wraps her arm around me. “Give him some time to cool off.”

“I can give him all the time in the world, but it won’t change the fact that I’m not who he wants me to be.”

“That’s bullshit. Who else are you supposed to be?”

I close my eyes, not wanting to see the look of pity on her face. “Citlalli,” I say softly. “I think the only way to make him happy is if I were my sister.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Havoc

We’ve been back a week, and something’s off with Nevaeh. I can’t put my finger on it, and she’s not sharing, but some of her smiles feel forced, and I’ve caught her staring off into space with a sad look in her eyes more than once.

I watch her and Amity leave together and head for the restroom. I don’t understand why women have to pee in pairs––it’s one of life’s great mysteries, I guess. Not that I’m complaining. I know as long as Amity and Nevaeh are together, they’re safe.

“Alright, spill. What’s going on with Tinkerbell? Amity won’t tell me shit.”

“Neither will Nevaeh. I’ve tried talking to her, but she just shut me down.”

“Amity’s the same. It’s one of the things they have in common. You think it has to do with her real identity being leaked?”

I want to kick myself as soon as he says it. Of course, that’s it. I’m such a dick. I groan, making him chuckle.

“To be fair, you’ve been out of the game for a while. And with everything going on with Khan and your old club, you've had other things on your mind.”

“That’s no excuse. Nevaeh should be my priority.” I run my hands through my hair before pulling out my wallet and tossing some cash on the table for lunch and a tip.

“I don’t have social media,” I admit. It wasn’t allowed in prison, and honestly, it was probably for the best. It would have reminded me of the millions of people on the outside living their lives while I sat in a cell, regretting my choices.

“I do, hold on. I follow Amity, and I know she follows Tinkerbell. Let me do some digging,” he says, pulling out his phone as I glance over at the hall leading to the restrooms.

“Hmm.” The sound draws my attention back to him. He’s frowning at the screen, his lips pressed tight.

“What is it?”

“Well, Celeste has a lot of followers, and most of them are acting like it’s some big deal to know who she is. Some are even hoping she ends up with Ambros, but then romance readers are all about happy endings,” he mutters as he scrolls, and I glare at him.

He pauses and looks up at me. “Not that I’d know or anything. Just a wild guess.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you read, G. I care that half the world wants my girl with another man.”

“It’s the internet, Havoc––”

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