Page 56 of The Grief We Hold

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

He looks at my bag and my exit. “You running out on Wraith?”

I almost laugh, because crying with embarrassment is the alternative. “You should ask him if he cares.”

And with that, I march away as best I can in the downpour.

18

WRAITH

“Ithink you blew that,” Atom says when he steps up next to me.

I’m a little dazed and confused. One minute, I’m standing in the armory, thinking all these conflicting thoughts about what happened last night. How the sex had been off-the-charts incredible. How it had felt amazing to be really intimate with a woman. To connect as more than just bodies. Yet waking with Raven in my arms, as good as it had been, had felt a lot like cheating on Hallie.

And the next minute, Raven is acting like a clingy bitch.

Which…

Fuck.

Hey, I got you some breakfast.

Reality smacks me in the face ten minutes too late. She wasn’t acting like a clingy bitch at all.

She brought me fucking food because I hadn’t eaten. Something Hallie would always nag me about. I’ve always just eaten when I’m really hungry. When I’m hungover or tired, I prefer a few cups of strong and sweet coffee in my gut before I add anything else to it.

Raven was caring for me. Looking after me when I’d left her alone in my bed. My behavior hadn’t changed hers at all.

And what didIdo? Took my confusion and dumped it all over her.

I rub a hand over my face and look at Atom. “Shut the fuck up.”

He chuckles. “What did she do? Try to pin down your ass?”

Smoke glances down at my jeans. “He’d need to have an ass for that. He’s been skipping glutes on his workouts.”

I flip him the bird.

“Just a tip,” Catfish says. “If she was anything more than a fuck, you should probably talk to her instead of yell at her across the clubhouse.”

Some of the old-timers’ old ladies look at me with a cross between empathy and sadness. Like they know what’s going on inside me.

Am I that transparent?

I feel like it’s a weakness for everyone to know your vulnerability.

In many ways, I’m feared. My size, the violent acts I’m perfectly happy to complete for my club. But being a widower is an Achilles heel. It makes people sympathize with me, and I want to ram that fucking sympathy down their throats.

Grudge steps into the bar. “Do you know why the little one from the diner is stomping her way down the driveway in the rain? Because she told me to come ask you.”

Atom points to me. “Wraith freaked out.”

Grudge looks my way. “You told her to get the fuck out? In this weather?”

“Y’all need to stop fucking looking at me like I grew two heads, or I’m gonna punch one of you,” I say.

“Fuck’s sake,” Catfish mutters.

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