Page 46 of Smooth As Whiskey

But did it really matter?

My bike or her...

No... there was no comparison.

I thought about doing it, even backed and revved my engine to do it, until I saw something and then looked down at my chest.

A red dot was hovering center fucking mast.

I dropped my head, then sighed, then whispered, “I’ll be back. I’m going to win you back, baby.”

I found a hotel and got a room, and then I crashed.

Unfortunately, I was only able to get about four hours of sleep because I woke up while remembering the look on Sutton’s face as I hurled that shit at her.

After I showered and got dressed, I packed up the room, checked out, and headed back.

I sat on my bike in the blistering sun for six hours.

I felt eyes on me, but I didn’t move.

Sutton knew a lot about me.

But she didn’t know how stubborn I could be when I really wanted something.

I had just taken a sip of water when I saw movement.

Sutton.

My world.

My heart.

She reached the gate, put her hands on her hips, and asked, “If I hear you out, will you leave?

I nodded, “Yeah. Please, baby.”

She sighed and then waved her hand.

The gate started to move then, and as I walked my bike in, she said, “Follow me.”

I did.

When we stopped at a brick building, I dismounted and then followed her in.

All six men were sitting there, their weapons on the tables, just waiting.

I warned them, “I won’t stand still for y’all to shoot me. But I will for Sutton.”

Sutton scoffed, then rolled her eyes, mumbling, “Yeah, fucking right.”

Fuck. But I had broken her. She never would have reacted to me like that.

“Where’s Maisie?” she asked.

And that.

That right there was why I had been one dumb fucking son of a bitch.

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