Page 8 of Filthy and Dirty with the Bikers

How?Less than twelve hours ago he was screaming at me, belittling me, refusing to look at me when I was crying my heart out, desperate for affection.

This man has not changed.The words are on repeat in my head, reminding me of how truly broken I am.

“Yeah.” I wrinkle my brows and hold my hand over my temples. My head is pounding all the sudden. “Isn’t the game still on?”

“The Raiders are killing us, so it’s not really a game anymore. Besides, I miss you. Tell me about your day. How are you feeling? What are you reading? Did I see you leave earlier? Where did you go?”

I could probably pretend to go to the grocery store, never come home, and he wouldn’t notice until dinner time.

“Therapy. Dr. Beck moved my session to today.”

He narrows his heavy brows. “A Sunday? That’s weird. I thought doctors liked their weekends.”

“He has a busy week, so he made time for me.” That’s a lie. I called his emergency line and asked for the appointment, which I’ve never done and I’m still feeling guilty about, but I needed a voice of absolute reason right now. That said, I’m not sure why I don’t tell Tyler that. Where I was this afternoon doesn’t matter anymore.

I tuck the book into the bedside table and grab a berry off the tray that he settles onto the bed. “Sorry the game is shit.”Why am I small talking?I hate small talk. “So, I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you all day about something.” My stomach tightens and my breathing gets shallow.Why did I tell him I need to talk?I was going to leave a letter. I was going to run. It was my plan. The plan I paid loads of money to make… with a professional.

I’m spinning out.

“Sure.” He smiles and grabs a berry for himself before tucking his shoulder beneath the pillow on his side of the bed. His beard is short and scruffy, and his Broncos jersey is stained with something red and sticky. He’s never really been the type to take care of himself particularly well. “What’s up?”

I contemplate an alternate story, but nothing comes to mind. Instead, a flurry of movements scratch at my legs. This man screamed at me all night last night over my need for reassurance. He watched me cry and he couldn’t conjure a single emotion. He believes that his value is the only value that matters.And now, he’s here with chocolate and a fake smile trying to make it all better?

Frustration and anger rattle through me like a train pulling into Grand Central with busted brakes. I stand from the bed, toss the berry back onto the tray, tuck my phone into the pocket of my hoodie, then pull the backpack from under the bed. Holden had me pack a go-bag a few months ago in case I needed to leave in a hurry. I was also supposed to plan two escapes from every room in the house. This room, I’d leave through the doorway or the ground level window behind me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tyler’s tone changes as though the mask he was wearing has slipped.

“I’m leaving.” I toss the note on the bed and pop open the window behind me. He hasn’t stood yet, so I think I could make it to the front door, but I don’t want to chance anything, not right now. Right now, I need to crawl out this window and start running for the woods. The snow is heavy, but there’s still visibility. I pull out my boots and slip them on quickly as my hand shakes, then pop open the window, and start climbing.

“What are you doing?” His tone is sarcastic, and I think I sense laughter.

I don’t stop to answer. I just keep going, climbing one foot over the other into the frigid cold. I’ve never left like this before,so I’m not sure what to expect, but he doesn’t do anything. He just sits there and laughs, watching me snag my jacket on the windowsill, then fall into the snowbank like a fumbling idiot.

“You always have been a dramatic bitch, haven’t you?” he groans and shuts the window. “You’ll be back.”

I want to scream and tell him I won’t be back! That, in fact, I’m gone for real this time. I want to yell until I’m blue in the face that I’m not ever turning back again, but what good what that do me? Instead, I push out of the snowbank and up onto my feet, trudging down the dimly lit driveway toward the headlights at the edge of the forest as I dial Holden.

He picks up on the first ring. “Where are you?” he asks as his voice wraps me like a warm blanket.

“I’m on the edge of the woods, walking toward Rhett’s headlights. I got out.”

“He’s not following you?”

I glance back at the little cabin I once thought I’d grow a family in. The little place I picked out with Tyler on a day I swore we’d be together forever. “Nope. He’s not moving at all.” I blow out a breath, watching the mist gather in the cool air around me. “I feel dramatic, like maybe I didn’t need to jump out the window.”

“Just keep moving. He’s shocked right now. I doubt this is over. Just keep going toward the tree line. Do you see Rhett yet?” Holden’s simple directions make taking each step easier.

Rhett’s big, black truck sits at the edge of the tree line against a blanket of pines that rise up and over a small mountain in front of the dark purple sky.

“Yeah. He’s coming toward me.”

“Good girl. Keep walking. Let me know when you’re with him.”

For a moment, the only sound around me is the crunching snow beneath my feet and Holden’s breath in my ear. Evenmy normally noisy brain has gone silent. It’s peaceful, like I’m leaving all the self-doubt behind. Like without Tyler’s voice in my head, there’s space for thoughts that don’t revolve around fixing us. Space for thoughts that don’t include wondering why I don’t matter to someone who claims to love me.

Rhett’s massive frame reaches out for me, and I bury myself against his chest, dragging in the scent of pine on his jacket. It’s not a cologne he’s wearing. It’s just how he smells, how he’s smelled since he got up here. I think it’s from working outside all day. “Jesus, trouble. I’m so fuckin’ glad you came.”

I nod, wicking away freezing tears as I stare up at my brother’s best friend. The one I most definitely don’t have feelings for, despite the current swelling warmth in my heart. “Yeah, I’m good. He didn’t even move from the bed.”

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