Page 32 of Coty

“What?” Her hand flies to her chest. She turns to Dad, absolutely horrified. “You let her drop out.”

“He stopped paying for my tuition during my third year.” I managed to finish the spring semester. I wasn’t able to make enough that summer to go back for my final year. Three years and no MBA in the end.

“Randall, why would you do that?” She glares at her brother.

“I stopped when the rest of us got months of videos and pictures of her partying all over Knoxville with this Kira and a couple of guys. Every night of every weekend. Drinking, drugs, and men are not what I was paying for.” Dad’s voice rises with every sentence.

“I never did drugs, and it was one guy,” I mumble. He doesn’t hear me, or doesn’t care.

Dad points at me. “I told you that Christmas, to clean your act up if you wanted me to pay for college.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t listen. For three weeks, pictures and videos came constantly. You were either at bars in Knoxville or here, partying with those bikers. You made your choice. I made mine and pulled your funding.”

Wow. Way to stab me again, Dad. Yes, I partied. Yes, I was drinking. No, I never did drugs. Those around me did them. Yes, there was a man, only one. A mean one I wished I’d never met. I kept coming back to the Den, hoping Coty was home.

“I can’t hire her without a degree. My company insists on them,” Aunt Ellen says.

“Can’t she just go back and finish the last year?” David asks.

“I’m not paying for it. Knoxville is the last place she needs to go.” Dad throws his napkin on the table.

“There are more colleges than Knoxville,” David points out. Is my brother actually trying to help me?

“That’s true,” Mom agrees quickly. She sounds hopeful for the first time in years.

Aunt Ellen taps her finger to her chin. “I could take her back with me and get her into a college in New York. She could come work for me after graduation.” Ah, so that’s their plan.

I slowly push away from the table and stand. “Y’all see me, right? I’m right here. I’m twenty-five. Y’all can’t dictate my life.”

I didn’t go to college right out of high school like my brother and most teens do. I was twenty when I signed up. Two years ago, Dad’s decision ended my dream of becoming an office manager.

“We just want what’s best for you,” Mom pleads.

“I’m not going to New York. I wasn’t doing everything you think I was doing. If you wanted better for me, you shouldn’t have pulled my school funding. My grades were good, but I don’t want that life anymore.”

Ignoring their protests and cheap shots at how badly I’m making another mistake, I grab my coat and walk out the door. I’ll never be good enough for them. It’s fine. I don’t care and highly doubt they do. They have David. They don’t need me.

Chapter 16

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Coty

As much as I want to, I don’t drive down Mauldin Drive. Kayla’s father hates everything about the Viking Warriors MC and everybody connected to us. Randall Chambers’ disgust for bikers isn’t spared from his own daughter either, because she’s our friend. Well, let’s face it. I think of Kayla as more than a friend. Too bad I didn’t realize it until after I left. Maybe I did realize it. I just didn’t want to accept it as more than a crush at the time.

I’m not welcome near her parents’ house. Her father told me so years ago. It’s another reason I never pushed to see if my feelings for Kayla were more than friendship. Families play a big part in relationships around here. Some parents encourage their children, while others destroy any chance their children have. Kayla’s parents are the latter. It’s probably why her brother doesn’t date anyone seriously either.

My club brothers had no problem helping me out today. Parker, Cole, and Hendrix drove by the Chambers' residence every fifteen to twenty minutes. On Parker’s second pass, about the hour mark, Kayla pulled out of her parents’ driveway ahead of him. Her erratic driving concerned him enough to call me immediately. Something happened at dinner, just as I knew it would. She’s either mad or upset. Both make me want to drive to her parents’ house and punch someone.

When she turned onto the street to her apartment, Parker and the others went to the clubhouse, and I took over. I was halfway there, anyway. I’m leaning more toward her being upset. I’ve patrolled her street for nearly an hour. She hasn’t called or texted me. I’ve been sitting outside her apartment for another twenty minutes. I don’t think she knows I’m here. If she were mad, she’d have already stormed out here and told me off by now if she did.

My phone dings. I reach for it on the passenger seat without taking my eyes off her front door. There have been many nights I’ve watched apartment A17. I glance down at the message.

Sparky:Coty.

Has she spotted me? The curtains haven’t moved.

Me:Hey, Sparky.

Sparky:Where

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