Page 95 of Beautifully Reckless

“She does. She’severything.”

That lightness returns at my admission, and Lani smiles as she slides down off the bar stool.

“In that case, I’ll have a word with Mills. Make sure she backs off.”

“I’d appreciate that.” I offer her a small smile, since it’s all I can fucking muster right now. “Hey, before you go.”

She pauses and turns back to me.

“Ma dozed off on the couch straight after dinner. Has she been doing that a lot lately?”

“Most days. She hasn’t had a flare up in a while, so she’s bound to have one soon.”

I nod, feeling like shit for adding to her stress.

“Did JD tell you what’s happening tomorrow?”

Her brows lift. “No. What’s happening tomorrow?”

Taking in a deep breath, I glance at the door to make sure no one is slipping in unnoticed.

“The club is rolling in for the night. If you and Mills can be up early to help set up tents and shit, I’ll talk with Ma about the food and letting the Doxies have access to her kitchen.”

Lani scoffs. “You do remember who our mum is, right?”

Grinning, I nod. “I’ll try to alleviate her stress. The last thing I want is to trigger a flare up.”

“Okay. You coming outside with us?” she asks and I shake my head.

“No, I’d actually appreciate some alone time to be honest.”

Stepping closer, Lani gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

“Alright. I’ll keep JD out there for a while.”

“Just don’t fuck him please.”

She giggles, wagging her brows. “That, Ican’tpromise.”

I shake my head as she laughs all the way out, and once she’s gone, I round the bar and study the top shelf whiskey. I find myself a single malt, and take it and a glass to one of the old tables, pouring myself a decent portion.

I can’t remember the last time I had a drink. It was some time after Hope died. After I dug her grave with my bare hands, clawing at the earth until my nails bled.

That was three fucking years ago.

I’ve been sober ever since. Too paranoid I’ll end up like Kylie. Dependent on substances that do nothing but destroy lives.

But now, as I stare into the amber liquid in the glass, knowing I’m about to destroy Abbey’s life, I accept that I’m too much of a fucking coward to do it sober.

17

The fact that I can’t sleep in this luxurious cloud-like bed is nothing but infuriating. It smells like Ringo. He’s everywhere in here, his scent clinging to the sheets, which usually brings me peace, but instead, is teasing the ache between my thighs, making me beyond restless.

“Ugh!” I practically yell, kicking off the sheet and lurching out of bed with way too much energy.

I start pacing, back and forth. Again and again. Needing something I don’t know how to get.

Stopping mid-step, I bite my lip as I eye the bedside drawer. I barely give myself a chance to think better before I’m there, opening it to find Ringo’s sex toy. The thing that looks like a flashlight, only the top is a silicone vagina.

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