Page 4 of Choices

It’s a real fine line between love and hate.

“Hey, Kit,” I croak.

And the line is getting thinner.

CHAPTER 2

AROUND WE GO

KITTY

He stands by the door, unmoving. His eyes, an electric blue, blaze with a combination of need and inner turmoil as my gaze meets his across the room. Blood splatter peppers the gray tee beneath his cut, traveling up his neck to his chin. Moving from the bed, I close the space between us. I wait until our bodies are almost touching, then, knowing full well he won’t tell me, I ask, “What happened?” He’s a loyal brother first and foremost, and club business isn’t something they divulge. Not even to the women that share their bed or live at the club. Not even to the daughter of the club president.

Silence deafens me. The walls close in, crushing my soul. “Cutter…” My nimble fingers pathetically clutch at the edges of his cut. How many times am I going to let myself get hurt by the hot and cold bullshit he forces on me? We’ve been trapped in this dance for far too long. My heart aches, becoming harder with every second he denies me.

“Talk to me.” I sound pathetic and hate us both for it. Against my better judgement screaming at me to leave, I allow his allureto keep me locked in the darkness with him.Always the girl asking the boy not to break her heart.

He shakes his head, and our eyes clash, his are a sea of turbulence.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t have come to his room.

Gripping my hands, he pushes them away from him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

My lungs seize, the heavy wave coming up from beneath us pulling me under.

Brushing past me, he shrugs off his cut, wincing when he catches a glimpse of his appearance in the mirror hanging on the wall beside the entrance to his bathroom. “Shit, I should have burned these clothes.”

“Whose blood is that?”

Silence.

He yanks the t-shirt over his head, leaving a perfect carving of muscle exposed. A deep ache forms in my lower stomach. He begins unbuckling his belt, and all I can do is stare at the man I’ve loved since I was thirteen. His blond hair barely fits in the tie he uses to keep it back. Rogue strands fall around his face, framing his high cheekbones and impeccable jawline. Why does he have to be so beautiful? A breathtaking, brutal bastard.

“Don’t make me ask you to leave, Kit,” he says, skimming his jeans down his legs.

My stomach hits the floor, my brain screaming,“Fuck you!”The urge to mess up his pretty face with a fist to the nose spikes my blood, but when my mouth opens, no words form.

“Callan’s my best friend.” He sighs. “Your dad is my pres.”

Round and round we go: same bullshit excuses, different day.

“They were both those things last week too.” I slip in slyly, biting my cheek.

Finally facing me, he pins me with a stare, heavy with the guilt etched on his perfect features. “Don’t do that. I’m trying here, Kit.”

“Let’s just tell them. I don’t care what they say.” The words ring out recklessly between us, my desperate plea running on emotion.

“Because you have nothing to lose if we do!” he roars, the veins in his neck bulging.

I have you to lose!

Taking a deep breath, he smacks himself in the head with a closed fist, immediately regretting his outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry for shouting,” he says, imploring me with his haunted gaze.

“I’m a biker brat, Cutter.” I roll my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. “Your shouting only turns me on.” And even though I know how deadly he is, I could never be afraid of him.

“I’m not good enough for you,” he murmurs, his chest heaving. “I’ll lose everything, including you.”

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