Page 77 of Choices

“It’s a grower, not a shower,” he calls back.

Helping herself to his abandoned stool and glass, Claire pours herself two fingers. “How did Kitty get so good at cards?”

I follow her gaze to the woman in question, fighting the smile wanting to curl my lips. “She learned to play when she was young. Being surrounded by these assholes, she caught on quick to their tricks and learned how to read people.”

“That new brother can’t keep his eyes off her.” Clutching my glass, I take a gulp, finally starting to feel the effects warming my veins and loosening the tension in my neck. Wheels is sitting on a table opposite where Kitty’s playing blackjack with Green, Monster, and Rogue, trying not to stare at her and failing. “I haven’t seen her without a wig in a long time,” she muses, trying to get a rise out of me.

“You sure it’s not you who’s obsessed with her?”

“Speaking of obsessed…” She rolls her eyes, tracking Callan’s entry and path directly to Rogue. Wrapping a hand around her throat, he tips her head back and kisses her from behind. Within seconds, she’s twisting out of her seat and climbing him. “Must be nice to be wanted,” she muses.

When Callan puts Rogue down for air, he nods toward the bar, and she sits back in her seat. Making a beeline for me, his gaze darts to Claire, and a crease slices across his forehead.

“Everything okay?” he asks, taking my drink and finishing it.

“We were just saying the new brother seems smitten with our Kitty cat,” Claire pipes up, swinging her leg and smirking at me.Fucking bitch.

“No, we weren’t,” I growl, burning a hole into the side of her head, willing it to explode.

Callan scans the room, his attention landing on Wheels. “Why the fuck is he glaring at you?”

Turning my head, I squint through blurry eyes. Sure enough, the fucker shifted his focus from Kit to me.

Cackling like a witch, Claire slips off the stool and pats a hand on Callan’s chest. “Why don’t you ask your best friend or sister?” Callan’s eyes drop to where her hand is, and she flinches. Snatching her arm back, she saunters out of the room like she didn’t just detonate a huge fucking bomb.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Callan sweeps the bottle of whisky and guzzles it back, wiping his mouth across his forearm. “Are you going to wait for me to ask?”

“She’s drunk and being a cunt.” I pull out my money clip and reel off a few bills, dropping them on the bar for Jess.

“What did she mean about Kit?”

“Nothing.”

“Cutter, is there something I need to know about Kit?”

My heart pounds heavily in my chest.

Tell him.

Say it.

Tell him you love her.

Say it, you pussy.

“Claire’s just jealous. I mentioned Kit looks good with her new hair and that Wheels might have a little crush.”

“Kit seems better, right?” He nods, looking over at her. “Like herself again.”

“Yeah, sure.” I have to look away. It hurts to be here right now.

“Does she like Wheels back?” he asks, and I almost choke on my own tongue.

“Would it matter? He’s a brother.”

“I know.” He thins his lips, giving me his attention. “You better have a word with Claire. Bitches can get real fucking nasty when they’re jealous.”

“I’ll set her straight.” I snatch the bottle from his grasp and stumble out of the bar to my room, the halls seeming to stretch on for miles. The paintings Diamond keeps adding to the walls bleed their color, the faces of rockstars mocking me. Shoving into my room, I find Claire standing at the end of my bed.

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