“Is this what you did in high school? Bully and intimated people to make yourself feel big and powerful? Hurting people to add some joy to your boring, pathetic life?” I am on a roll and the cocktails that are coursing through my body help me feel more confident than I usually am.
“I suggest that you take a good, long, hard look in the mirror at the person you are, and what you do for a living before you decide to rain on someone else’s parade. Jealousy is not an attractive feature.”
I push past them, leaving the room before they can say anything.
My heart is racing, trying to escape the clubhouse before my body.
Tears blur my vision as I walk at a fast pace to get myself away from them before they catch me and either slap the shit out of me or say more nasty crap.
My heart aches because deep down I can’t help but wonder if what they said was true. Is Target bisexual and he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me? The brothers and other club girls have seen him with me; do they whisper behind my back, having a good laugh at my expense?
“God, I am so stupid. No man like him would want me for me.” My mind and heart are racing in tandem, a full range of emotions swirling around my body and I do not know which way is up anymore. “I am a game, a passing moment.”
Reaching the main room, I see Flame in the corner getting a blowjob from one of the club girls, and I divert my eyes, not wanting to see that. Scanning the room I see that Darian is now awake and talking to Louise, drinking from a bottle of water.
Target is still across the room with his brothers, his head leaning in close to Savage, a big smile on his face. For a second I watch them and I see the look they give each other— it is not the same way he looks at his brothers.
Savage says something to him and he barks out a laugh, Savage watching his every move with lust in his eyes. Once Target regains his composure he looks to his brother, and cups the back of his neck, pulling their foreheads together and he says something.
The little act makes my heart crack, and proves what the girls told me to be true.
He hid this from me. He never trusted me enough to confide in me.
As if sensing they are being watched, Savage lifts his gaze to mine, then Target turns his head to look at me and drops his hand.
It all makes sense now: when he found out what book I was reading, the way he spoke dirty about me having sex with two men, and him being fucked by one.
I am such a fool.
Shaking my head, I rush through the door, ignoring my name being called, just needing to get out of here. My heart is cracking open with each step. God, why am I so freaking stupid?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TARGET
Seeing hurt and disappointment flash across Madalyn’s face before she ran out had me confused. Why did she run? I am not sure what happened in the space of her leaving the room to use the restroom.
Darian is still over on the other side of the room with Louise, who is looking as confused as I am until she looks to her right, then the anger appears.
Savage shakes his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Man, you need to talk to her. Clear the air. I’d bet on my cock and balls that those bitches said something to her,” he says, his voice low as he gestures to the three club girls strutting back into the room with smug looks on their faces.
“Fuck.”
Nodding, I push away from the wall and make my way toward the door Madalyn had exited through. The club's music fades as I step outside, the night air cool against my skin. I spot her moving quickly down to the gates, where a prospect stands.
I shake my head at him, letting him know not to let her leave.
"Madelyn!" I call out, picking up my pace, my three dogs hot on my heels.
Charm barks, then Ares rushes forward, stopping in front of my woman and halting her steps. She gasps, turning to look at me over her shoulder as she trembles.
Finally, I catch up to her, reaching out to gently grasp her arm, turning her to face me. "Madalyn, please, wait. Talk to me."
She pulls away, tears streaming down her face, her eyes wide with pain and anger. "Were you ever going to tell me? Or was is that you never trusted me enough to tell me the truth?"
Her words and the sight of her tears sting. "I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue what I wasn’t supposed to trust you with,” I reply, still not one hundred percent.
It could be fucking anything from my sexuality to a straight-up lie from those bitches.