Page 37 of Lies Like Love

“Me.” I narrow my eyes.

He pauses for a moment, reading my posture and likely deciding whether I’m serious or not. At least he’s smart enough to see I am because I’m one second away from cutting off his fingers one by one if he doesn’t back the fuck up.

It’s unhinged.

It’s unhealthy.

She hates me for it.

And I don’t give a fuck.

Both guys take a step back. “Understood.”

“Sage is free now, so you can head back and see him.”

Randy nods. “Thanks, man.”

They both avoid looking at Fel as they walk past her, disappearing down the hallway that leads to Sage’s room.

“I can handle them.” Fel leans forward on the display case and starts re-arranging the barbells. “In case you forgot, I was raised in a world of overconfident men.”

“Bikers aren’t the same as trust fund douchebags.”

“I’m not a damsel, Jude.” But she avoids my gaze as she says it, focusing on the jewelry instead and swaying her hips to the music playing in the shop.

Today, she’s tied her hair up in a messy ponytail, and it falls everywhere. Red hair in her face, around her neck. I want to suffocate in it.

When I don’t bother responding to Fel’s comment, her eyes flick in my direction. Blue depths that hold the past and the present. A glance that has the power to resurrect every body I’ve buried. Flickers of hope that feel a lot like lightning bugs you can catch, but if you hold them too long, they’ll lose their spark.

“Why do you know so many bikers anyway?” She pops up, turning to face me.

“Look around you, Red. Tattoos, bikers. You’ll be lucky if that’s the worst you see coming to this part of town every day.”

And I mean it, there are much worse things. Which is why, as tempted as I am to keep her here, it’s better for her if I push her away.

This self-inflicted game of Russian roulette is going to kill me.

“I don’t get it.” Confusion knits her eyebrows.

“Don’t get what?”

“What happened to you, Jude? You got into Ohio State to play ball. You had the grades and the talent. You had options. And don’t pretend the money was gone, because it didn’t matter if your dad went down for embezzlement, he had money elsewhere. So how did you end up here?”

Every loaded question she’s probably wondered since first running into me at the parlor spills out. She can’t connect who I was with who I am. Good luck trying because neither can I.

“I get you hated your dad after they locked him up.” It’s an understatement, but I don’t correct her because then I’d have to explain why. “But you still had options. You could have gone to school like I did and done something more.”

“We made different choices.” I walk over, not thinking about it until I’m too close and she’s directly in front of me smelling like some kind of magic potion that stirs up my insides.

“And what choices were those?”

I plant my palm on the display case, leaning so close I swear I feel the heat radiating off her body. “Ones I thought were right.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She ticks an eyebrow. “You were wrong?”

I shake my head. “No, the problem is that it didn’t matter in the first place. It was always going to end the same.”

“Fate.” She bites the corner of her lip, and I’m desperate for a taste.

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