Page 129 of Wicked Ends
“Are you okay?”
She nodded solemnly. “I went on a really cool bike. We went really fast.”
“Hey, don’t get me in trouble. We didn’t go that fast.” Marcus was standing right beside me.
Suddenly, I couldn’t look at him.
“What happened?” Sally asked.
The rest of the MC had stopped at the gas station. Gage wandered toward us, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“We took care of business. Got the money back, and justice was served.” He eyed me. “My condolences on your loss.”
I stared at him. Did he mean…? No, he couldn’t, could he?
Claire gripped my hand hard, and I squeezed hers back.
“So, does this mean I don’t need to continue divorce proceedings?” she asked after a long pause.
Marcus gave a slow and measured nod. “Widows don’t need divorces.”
Claire shook her head, like she couldn’t believe it could be true, and when Lulu tugged on her hand, she gave her daughter a radiant smile.
That smile was everything.
“Is everything okay?” Lulu asked her mom.
Claire nodded and didn’t seem able to speak, so I spoke for her.
“Yes, it is. Everything is going to be okay from now on,” I told her.
She smiled to herself and followed Claire to a picnic table outside the gas station. Sally had brought out an armful of water bottles, chips, and candy.
“When you say it like that, birthday girl, even I can almost believe it,” Marcus said, still at my side.
I steeled myself to finally face him. His eye was darkening into a bruise, his lip bloodied and split. I instinctively raised my hands to touch his face and then caught myself, pulling back at the last second.
Marcus watched me with a probing expression. “But you weren’t talking to me, were you?”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I wanted nothing more than to forget that the last forty-eight hours ever happened, and yet, he was standing there wearing a Harbor Hounds’ patch, having just potentially killed someone.
Knowing me had cost him everything.
I wet my lips and curled my hands into fists so I wouldn’t reach for him.
“Are you okay?” I asked instead of all the things I wanted to say.
He tilted his head. “If I say no, will you take care of me again? Will you forgive me?”
A bitter chuckle left me. “Forgive you? I’m the one who lied. The one who got your brother sent to surgery. Did you forget?”
He stepped forward, and I mirrored his movement, backing away.
He paused, his brow furrowing with hurt. “Ari. I don’t care about any of that. You had your reasons, and I was a fucking idiot to doubt them for a second. If it means anything at all, no one in my life has ever surprised me. You’re the first. I didn’t handle it well.”
I shook my head. “You had every right to be mad. I was lying to you. I-I messed everything up. Look at you.” I waved my hands at his outfit. “You’re hurt, you’ve hurt someone else, you sold your soul to the Hounds.”
Marcus sighed. “I have no regrets about the Hounds. Getting hurt happens at least a few times a week, it’s no big deal. Hurting you, on the other hand… that—that’s a weight.”
