Page 14 of Hellbent
“Just act confident,” Damian says. “No one will question you if you don’t hesitate.”
Easy for him to say. Damian doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who gets rattled by anything.
I glance out at the road as we drive, my nerves settling into something quieter, something more reflective.
I don’t know exactly where we are in relation to the O.D. clubhouse, but I’m pretty sure we’re headed in the opposite direction. And thank fuck for that.
Not that I ever saw the club hit local bars much—the whole point of the clubhouse was to party there—but still. The idea of running into someone from that world out on the streets? Not worth thinking about.
I find myself wondering again, for a fleeting moment, what Billy must be thinking these days.
Bet he doesn’t care.
He’s probably already found my replacement.
The thought should make me feel something. Jealousy, or sadness. But it doesn’t. Just relief.
He was never faithful. If pressed, he would say we had an open relationship. But it was only ever open for him.
The drive is short—ten minutes, maybe. I’m surprised at how close the town is, considering how isolated Ryder’s land feels.
We roll past cozy storefronts with hand-painted signs, flower pots hanging from lampposts, and a couple walking arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, bundled against the cold.
It’s cute. Normal.
Small town America.
“Is this it?” I ask, fingers resting against the cool glass. “The town?”
Jake glances at me, amused. “Were you expecting skyscrapers?”
I smile. “I didn’t expect flower pots.”
He nods out the window. “College keeps it alive. Restaurants, bars, couple of shops. Gets busy on the weekends, especially when there’s a game.”
The truck slows as Jake spots a free parking space, and Damian swings the wheel, backing in with practiced ease. The three of us climb out, and the moment my shoes hit pavement, I inhale the crisp night air.
Town smells different than the countryside around Ryder’s place. More acidic, like smoke, perfume, and fried food.
We head down the sidewalk, weaving through groups of people until the bar comes into view. It’s a low, wide building with a sloped roof and a wraparound porch. It looks like it used to be a house, but the music inside is thumping, and voices spill out in messy, drunken waves.
For a second, I just take it all in.
Beside it, a bookstore. And across the street—a women’s clothing shop.
A rush of longing surges through me. I could shop here. Walk these streets like I belong. Buy myself anything I want.
Is this what regular life is like? What I’ve been missing out on this whole time?
Could this actually be my life, too?
On impulse, I duck out from under Jake’s arm.
“I’ll meet you inside,” I tell them.
Then I hesitate. Waiting for them to say no. To tell me I can’t.
But I’m not with the O.D. anymore. I’m with Jake and Damian. I have cash in my pocket. I have a job.
