Page 37 of War's Witch
Lilian would want me to feel again.
She cries for Lilian, for me.
How could I not love her for that?
Falling for Cleo feels inevitable. She is perfect for me in ways I cannot comprehend, but I will take it. I hold her tightly to me as we fall asleep, her before me, to dream of the future and what it will bring us.
Chapter
Seventeen
CLEO
It’s loud tonight— music plays through the speakers, chatter fills the space. It is the typical bar night.
My friends from work dragged me out tonight, insisting that losing myself in their easy company would be better than sulking at home, after they found out that War left me in bed alone three days ago and I have not heard from him since.
He ghosted me. After I fucking told him everything, he fucking ghosted me. It hurt the first day, then the anger and regret settled in. Clearly, he came to his senses and realized that I have too much baggage for him to handle. Well, fuck him and his sexy dick.
I look across the dimly lit room, seeing the boys at the bar. Victor elbows Lucas as they wait for the bartender, their booming laughter floating over the music making me smile.
I have good friends, who are supportive and will be there when I need them. Like me, they work for the club, and we arenot members, but I know that if any of us needed anything, the club would be at our sides.
Victor slides a glass to me, Lucas grinning, his tattooed knuckles tapping the bar. “To those we thought we needed but learned that we do not,” Lucas yells.
I raise my glass and drink, the warmth spreading down into my stomach like a much-needed hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day.
“Anyone tickling your fancy?” Victor asks, grinning at me.
“Tickling my fancy? Where the hell did you get that from?”
“He has been obsessed with thatDownton Abbey, the British show. He will be eating baked beans on toast soon,” Lucas adds.
“Hey, do not knock it until you try it. Seen some videos online about it; it does not look that bad.” Victor shrugs, before he takes a drink.
“You will try anything once, won’t you?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Hell yeah. Babe, you only live once so make the most of it. What is the worst that can happen? You get rejected, get food poisoning, or break a bone.”
“Ummm, you could die.” I drag out the words.
He shrugs again, finishing off his whiskey, then picking up his beer bottle.
“Listen, as long are you are not mentally or physically hurting anyone, do what the hell you want,” Victor states, tipping his beer bottle to me.
His words sink in, and he is right. Over the years, people have become too scared to say what they think, or they do what they need to make themselves better because of what others will think. Freedom of speech is becoming more and more suppressed.
“I agree,” Lucas says. “I had a client who is trans, and herparents support her, but her other family members do not— they believe that she is a pervert. Like, let her live her fucking life, then if and only if she hurts someone, step in.
“Amen, man. People are dicks.”
“Speaking of dicks,” Vic utters.
Sitting back in the booth, I know what is coming. I have only told them a little detail of what happened, even though they know my backstory.
“You know what happened. He fucked me, then he left. Nothing else to it.” I take two big gulps of my drink, really thankful for the cold ice that tinkles in my glass.
“Cleo, honey, you have been stomping around the studio like a rich bitch who had her Audi stolen. So fess up, buttercup. We want the full deets, then because I am a gentleman, I will defend your honor, and by that I mean, I will message Savage and get him to deal with War,” Lucas states.
