Page 33 of Ringer's Freedom

“Not that bad?” I scoff, holding out my arm and waving toward the atrocious van. “Doyouwant to drive to Vegas in a Pepto Bismol bottle?”

“We’ll get it fixed, Lilah. I’ll have Beau repaint it,” Bones offers with a chuckle. “I didn’t even question him when he said you’d like the pink. I should’ve known by the colors in the bakery that it wasn’t your taste.”

Bones’s sincere apology makes me wince. I hate seeming like a spoiled brat, but I was so fucking excited to pick up my van today. I was really looking forward to breaking her in this weekend on the trip to Vegas.

Just then, I notice Beau coming around the side of the building. A cocky smirk overtakes his face when he notices me by the van. His smile falters only slightly when he sees Ringer standing behind me.

“You like it?”

He must be oblivious to the scowl on my face. “I fuckinghateit.”

His eyebrows pinch and his head rears back. “What do you mean you hate it?”

“Beau, we dated for a fucking year! Name one fucking thing that I’ve ever owned that’s fucking pink.”

I can feel more than hear Ringer’s growl in distaste behind me at the mention of our past relationship.

Beau’s face twists in confusion, and I watch in satisfaction as he thinks back to no avail.

“Can’t think of anything, huh?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “This is exactly why we didn’t work out, Beau. But that’s besides the point. Fix my fucking van.”

“You don’t have to be a bitch about it,” he argues.

I feel Ringer step forward and reach out to hold him back. “I got it, Ringer. I can handle it myself.”

I cross my arms over my chest and stare at Beau, ice running through my veins. “I think I have every right to be a bitch towards you. If you’d like to share with the class why that is, I’m all ears. Otherwise, fix my fucking van, dickhead.” Turning on my heel, I stomp my way back through the shop and stop next to Ringer’s bike.

I’m kicking a rock with the toe of my boot like a child when Ringer storms up next to me. “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well I don’t give a shit. Start talking.”

I look up at him through my lashes. Finding determination pasted on his face, I know he isn’t going to give it up. “He cheated on me. When I found out, he said I should be used to it since that’s the norm in our world. I told him to kick rocks, and he didn’t like it.”

“So what’d he do?”

“He hit me where it hurt.”

“You better not fucking say that hehityou?” he grits through his teeth, balling his fists next to his sides.

“Nah. He’s too much of a pussy. He knows I’d shoot him if he ever touched me.” I press out a laugh. “It’s so silly.”

“I’ll kill him if you want me too,” Ringer says with such sincerity, my nerves tremble.

I force a swallow and shake my head. “You don’t need to do that.”

“What’d he do, Princess?” His soft voice has goosebumps pebbling my flesh.

I tear my eyes away from him, feeling like a small child again as I admit the feelings I’ve been harboring for the last two years. Ringer always knew how to get me to talk with just a look. “He just made some small comments that I took to heart. It was stupid.”

“Princess, quit beating around the fucking bush.”

“He said I suck at baking, and that I only have customers because people are afraid of the club. Then he said that Mom doesn’t stick around because of me, and that I suck in bed,” I shrug, blushing.

“That’s it?”

I squint my eyes in displeasure as he chuckles at me. Though I try, I can’t stay mad at him for long, and I end up joining in with his laughter, even if it is at my own expense. “At the time it really hurt!” I say through giggles. “Later on I realized he only said those things to hurt me, but you know how I feel about people putting me down.”

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