Night Sky (Satan's Sinners MC Book 3) (5 page)

He moved on!

He won’t forgive me!

He doesn’t love me!

I lost everything!

EVER

PAST

★★★

No, I'll be fine Zoey. You go ahead with Hanger. I'll just hang out here.
What the hell is wrong with me? I just opted out of going with my sister to stay in this clubhouse with a man I just met. An insanely hot guy I just met, might I add.

When Zoey came to dinner at Mom and Dad’s tonight, she said that she had someone to introduce me to. I knew that she had just started dating Hanger and he is a biker, the president of this club no less. Hanger is hot, don't get me wrong, in a rough broody tattooed kind of way, but when I thought of bikers, I thought old men. Old, fat, bearded men, but that isn't the case in this clubhouse. Let me tell you, every time you turn around, you come face to face with hot as sin, sex on a stick, all kinds of sexy goodness type of men. But Writer, ohmygod, he is the sexiest of them all. He has this bad boy yet gentle look to him - his short dark brown hair, green soul shattering eyes, defined and chiseled jaw. Oh god, and his tattoos and piercings! I never thought I would be attracted to a tattooed, pierced guy, much less a biker, but here I am with all kinds of thoughts running through my head. Like, Hmm…I wonder where else he is pierced? I see his ears, labret, and tongue when he sticks it out, licking across his bottom lip. I feel heat building down below with thoughts of what he could do to me or how I would like to lick him all over. He's more lean, but I bet he has all kinds of muscle under that white t-shirt and black Sinners cut.

I feel a tap on my thigh, bringing me out of my dirty thoughts.
I'm glad you stayed out here with me. You wanna go hang out in my room?

I look at him for a second, not answering, but biting down on my bottom lip with worry.

Do I want to go to his room? Abso-fucking-lutely!

I have to play it cool though.
Yeah, I guess that would be okay.

He stands up and holds his hand out to me. I take it, trying to control the shakiness, my nerves are going crazy right now. Writer pulls me up, while keeping ahold of my hand, he leads the way to his room. He pulls out a set of keys then unlocks the door, ushering me inside. I turn to watch as he shuts the door behind him. Oh god, that ass it's perfect in his loose fitting jeans. He turns to me.
You can sit on the bed if you want.

Do I want to sit on the bed? Yes, yes I do!

Okay, thank you.

I sit on the edge, kick off my shoes, then cross my legs on the bed. Instead of sitting next to me like I hoped he would, he pulls up his desk chair to sit across from me. I take a moment to look around the room.

It's a small room with a double sized bed, dresser, and a desk sits in here. It doesn't leave much room for anything else, but I guess if you are by yourself then it would be fine. I love the black and red blocked comforter that lays across the mattress, with the red sheets and black pillowcases. Posters of motorcycles and naked women fill his walls. Writer's room is surprisingly clean for a guy. I don’t see dirty clothes strung out everywhere. There's nothing disgusting laying around, no porn that I can see. Maybe he doesn't need porn when he has those underdressed women walking around. For some unknown reason, that makes me kind of jealous.

I feel Writer’s eyes on me so I turn my attention to him.
I know Zoey is a nurse, but what do you do?

I smile.
I'm in fashion school. I want to design clothes, have my own clothing line at some point.

Wow! That's really great. I have no doubt you will accomplish that.

I can feel the blush forming.
Thanks. So how long have you been in the club?

It's his turn to smile before responding,
Well, I'm still a prospect, but I've been here since I was sixteen. So six years. They are a great group of guys, treat me real good ya know?

Why would you be here at sixteen? What about your parents?

Something resembling anger flashes in his eyes before disappearing.
Not something I want to talk about.

Sorry.

It's okay, just tell me about you.
I do just that. We stay up all night, me telling Writer almost everything there is to know about me. He tells me about the underdressed women and his life in the club, but when I would ask certain questions, he would shut me down. We exchanged numbers before he took me home on his bike.

Nothing, he tried absolutely nothing with me, not even a kiss. Maybe he isn't so into me after all, maybe he was just keeping me company. I decide to text him.

Me:
Why didn't you try anything?

Writer:
What? Lol.

Me:
No kiss, no sex, no nothing. Why?

Writer:
Because you are more.

Me:
More what?

Writer:
More everything.

I throw my phone down on my bed before I throw myself on it and stew about what the hell that means.

WRITER

Diamond Rings and Old Barstools by Tim McGraw

Fucking hell!

Motherfucker!

Goddamn son-of-a-bitch!

What did I just do!?

I just fucking smiled at the girl I love while smashing a god damn meaningless whore. Oh God, and she looked so fucking pretty, prettier than I remember. Same plump lips, ocean blue eyes, long wavy blonde hair. Her just right tits, perfect ass, that flat stomach with the wider hips, giving Ever the outstanding curves. She's a motherfuckin' masterpiece.

What the fuck is she doing back? I never thought she would come back. I have played a lot of scenarios over in my head, but not one time did I imagine her walking in while I was fucking someone else. This is so fuckin' bad. If I thought I had become an asshole before, this just took the cake. Just label me number one fuckin' douche. Jesus. Fuck. And I smiled at her, goddamnit all to hell! I look around the room, everyone has their heads down except her sister.

Crazy Girl is standing there with her arms crossed and an angry look on her face. I grip the whore by her hips, picking her up off of me. She falls over onto the couch as I stuff my limp dick back in my pants, with the condom still on, before I stand up. I start to head to my room when someone pulls on my arm, I turn, seeing that it is in fact Crazy Girl.

How could you!?
she signs to me with a mix of anger and hurt on her face. Exactly the same as Ever did before she stumbled her way out of here.

Not now, Z, I feel like shit enough, okay?
I sign back using the name I gave her for when it’s just us. I’m hoping that she’ll just leave it and me the fuck alone.

I should have fuckin' known better when she starts in on me.
You should, you prick! How could you do that to her?

You can't get mad at me for fucking another chick when I didn't even know she was coming back. You could’ve warned me, besides she’s the one who left me, remember? I give it to her straight. Really, who can get mad at me? She's the one that left, she's the one that never returned texts, and she broke my heart, not the other way around.

I'm not mad about you fucking somebody Writer, but you just fucking smiled at her while you were doing it. She's fucking hurting right now. She came back for you.

She's fucking hurting?
I'm getting pissed now.

I've been hurting for the last god damn year, every fucking day since she left and went to the “big city” to live her dream. Did she care what it would do to me when she left? No, she didn't and she fucking threw me away, just like my worthless piece of shit parents did. I realize, Z, that it was a dick move okay, but it kind of caught me off guard. Do you really think I would want her to walk and see me doing that shit?

I know she can see the tears building up in my eyes. I may be a tatted up, pierced bad ass biker, but I still have fuckin' feelings. And right now, this is too much for me to deal with.

Writer.
I see the sympathy in her expression.

I don’t want your fucking sympathy so quit looking at me like that. She left me, she fucking left me, Z, and now out of nowhere, she just shows up after a goddamn year of radio silence. And thinking what, that everything would be fine? It’s not fine, it’s never gonna be fine. Why couldn’t she just stay gone?

I know she left you and I know you are just saying that other shit because you are hurting.
She pulls me to her, wrapping me up in her arms, hugging me tight. When she pulls back, she adds,
She may have left, Writer, but she’s back now. She came back for you. She still loves you and you still love her. You can stop all of the shit you have been doing, you can get your life together and you can have your girl back.

I can't, Z! I just can't! I can't deal with this anymore. Do you have any idea what it was like for me to have to look at you every day she was gone? Jesus Christ, you look exactly fucking like her. I could barely stand to be around you! We may have gotten past that, but it's like I have to see the goddamn ghost of her every goddamn day. Can you tell Hunter to come on? We need to go.
I don't wait for a reply as I head into the bathroom, removing the condom before I storm outside. I need space, I need air, and I need to get fuckin' high.

I throw the door open, step outside and take a couple of deep breaths, letting the cool air hit my lungs. I can sense her, I can feel her around me. I then look to my left and there she is. She’s bent over, gripping her knees with vomit all over the ground in front of her. It's like she can sense the same damn thing because she looks up at me. She wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand as our eyes connect, freezing us both in place, her not making a move and I can’t either.

I can see the black streaks down her cheeks from her makeup running, she’s been crying hard from the looks of it. My natural instinct is to go to Ever, wrap her up in the safety of my arms and comfort her, protect her from the pain I just caused her, but I can't. I'm the one who caused it and made her like this, and it rips my fucking heart out, what little heart I had left. Even with her leaving me and how I feel and have felt in the last year, I never wanted to inflict pain on her, intentionally or not.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. I break the eye contact with her to see that it’s Hunter. He jerks his head toward our bikes, letting me know it's time to roll out. I start to walk away, but turn back one last time, seeing Ever wrapped up in her sister's arms. In this moment, I wish nothing more than for those arms to be mine that are wrapped around her. She’s watching me though, watching me walk away from her. Why the fuck did she have to leave me? I straddle my bike, start it up, and head to Runaway Tattoo.