(Club Chrome MC 2) All Dogs Bite (18 page)

Delainey, sensing his disquiet, rose up on her elbow to gaze at him. “You okay?” He nodded because he didn’t trust what might pop from his mouth. Delainey mistook the reason for his silence as something related to Gage and said, “You did the right thing.”

“I know,” and he did. He wished he were a better man and had done the right thing earlier but maybe it wouldn’t have worked out as well as it did if he had. “But that’s not what I’m thinking about,” he admitted with a sigh.

A troubled frown marred her beautiful features. “No? What’s bothering you?”

He shouldn’t burden her with his inner demons but he did anyway. “I still haven’t figured out who’s trying to kill me. I can’t go back until I find out who wanted me dead.”

“Then stay.”

Her simple answer shocked him as did the wild hope that zinged through his heart at the mere possibility and it was that inappropriate hope that roughened his voice as he shot back, “What do you mean? I can’t stay here with you.” He pulled away and climbed from the bed. “What do you think we’re doing here, Dee? Playing house? There’s no future for us so stop pretending that there is. Jesus, woman…we’re not living in a fairy tale where happy endings fly out of monkey’s asses, okay?”

Delainey blinked, stung by his sharp sneer. “I didn’t…I mean, I’m not…”

Bronx felt sick for being such a dick but his gut was a roiling mess of emotion that he couldn’t even begin to name. “I told you not to get attached,” he said in a low voice. “I warned you. It’s not my fault if you went against my advice and thought you could change me into someone respectable that you could take home to mom and dad. I ain’t that person, Dee.”

“You don’t have to be mean to make your point,” she said with quiet dignity. “I hear you loud and clear.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, almost desperately. “That’s the thing…I see it your eyes…that hope and belief that I can be someone different…someone who fits in your world. Do I look like I fit in here?” He gestured wildly at her odd menagerie of cats and weird art. “I don’t even know what the fuck I’m still doing here. I mean, I fucking can’t take much more of this, you know? I wasn’t cut out for playing house. I should’ve dragged my ass out of your life the minute we met because I knew you weren’t the kind of woman who could keep things chill. And I never should’ve fucked you. Damn virgins, they get attached every time. And now you’re crying because I’m a dick but honey, I was always a dick so that didn’t change and I don’t know why you thought it would.”

“Why are you doing this?” she cried, wiping at her eyes. “What crawled into your brain and freaked you out? You’re lashing out at me for something you’re going through, not me. All I did was help you when you needed it.”

“Bullshit,” he said, refusing to listen to any ounce of reason because reason was dangerous. If he admitted that he was the one self-destructing, he’d have to admit that his feelings for Delainey went far deeper than he ever could’ve imagined and that scared the ever-loving shit out of him. So, yeah, reason had no place in his head right now. “You were salivating for this dick from the moment you laid eyes on me and you know what, I’ll admit, it was a nice rub to the ego, because you’re hot, but I let it go too far, babe. Too far. This is driving me insane. I can’t take this little Suzy Homemaker vibe you’re throwing my way. I mean, what the fuck? Am I supposed to go out and get a 9-5 and sit in some cubicle or something so you can fulfill this little fantasy you have going on in your head?”

“Fuck you. I never asked you to change,” she shot back, tears streaming down her face. He refused to feel bad. He was doing her a favor. Her eyes glittered with tears. “If you’re feeling something, it’s because maybe
you
want to change but you need someone to blame if you’re scared of the prospect. Grow up, Bronx. The sad fact is, yeah, you’re right, maybe it is time for you to change, but I never asked you to. I was ready to accept you as you are. And yeah, maybe I do have feelings for you that I didn’t see coming and certainly didn’t ask for but don’t you for a second pretend that I’m alone in all this. You feel something for me, too.”

She’d hit the nail on the motherfucking head. He did feel something — he felt a whole lot of something — but
fuuuuck
, what was he supposed to do about it? Nothing. He had less than nothing to offer her. So he lied. He lied through his teeth and slathered on a huge layer of asshole to help push it down her throat. “No babe…I feel nothing,” he sneered. “Do you hear me? I feel
nothing
for you. I used you to get what I needed – a place to hole up while I healed. I didn’t plan to fuck you but I like pussy and you were offering so…yeah…it worked out in my favor. I told you not to fall for me. I warned you. If your heart is breaking…that’s on you. Sorry.”

In his experience, women screeched and threw things when they heard things they didn’t want to hear but not Delainey. If anything, she withdrew and it was as if he could actually see her soul contracting on a wave of pain as tears leaked from her eyes and splashed on her bare leg. She didn’t demand for him to leave — which he’d half hoped she would — she just turned on her side, giving him her back as she cried silent tears, slowly pulling the blankets up and over her, as if needing to hide from him. This was true emotional agony, the kind that only a broken heart could produce. He’d torn apart his beautiful, sweet girl.

And the knowledge hurt him worse than if she’d thrown a television at his thick skull.

He was a wicked wretch and he deserved a bullet to the brain for the pain he caused her and he wished he could take it back but it was out there, banging around in her heart, doing more damage with every passing second.

Get the fuck out of here
, he told himself because Delainey hadn’t. He grabbed his jacket and booked it out of the apartment.

When he climbed on his bike, he was startled to find his cheeks wet. He wiped at the moisture. Tears?
Yeah, asshole, tears
. She was right…he did feel something.

It was called regret.

-16-

Delainey couldn’t get out of bed. No, literally, she felt stuck beneath the covers and content to remain there until she died but Zoe wouldn’t let her and was pulling at the blankets with all the determination of a true best friend.

“You smell. How long have you been in this bed?” Zoe asked, wrinkling her nose even as she tugged at the blankets. “My goodness, Dee…this is…no, this is not happening. You’ve been dodging my calls, ignoring my texts and if I didn’t have a key to your apartment, you probably would’ve let me bang on your door for hours. What the hell is wrong with you?”

He’s gone, she answered in her head but she didn’t have the courage to say out loud. “I’m tired,” she mumbled with a hoarse croak because honestly, she’d been crying for weeks and she had no voice left.

“No, you’re more than just tired, you’re hiding in your apartment and it has to stop. I am going to start the water and you’re going to get out of this bed and shower and then after you’ve scrubbed the funk out of your crack, you’re going to tell me what happened. And if I have to drag you all the way, I will.”

Delainey heard the grim determination in her best friend’s voice and knew with a sinking heart that Zoe would make good on her promise so if she didn’t want to be dragged like a lump of potatoes, she’d better do it herself. “Fine,” she groused, grudgingly tossing the blankets from her body and catching a whiff of herself. Okay, so maybe she could use a little rinse. “But I’m fine,” she told Zoe as she disappeared behind the bathroom door and leaned against it, fighting the instant tears because it was impossible to fight the memories of sharing showers with Bronx. That’d been sort of their thing. Maybe she’d just wipe down with a washcloth…

“I don’t hear the water running…”

Delainey groaned and pushed off the door to start the water. “Zoe Delacourte, you’re Hitler reincarnated,” she muttered and Zoe said, “I heard that” from the other side, which coaxed the first smile she’d had since Bronx split seventeen days ago. Bracing herself against the onslaught of memories, she made quick work of scrubbing her “crack” as Zoe so indelicately put it and she had to admit by the time she emerged from the shower, she did feel slightly better and definitely cleaner. She opened the door with the towel wrapped around her hair, tucked into her bathrobe and Zoe graced her with an understanding smile.

“Better?”Delainey nodded and Zoe folded her into a hug, which prompted the instant waterworks. “Okay,” Zoe said, pulling her from the bedroom to the kitchen where she had fresh tea made and her favorite chocolate scones waiting. God bless that woman, she knew the key to a big girl’s heart. “Tell me all about it.”

After a fortifying bite and gaining courage from the sweetness of the chocolate, Delainey told Zoe about her last night with Bronx, ending with a sniffled, “I don’t understand what happened or what went wrong. He just flipped out on me, accusing me of wanting to change him and I never said I wanted him to change! And he’s gone. I thought at first he might come back when he’d calmed down but…he hasn’t. He’s just…gone.”

Zoe was quiet for a moment then suggested the one thing that Delainey didn’t want to hear. “Maybe this is a blessing.”

Delainey hit Zoe with a hard, disbelieving look. “Don’t you dare say that. I didn’t tell you to walk away from Jax and Hunter when it seemed they’d abandoned you after what’d happened with Dimas. Please don’t tell me that Bronx leaving is better for me because my heart is breaking. I love him!”

Zoe nodded with sadness. “I know. I just hate seeing you hurt and if he doesn’t have the balls to hold onto what he wants, no matter the cost, he doesn’t deserve you.”

Delainey broke down and sobbed because deep down, she knew Zoe was right. Why hadn’t she meant more to Bronx? Had he truly just used her? Even if on the surface, it seemed true, her heart stubbornly refused to believe that.

His heart spoke to hers, she could feel it in the way his touch had made her body sing in a way she never thought possible and…
oh God
…the scone that’d been so delicious going down, was suddenly making a swift trip back up and she bolted for the bathroom to puke her guts out.

She heaved until there was nothing left of that poor scone and when she was certain nothing else was going to go flying from her mouth, she rose on shaky legs to get a glass of water. “That scone must be bad,” she said to Zoe who was watching her with alarm as she tossed the pastry into the trash with a shudder. “Maybe you ought to throw yours away, too.”

“There’s nothing wrong with mine,” Zoe said, frowning with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Fine is a relative term wouldn’t you say?” Delainey retorted, gulping down the water to wash away the bitterness remaining in her mouth. “I just puked my guts out.” She paused and rubbed at her mouth, realizing, she hadn’t been feeling all that hot for the past week but she’d attributed her nausea to her wrecked emotional state. She felt the color drain from her face and she shook her head against the realization that her period was also late. No. No. No.

Zoe read her mind and grabbed her coat. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Maybe try to eat some crackers. That always seemed to help me…”

When I was pregnant
, that’s what Zoe hadn’t said but Delainey heard loud and clear. She sat heavily in the chair and nodded numbly, unable to process what was staring at her in the face. Pregnant. The day at the lake, most likely. Such a beautiful, wondrous day…of course, it was all lies if she were to believe Bronx but she didn’t believe him. She didn’t believe him for a second. The coward loved her but was too chicken shit to admit it.

She didn’t even have a phone number for him. A hysterical bubble of laughter rose from her lips. She couldn’t even tell him he was going to be a father.

Worse…would he even care?

Zoe returned fifteen minutes later and two minutes later Delainey had peed on the little stick —and her hand, because damn, that was tricky — and the little test strip had confirmed what she’d already figured out: pregnant.

Zoe’s eyes filled with more concern and worry as Delainey just kept staring at the stick. “What are you going to do?”

Delainey glanced up and shrugged. “I have no clue. I guess…be a single mom?”

Zoe took a deep breath and asked, “Do you want Bronx to be a father to this child or do you want to do this on your own?”

She wanted Bronx. Her heart keened wildly but her lips seamed shut. She could do this on her own. Bronx left her. She wouldn’t allow him to use their child as an excuse that she’d trapped him into a relationship he’d never wanted. Pulling her shoulders back, Delainey met Zoe’s gaze and answered without flinching, “Bronx can go fuck himself. I’ll raise my baby by myself.”

Zoe’s eyes watered as she grasped Delainey’s hand, saying, “You’re not alone. We’ll be with you, every step of the way.”

And that was all Delainey needed.

Well, maybe if she kept telling herself that…it would make it true.

***

Bronx nursed his whiskey, business as usual in his back corner of The Rusty Chain and waited for Jaime Montavez to show. Pryo sat to his left, his back-up in case things went south, and just to be on the safe side, locked and loaded. Jaime, a wiry Mexican with short, cropped black hair and shark eyes joined them at the table as Bronx signaled Peaches to bring their guest a drink.

“What’ll it be,” Peaches asked Jaime, her sharp eyes missing nothing. “Got ourselves some south-of-the-border tequila if you’re hankering for a taste of home.”

Jaime grinned, sliding his hand down Peaches’ generous backside to slap her soundly. “Eh, mama, you bring me the good stuff,
Si
? None of that horse piss you serve to the rest of your
gringos
.”

Peaches flashed Bronx a look that said if Jaime wasn’t integral to this deal, she’d chop off his motherfucking hands and serve it to him with marinara but she smiled and went to grab the man his drink without a single peep. Bronx shared a short look with Pyro — yeah, they both knew Peaches was probably gonna add a little extra flavor to Jaime’s drink — and smothered a chuckle.