“Good.”
He left me then. I didn’t know where this would all end up. I should have cared. I should have chased after him to set him straight and convince him to drop it. But all I cared about was coping with the emptiness slaying me. The problem with that was I had no fucking clue how to make it go away and I knew that coping was a crock of shit. I could numb the pain and try to hide from it, but I could never fucking cope with it.
27
Nitro
“It Ain’t Easy” by Blake Shelton
I rested my arms on the counter of the bar, scanning the club patrons. Not looking for anyone or anything in particular, just absently people watching. Eyeing a leggy blonde, my mind immediately went to Tatum. Hell, my mind didn’t need a shove to go there. It lived there.
It had been three days since I’d run into her outside Billy’s club. Three days. Not that I was counting. Fuck, who the hell was I kidding? The days added to the tally my mind kept. The tally screaming at me that the reason my dick was hard with a desperate need that no other woman could fill was because it had been nearly three weeks since I’d been with Tatum.
“Where the fuck are you, man?” Devil asked, drawing my attention back to him. When I stared blankly at him, he added, “You might be sitting on that stool next to me but you aren’t here. You haven’t been for weeks.”
I took a swig of my rum. I’d even started drinking the same fucking drink as she did. “I’ve got shit going on.”
He threw back some of his beer, a look of “don’t give me that shit” on his face. “Brother, I know the look of a man in the middle of a pussy affair and you’re wearing that look right now. She something special or just a root you can’t get out of your head?”
My jaw clenched. I didn’t like him referring to Tatum as a root. Trouble was I had no fucking clue what she was to me anymore. “You ever had a woman fuck with your mind, Devil?”
He chuckled. “Dude, they all do that.”
“Not like this.”
His smile morphed into a serious expression. “Fuck, you’ve never gone there with a chick before?”
“Nope. Don’t need another person to take care of in my life.”
“So, what, you just fuck ‘em and leave?”
I drank some more rum. “They always know the score.” I shrugged. “Some of them stick around for a bit.”
“So this one’s turned into something more?”
I leant my head back before stretching my neck side-to-side. Fuck, my shoulders were tight. Exhaling hard, I said, “I don’t know what the fuck she’s turned into. All I know is that I can’t get her out of my damn head. And that I’m sitting here in a fucking bar spilling my shit to you in ways I never thought I ever would.” Fuck.
He slapped me on the back and grinned at me. “Hate to break it to you, Nitro, but she’s turned into something more. Looks like you’ve found someone else to take care of in your life after all.” He paused for a beat. “My advice to you, brother, is to accept your fate for what it is and then lay the fuck down and let that pussy whip you. No use fighting love.”
As I sat processing his words, a voice I hadn’t heard in years cut through the noise of the club, causing ice to slither down my spine. “Rhys.”
My head snapped up to find Joseph standing next to us, watching me with eyes I’d hoped to fuck never to see again in my lifetime. I pushed up off the stool and stood, invading his personal space. Gripping his shirt, I snarled, “What the fuck are you doing in Sydney?”
He didn’t flinch. “Came to see you, my boy.”
I clenched the material of his shirt before letting it go, shoving him away at the same time. “Yeah, well there’s nothing to see here, so I suggest you crawl back to where you came from.”
He watched me for a moment before nodding and saying, “Good.”
I glared at him. “Good?”
The smile that danced across his lips pissed me the hell off. “Yes, good. I can do a lot with that anger of yours.”
Oh no, he didn’t. No, he fucking didn’t. “The days of you doing anything with me are long fucking over, Joseph.” Fuck, he always did have a way of pushing my buttons.
“We can do this a few different ways, Rhys. One of them entails you choosing to come back to me. The other—”
Fury punched through me. That he’d ever think I’d go back to him. I shoved my face in his. “You had your shot at me and you more than fucked it up. I never want to see you again. And if I do, I promise you it will be the last fucking time.” I pressed my hands to his chest and pushed him away from me. “Now get the fuck out of here.”
He contemplated that and then did the smartest thing he’d ever done—he left.
“Fuck!” I yelled as I watched him go.
Fucking hell.
“Who was that?” Devil asked.
Memories ripped my heart right open, bleeding the darkest, angriest blood I’d oozed in years.
I gritted my teeth and clenched and unclenched my fists over and over as my body filled with rage. Meeting Devil’s eyes, I said, “My uncle.”
* * *
Four hours later, I was three sheets to the wind, walking the cement path to Tatum’s front door. My head was a messed-up shit fight and I couldn’t, no matter how much I tried, even begin to pick through my thoughts. I tried to numb the choking pain but failed. The memories of what Joseph had done to our family played in my mind like a fucking movie and no alcohol could rid me of those. I’d spent nineteen years trying to forget. I thought I’d worked them out of me. But five minutes in his goddam presence and I was right back there living it all over again.
Motherfucker.
I reached the door and came to an abrupt stop. What the fuck made me think this was a good idea? My mind was already fucked up with Tatum. I didn’t need to add to that.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I stood there for another minute going back and forth with myself before I made the final decision that this really was a bad idea.
Exiting her property, I told myself Devil was wrong—Tatum hadn’t become someone special to me. Good sex was just that. And I could find that anywhere.