The cold anger I’d nursed charged through me, overflowing into a righteous rage.
“Fuck off,” I grumbled, and headed to the shower.
Once I felt half human I left the club, making it to the shop about ten minutes ahead of my appointment, a quick touch-up and planning session for a new piece. I was just finishing up when the front door jingled and I heard her voice. That dark hole in me laughed at the way I longed to hear more of her voice—earthy and sensual.
She walked in with a sad air then stared into my eyes with this expression of hope.
Really? She just showed up and wanted to pretend she hadn’t fucked up.
“Angel, honey, show Mack to the front for me. I need to talk with Lila.” I turned from her and that confused expression. “Glad you showed up, finally.”
“I called the shop...my sister was—”
“What’s so fucking difficult to understand? You ain’t here, you call me.” I rounded the table and stalked toward her, my anger taking over. “You didn’t tell me where you were, when you’d show up.”
Her gaze darted to the others—Rock and Weasel stood frozen, and Zayn stood off to the side. She’d get no help there because they knew just as much as me that she’d gone beyond and now she had hell to pay.
“You forget how to dial a goddam phone?” I snarled at her. “You could’ve been dead for all I knew.” Flashes of her dead replayed as if on cue.
“I called, you didn’t answer. My phone died. I only knew the Marked Man—”
“You fucking want your job, follow the fucking rules.” I closed in until I stood inches from her. Smelling her sweet citrus scent, my pulse pounded.
No way she can miss my point now.
A transformation happened in front of me, but not the one I expected. She didn’t crumble with sincere apologies, instead, her spine straightened and fire replaced the disbelief on her face.
The same fire that I always craved filled her now. I’d never wanted to bury myself inside her so much as I did right now. I wanted to strip her, spank her ass and fuck her on my table, making her understand she was mine.
“Step the hell back from me,” she yelled at me. “Move back.”
I faltered, Red didn’t yell, and the swirling hurt in her narrowed eyes was a wake-up call. I paced away from her, trying to get a grip.
“Shit happens. Phones die, sisters are crazy, and so are bikers apparently.” Her voice broke so she paused. “I came home to you, but if I’m not welcome—”
“Goddammit, Red—”
“Stop there, Dare—you cool the fuck off before you speak to me again.” She strode up, standing chest to chest with me.
No one did that and it pissed me off even if I respected her moxie.
“I’m going upstairs, you go collect your shit, and talk to me later.” She moved toward the back door.
“To hell with this.” I stormed out of the shop, pissed she decided she was the wronged one.
Bullshit.
I rode for an hour or so before I headed back to the club, spending the night nursing a bottle and bitching with Jericho. He laughed at me and told me to let it go, but I couldn’t.
She was wrong.
It was simple to say—I fucked up. I won’t do it again.
* * *
The next morning I woke up not hungover for the first time in days. As I showered I thought about Red, and those green eyes full of hurt haunted me. I’d been a thousand kinds of pissed off, so I’d gone too far, not even giving her a chance to apologize. With my anger only on a slow burn in my gut, today I could get through this without losing it—give her the chance to talk to me.
With a better attitude, I drove into town and parked. Not even ten yet, so we had plenty of time to talk it out and move right on to the make-up sex I was more than ready for.
I unlocked the door and strode inside. She lay curled on the living room couch. Her red-rimmed eyes opened, looking up at me. It looked like she’d just dropped there, she even had on the same clothes. Fuck, what did I do?
“Shit, Red. Come here.” I waved her toward me.
She shook her head and curled up tighter, hiding her head under her hands. This was how she’d looked after Thorn hit her. My god, I’d beat her up—just not with my fists. Guilt slammed into me and I had to make it right.
“Oh, baby.” I picked her up, hugging her tight to me.
Her arms went around my neck and she squeezed back, leaning into me. Exhaustion lined her face and I wondered if she’d even slept yesterday. I was an asshole for letting my anger run away from me. She hadn’t deserved that.
“I was so worried, but I shouldn’t have laid into you like I did.” I kissed her head and held her. Slowly the tension eased in her muscles and she peeked up at me.