I picked up my favorite picture with my parents, the one taken on the day I graduated college. They had thrown me a party at their house on Long Island, and all their friends had come. Many of my friends had, too. In the picture, Mom stood on my right, Dad on my left. The three of us wore huge, cheesy smiles. For all their money and social standing, they were still two regular people. Just enjoying their daughter’s graduation party.
They were dead a week later. They had just left the driveway, on their way to a movie, when a drunk kid on his way home from the beach broadsided them. Dad died right away, as the collision was on his side of the car. The force sent the car slamming into a tree, which killed Mom. Just like that, it was all over.
And Lance could have been different if anything in his life was different. Hell, I could have been different, too. What if I wasn’t born to my parents? What if they died when I was little? What if, what if, what if? It was enough to drive a person crazy, and it tore me apart inside. As much as I knew he was bad news, I wanted him. That was the worst thing of all.
I couldn’t explain why I wanted him, but I had from the minute we met. It had been easier to scream at him, fight with him, challenge him. It was easier to hate him, to see him as my captor. Nothing but a nasty criminal. That way, I didn’t have to think about how handsome he was, or how funny he was without trying to be. I didn’t have to think about how much I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, make me his. It was so much easier that way.
I couldn’t go back, not when I knew how good it could feel to be with him. How incredible it felt to be in his arms, kissing him, feeling him inside me. I closed my eyes at the memory. It had been blissful. I’d wanted it never to end. But it had, because real life did that. It crowded in when we didn’t want it to.
I wondered what my mom would say if I told her about him. I stared at her photo, almost willing her to answer me. “What would you think about him?” I whispered. “What would you think of me if you knew what I was doing with him?”
That bothered me a lot, too, I realized. My self-image was crumbling before my eyes. I was a good girl, a nice girl, a people pleaser. Sleeping with a criminal.
I shook my head, telling myself to get a grip. I couldn’t let my thoughts run away with me. We’d slept together—big deal. It hardly meant we were in a relationship. It didn’t have to mean anything. Men and women slept together all the time without it meaning anything. It wasn’t like every other man I’d ever slept with had meant something to me. We were dating, I liked them. I moved on afterward. No big deal. It could be that way with Lance, too.
I took the opportunity to grab a shower while I was at home, reveling in the feeling of using my own bathroom again. Not that the shower at the clubhouse wasn’t nice, but there was something about being at home which soothed me. Amazing, seeing as how I’d only stayed there for four days. I’d gone on longer vacations that hadn’t left me longing for home the way my adventure with the MC had.
I dried off, going to my bedroom. I had to pack another several days’ worth of clothes. Before I did, I threw the clothes I’d worn into the washing machine for a quick cycle. While I waited, I fixed myself a snack and sat down to catch up on a little TV. It was so good to be home. Once again, I dreaded going back.
I had to, though. For Gigi’s sake. Why couldn’t I bring her to the house with me? I hated Lance just then for taking me away from my home. My couch, my living room, my kitchen. My TV. My bathrobe, which I could feel free to wear while I ate a bowl of cereal and watched TV with my feet up on the coffee table. I was the mistress of my domain. Why did he have to take that away from me?
I wouldn’t leave Gigi there alone. I couldn’t. The only reason I felt comfortable taking my time was that I knew she would be safe with Erica and Traci for a little while. I trusted them. I just didn’t trust the rest of them—they weren’t bad people, but who knew what Gigi could be exposed to? I didn’t want to leave her vulnerable to that. Besides, I needed to know what happened with Rae. It would drive me crazy not knowing.
With that in mind, I got up from the couch to put my clothes in the dryer. I washed out my bowl and spoon, dried my hair and got dressed in record time. I had to be at the clubhouse by the time Lance showed up. I didn’t want him to get angry when he found out about me leaving. Besides, it would get Erica into trouble, too, and I didn’t want that.
I gave myself a little pep talk as I drove back. My heart was heavy. I wanted to be with Gigi, and I couldn’t deny wanting to see Lance, but I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be back in my own world. Getting a taste of it only made me miss it more.