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Misfit(145)

By:Kathryn Kelly


“Give me time to think this through,” he said, after a moment. His boiling temper would lead him to more regrettable behavior. “Back off right now. Let me calm down.”

“Fuck you,” Stretch said again, ignoring Cash’s request.

His temper spiked a little more.

“You’re not fucking me over anymore, Cash. I’ve stuck by you when you were at your worse. Fucking everything you saw.”

“Stretch, shut the fuck up. I don’t need this from you right now. You want to go, fuck off, then.”

“Fuck you.”

Losing complete control, Cash faced Stretch again. He’d never seen him so angry—almost as angry as Cash. What the fuck was going on? Stretch was the calm motherfucker.

He decided to try one more time to diffuse the situation. “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Give me tonight.”

“Everything is always your way, Cash. I understand the thought of going back to the state of our relationship prior to Kansas City isn’t acceptable. I don’t like the idea, either. Just like Fee had no right to make those demands of you so soon, you had no fucking right to end it between us.”

“Stop being a whiny motherfucker. It’s over. Move the fuck on,” he snarled, panicked, hurt, and overwhelmed. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want either of you. It’s over.”

The moment the words left his mouth Cash wanted to take them back. He wanted them, more than they knew. More than he’d realized, until that moment. But he hated the position Fee had put him in. He hated knowing he’d have to go to Outlaw and confess, when he hadn’t shown himself worthy of Fee. Fuck, Outlaw didn’t think he was worthy of Stretch.

Once more, he started to turn away, feeling lower than fuck. The dawning hurt in Stretch’s eyes didn’t help him. Cash had hurt him a lot. Stretch had given him chance after chance and he’d used that to his advantage. Now, with his back against the wall, his behavior was even more fucked up.

He halted. “I’m sorry, Stretch.” Instead of going to him as he wanted, he bowed his head. “I want you. I always have. From the moment we met you enthralled me. But I can’t do this without her. She came into my life—our lives—and stole a piece of me. She’s our glue. Don’t you understand that? When we’re being assholes, she reins us in. She’s sweet and kind, our sexy Circe.”

“No, she’s the one who’s destroyed us,” Stretch snarled, his desperation leading him to unreasonableness. “From the time she came into our lives, you’ve differed to her. Fuck me.”

A touch of madness hit Cash at those words. They touched a guilty nerve. “And you haven’t, motherfucker? Before Fee, you moped around, a sad sack of an asshole who thought the world owed you something because you were a goddamn cripple. Shit happens, Stretch. You could’ve overcome a lot of shit if you’d gotten rid of some of your pain.” He pointed to the scar, that only Stretch ever noticed. “You could’ve had plastic surgery. It wasn’t until she gave you pussy that you remembered you were worth more than what those motherfuckers did to you, so fuck you. You valued her too.”

Stretch released a bitter laugh. “I can’t believe you, asshole. You look down on me when you need to look in the fucking mirror. You’re adrift. Aimless. You have no fucking goals beyond sticking your cock in everything. What the fuck do you see for your future? Nothing. You live for the fucking moment, and fuck the consequences. Our moments consisted of fucking, drinking, and smoking weed. Hiding at your fucking house. I want more.”

“Good fucking luck.” Cash refused to address Stretch’s comments. He might lose it completely and shoot that motherfucker’s ass off. “I’m not getting my dick cut off to have an open relationship with you.”

“Of course you aren’t. You’re a goddamn coward. I hide behind my injuries and my grief? You hide behind your childhood and your wealth. You use motherfucking Parnell as the excuse to do fuck-all with your life. Welcome to the sad sack club, Cash.”

Cash had had enough. The longer he stayed, the more they’d hurt each other. Unlike Fee, whom he could avoid indefinitely, Stretch was his club brother and in Outlaw’s inner circle. He’d expect civility.

With a last glower, Cash mounted his cycle, ignoring the wound that Stretch’s words had opened.





Locked in the room she always used at Christopher’s house, Fee spent the entire night in tears, unable to sleep, barely able to speak. As a knock came on her door, she thought to ignore it, as tired and hurt as she was, but decided it was best to answer it. She wasn’t in her own house, and she didn’t want to alarm Meggie.