Misfit(151)

“Yes.” Her time with Cash rushed back and her sadness returned. She forced a smile. “Let’s sit down and catch up.”

Georgie went to the same chair Fee had sat on the evening she’d broken up with Cash and Stretch. One minute memories overloaded her system and the next her entire story spilled out. Georgie already knew by her responses, but Zoann didn’t. She sat on the sofa, her expression morphing from shock to outrage to sympathy. Somewhere along the way, Georgie had taken Ryder and now walked behind him as he crawled.

“I love Cash and Stretch. Did I do the right thing?”

Zoann slid to the floor, where Fee sat, leaning against the sofa and hugged her. “Yes. Cash isn’t relationship material.”

Umm. “Georgie’s his sister. Remember?”

“What does that have to do with anything? You’re my sister. Cash is a fucking asshole.”

“Only where romantic relationships are concerned,” Georgie inserted, her narrowed eyes daring Zoann to refute her.

“Agreed,” Zoann said without apology. “From what Val says he’s loyal to all the brothers. An explosives expert. A good guy.”

He was all that and more. Underneath that biker image hid a kind soul. “Why did you call him an asshole?”

“He hurt you, Fee. That makes him a great asshole,” Zoann answered.

Returning Ryder to the blanket, Georgie sat on Fee’s other side, closest to the baby. She grabbed Fee’s hand. “I’ve never seen Cash happier than when he’d been in Kansas. You and Stretch together made him whole.” She sidled a guilty look to Zoann. “That’s why I’m in town. Cash is in Houston at Jocelyn’s. His mom,” she added. “She called me asking what was wrong with him. He’s been drinking. A lot. So much that Jocelyn called our dad to talk to him, since Josh is still with us. Cash has to be bad off if she’s calling Dad for help. I wanted to check on you and Stretch as soon as I could, Fee. With a week off in the band’s schedule, here I am. I’m sorry, Zoann. I didn’t mean to deceive you but…I didn’t know who knew, so when you said you were coming here…” Her voice trailed off.

“I understand. I would do the same thing,” Zoann said with reassurance. She smiled at Georgie. “Thank you for caring enough about Fee to come to her.”

“I wanted us to have what we had in Missouri,” Fee whispered into the descending silence. Hearing about Cash’s state didn’t help her frame of wind. She wanted to round up Stretch, hop on the first plane and go to him. But then she’d fall back into a secret relationship and she couldn’t abide that.

“I understand your point, Fee,” Zoann said, “but that might never be possible.”

“Yeah, my brother’s as big a manwhore as Sloane once was and that hurts. A lot. I understand why Outlaw wouldn’t want you to feel that type of pain.”

“Isn’t it my choice?”

“Of course,” Georgie agreed, at ease with amusing Ryder and engaging in the conversation. “Cash is complicated. He has a long history with Stretch and loves him, but he loves you too, otherwise he wouldn’t have left both of you.”

Instead of settling Fee, Georgie’s words made her feel worse. Stretch had been caught in the crosshairs of her decision. That wasn’t fair at all. As Georgie pointed out, they had a history. Stretch had already lost a lot. To lose Cash, too, when he loved him so much.

“Follow your heart, Fee,” Georgie told her. “In the end, the decision is yours.”

“Yes, baby, if in your heart, your relationship must be acknowledged, then stick to your guns.”

“Nothing is too great to overcome as long as true love is involved,” Georgie said. She should know after all that she and Sloane had endured to find their happiness.

“Just hang in there,” Zoann said with conviction. “If Cash and Stretch are for you, you’ll get them.”

Fee intended to hang onto those words, bide her time, and wait.





The banging on the door pulled Cash from a drunken stupor. Gazing around, he couldn’t quite recall his location, until he saw the photograph of his high school graduation. He was in Houston, at his mother’s house.

The knocking came again.

“Come in,” he slurred, closing his eyes and not bothering to lift himself from bed. He left his room once a day. For breakfast. Otherwise, his mother would have his ass for not having the manners to come down to tell her good morning.

The scent of a woman’s perfume filtered through the fumes of bourbon escaping his pores. He lifted one eye, to see a gorgeous blonde looking at him with trepidation. Abby Mason, Sloane’s sister.