Walk the Edge
Page 99
I trace her cheekbone and weigh her words. There’s a part of her that wants to go, and why wouldn’t she? This is a place that can challenge that perfect brain of hers, a place where she’ll meet other people like her, a place where, as she said, she’ll fit in and meet her tribe.
Just like how I have a tribe—my club. A group of men who understand there are days I want to talk and days I don’t. A group of men who I have proudly taken a bullet for and who would take the same bullet for me again and again. A group of men who are begging me to love and trust them the way they crave to love and trust me. A group that I’ve hurt because I can’t get past my own demons.
“I fucked up with Kyle and I’m sorry it’s costing you.”
She offers a sad smile that breaks my heart. “You tried, and that means everything to me. It’s okay. I’ll write the papers. At least being a hundred miles away will keep Kyle from tormenting me on a daily basis.”
But he’ll still torture her, possibly worse because he’ll hate the loss of control that comes with not being able to confront her in person. Fuck that. Trying isn’t good enough. “There’s a way to fix it with Kyle. The path I should have taken and I was too stupid and prideful to do it.”
And she’s now paying for my moronic choices.
“What do you mean?” Breanna leans forward on her bent arm and drags a sheet up to cover her breasts. Her modesty reminds me how different we are.
I stare straight into her hazel eyes, which are widening. Twenty dollars she already knows. She’s Einstein and those pieces are already put together in her head.
“It’s the only way,” I say.
She’s shaking her head. “You promised me the club would stay out of this.”
“They can do what I can’t. They can make this problem go away.”
“How?” Her voice grows in volume. “How are they going to make it go away? Are they going to hurt him? Are they going to make him disappear like Mia Ziggler?”
“Is that where we’re at? Back to believing rumors spread by a bunch of assholes?”
Breanna slams her mouth shut and looks down, but anger causes her body to tense. “I’ve told you, I trust you. Just because I trust you doesn’t mean I trust your club—”
“I am the club.” I cut her off and point at the tattoos of fire on my arms. “I have never not been the club.”
“That’s not true. You’ve been doubting them since we met. That’s the whole reason why we continued to talk. You needed proof about your mother because you didn’t trust them. I don’t claim to understand everything that happened the other night, but I saw the look on your face, I heard you yelling at them. I know they lied to you and I know you aren’t okay with it.”
“That’s between me and them.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, grabbing my jeans. “I’m talking about you and me. I’m talking about keeping you safe.”
She laughs and it’s a bit hysterical as she grabs for her clothes. “You didn’t trust them to take care of your mother and yet you expect me to trust them with my problems? With my life?”
I flinch as if her words were a switchblade. “I’m asking you to trust me and I’ve already explained I am the club. I will not allow Kyle to continue to blackmail you.”
Breanna works under the sheet to get her bra back on and I use that time to shrug on my jeans. I’m so fucking pissed that when I shove my foot through, I rip the already frayed cuff. She slides out of the bed and she’s also brewing with enough ticked-off energy that it’s not long before, like me, her shirt and jeans are on, too. The silence is sharp enough that it could cut us. I roll my neck and try to fight the feeling she’s slipping away.
“In case you’re wondering.” A snap from her laces as she double knots. “None of this is your decision. It’s mine. I asked for your help, you tried and it didn’t work, so now I’m choosing to write his papers.”
“Is that what you want? Because it won’t stop there. It will never stop. Shit like this, Breanna, it’s not about the endgame of the fucking papers, it’s about control.”
“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I know this is about control? I’m the one under his thumb. I’m the puppet being played. I’m the one whose future is being decided by some guy who has to act dominant to make himself feel better.”
I stretch out my arms, desperate for her to understand. “Then let me help. Let me do what needs to be done.”
“Why? So you can be in control?”
“Are you comparing me to that bastard?”
“Yes. No. You and Kyle are two different people. Not just on the outside, but the inside, as well. You would never treat a girl like he’s treating me, but you guys do have one thing in common and that is control. You want to fix things, you want to protect people, you want to take the bullet, and I’m telling you, it’s not your choice to take the bullet on this.”
“When Kyle’s around, do you know what I see? Fear. And fuck me for not wanting the girl I love to be scared. Fear—that’s not you. You are one of the few people I know who is truly fearless.”
“You’ve made that girl up in your head! She doesn’t exist. At least she doesn’t exist in me, because all I am is scared. I’ve been scared for years! Scared someone will make fun of me. Scared someone will make me the butt of their jokes. Scared I’ll stick out too much. Scared that if I do too much or say too much or do too well, that I’m going to hurt the people around me, and I can’t take that burden, not anymore.”
Just like how I have a tribe—my club. A group of men who understand there are days I want to talk and days I don’t. A group of men who I have proudly taken a bullet for and who would take the same bullet for me again and again. A group of men who are begging me to love and trust them the way they crave to love and trust me. A group that I’ve hurt because I can’t get past my own demons.
“I fucked up with Kyle and I’m sorry it’s costing you.”
She offers a sad smile that breaks my heart. “You tried, and that means everything to me. It’s okay. I’ll write the papers. At least being a hundred miles away will keep Kyle from tormenting me on a daily basis.”
But he’ll still torture her, possibly worse because he’ll hate the loss of control that comes with not being able to confront her in person. Fuck that. Trying isn’t good enough. “There’s a way to fix it with Kyle. The path I should have taken and I was too stupid and prideful to do it.”
And she’s now paying for my moronic choices.
“What do you mean?” Breanna leans forward on her bent arm and drags a sheet up to cover her breasts. Her modesty reminds me how different we are.
I stare straight into her hazel eyes, which are widening. Twenty dollars she already knows. She’s Einstein and those pieces are already put together in her head.
“It’s the only way,” I say.
She’s shaking her head. “You promised me the club would stay out of this.”
“They can do what I can’t. They can make this problem go away.”
“How?” Her voice grows in volume. “How are they going to make it go away? Are they going to hurt him? Are they going to make him disappear like Mia Ziggler?”
“Is that where we’re at? Back to believing rumors spread by a bunch of assholes?”
Breanna slams her mouth shut and looks down, but anger causes her body to tense. “I’ve told you, I trust you. Just because I trust you doesn’t mean I trust your club—”
“I am the club.” I cut her off and point at the tattoos of fire on my arms. “I have never not been the club.”
“That’s not true. You’ve been doubting them since we met. That’s the whole reason why we continued to talk. You needed proof about your mother because you didn’t trust them. I don’t claim to understand everything that happened the other night, but I saw the look on your face, I heard you yelling at them. I know they lied to you and I know you aren’t okay with it.”
“That’s between me and them.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, grabbing my jeans. “I’m talking about you and me. I’m talking about keeping you safe.”
She laughs and it’s a bit hysterical as she grabs for her clothes. “You didn’t trust them to take care of your mother and yet you expect me to trust them with my problems? With my life?”
I flinch as if her words were a switchblade. “I’m asking you to trust me and I’ve already explained I am the club. I will not allow Kyle to continue to blackmail you.”
Breanna works under the sheet to get her bra back on and I use that time to shrug on my jeans. I’m so fucking pissed that when I shove my foot through, I rip the already frayed cuff. She slides out of the bed and she’s also brewing with enough ticked-off energy that it’s not long before, like me, her shirt and jeans are on, too. The silence is sharp enough that it could cut us. I roll my neck and try to fight the feeling she’s slipping away.
“In case you’re wondering.” A snap from her laces as she double knots. “None of this is your decision. It’s mine. I asked for your help, you tried and it didn’t work, so now I’m choosing to write his papers.”
“Is that what you want? Because it won’t stop there. It will never stop. Shit like this, Breanna, it’s not about the endgame of the fucking papers, it’s about control.”
“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I know this is about control? I’m the one under his thumb. I’m the puppet being played. I’m the one whose future is being decided by some guy who has to act dominant to make himself feel better.”
I stretch out my arms, desperate for her to understand. “Then let me help. Let me do what needs to be done.”
“Why? So you can be in control?”
“Are you comparing me to that bastard?”
“Yes. No. You and Kyle are two different people. Not just on the outside, but the inside, as well. You would never treat a girl like he’s treating me, but you guys do have one thing in common and that is control. You want to fix things, you want to protect people, you want to take the bullet, and I’m telling you, it’s not your choice to take the bullet on this.”
“When Kyle’s around, do you know what I see? Fear. And fuck me for not wanting the girl I love to be scared. Fear—that’s not you. You are one of the few people I know who is truly fearless.”
“You’ve made that girl up in your head! She doesn’t exist. At least she doesn’t exist in me, because all I am is scared. I’ve been scared for years! Scared someone will make fun of me. Scared someone will make me the butt of their jokes. Scared I’ll stick out too much. Scared that if I do too much or say too much or do too well, that I’m going to hurt the people around me, and I can’t take that burden, not anymore.”
