Page 5 of Perdition
His gaze, still riveted to the heart he’d etched deeply into the rough, gray bark of the tree, he barely heard her next words.
“Do you mean it?”
His heart slammed against his ribs as a warmth so like the heat of the sun overflowed from it. Turning, finally tearing his gaze from the tree, he looked down at the girl who’d owned that very same heart for as long as he could remember. Pulling her into his arms, he embraced her…and the bright, beautiful future they were going to have together.
Pressing a kiss to her head, he drew in a deep breath, and vowed, “Until the day I die.”
That moment, twenty years ago, was still as fresh a memory as any he’d made that morning, and it was why he always returned to that tree, that spot, every time life became too fucking much.
Sarah had oohed and awwed at the sight, her issues with her family seemingly gone in an instant, and he was left with more internal upheaval than he’d had before he’d gotten in the truck. He knew he shouldn’t have taken Sarah there the first time, but she when she’d asked again yesterday, he’d been…preoccupied, his mind a mine field of information, data, missed calls, missed texts, a cold, lonely bed, a cold, lonely heart, and when Sarah started talking about Em, like she seemed to do every time they were together…every mine in that mental mine field exploded at once. So, when she’d asked to go back, he didn’t say no—she’d already been there before, what was the harm in taking her again? And, fuck, did he need at least that much, that moment under the tree where he’d once been happy with Em. She wasn’t talking to him, wasn’t checking in on him, wasn’t being the wife and best friend he needed, so he’d take whatever the fuck he could from just sitting beneath the tree that meant something to the both of them.
And Sarah came along. They’d stopped for Chik-Fil-A, and sat beneath the branches of the tree. He ate, Sarah talked as he leaned against the bark of the tree, trying to absorb whatever energy he could from something Em touched, loved, cherished.
Like she’d once did him.
And whose fault is it that she doesn’t give you the fucking time of day?
A ding of a text pulled him from his thoughts.
Sarah: I’m going to WNS. You want anything? I know you’re out of Jack. You want the apple kind?
He almost smiled at that last question, because she knew damn well he thought apples belonged in pies not booze. He’d made a big deal about it at the last club BBQ when Cilla brought hard apple cider and tried to get him to try one. He’d been less than impressed.
Now, Sarah was going to the state-owned Wine & Spirits store, which meant she was on a run for one of the brothers and was asking if she could grab something for him while she was there.
Huh, that’s thoughtful of her….But that was Sarah; thoughtful. She was sweet as pie, always checking in on him, offering to get him things, showing she cared in a lot of little ways…like Em used to, back before she got busy being the boss lady. Now, it felt like he was an afterthought, something Em remembered when it suited her, and he was left puttering around in the periphery of her new life, one she obviously had no problem living without him.
When had they become like this; two separate people, living two separate lives?
When you became the asshole who put more effort into the Bone Dogz than he did his own marriage?
Fuck! That voice didn’t know what the fuck it was talking about. His marriage had always been his priority, it was Em who started pulling away once the kids left for college.
Right?
Feeling his face pinch in a grimace, he reread Sarah’s text, his thumbs hovering over the screen.
But he didn’t message her back; he couldn’t, not with the way he was feeling.
Confused. Charmed. Captivated. Contorted—like he was being twisted and pulled and bent in too many directions. How much longer before he gave out and simply…broke?
Sarah Yates. Twenty-two, high school dropout, child of a broken marriage, beautiful, and still sunny and hopeful despite all that life had thrown at her. She was new to his club, a club whore that had moved to Unchained MC from the Bone Dogz previous clubhouse. When Frost had offered a home for the members and those under their protection, he knew the club would bring a few of their girls with them. Sarah was the only club whore who’d made the move, though, stating that there was nothing keeping her in New York, and that she wasn’t close with her family any longer, because they’d pretty much abandoned her when she’d moved in with the club. So, she’d moved from New York to Wilkes-Barre, and she’d quickly become a favorite among the single members of the Unchained. But it wasn’t until she’d slunk over to sit next to him at the bar one night, months ago, that he’d actually talked to her.
She was intelligent, charming, witty, caring, and sensual. She’d used every trick in the club whore manual to try and get into his bed that night, but he’d turned her down, reminding her that club whores kept their hands off the brothers with old ladies. She’d blushed, seemed contrite, then asked if they couldbe friends. That was the problem, though, being friends with a club whore was all kinds of awkward, but…she hadn’t done anything wrong, and she was a breath of fresh air, and talking to her had stirred things in him that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Since that first night, he’d found himself seeking her out, talking with her for long hours, sitting beside her, laying his head on her shoulder when the weight of his responsibilities became too heavy.
Yes, he knew he was using Sarah for what he should be giving to Em, but Em, well…she was busy being the badass boss bitch at her business, a business she’d been dreaming about since she was thirteen. She was building success, and now that the kids were in college, she had more time to devote to her dream of being a professional florist. But where did that leave him?
Ignored. Forgotten. Pissed. Discontent. Out of sorts. Aching like a phantom limb.
It didn’t help that she found out about you sending Locust on that fucked up mission to seduce an innocent woman.
Yeah, that had been one of the worst things he’d done in his life—he freely admitted that—and he could blame all the stress of the Bone Dogz patch over, but there was more to it…he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
A knock on the doorjamb made him raise his head, and his gaze slammed into the hard, wary eyes of his VP.
“Need you in the conference room,” Patriot said, his voice giving nothing away.
Heaving a sigh, Frost leaned back in his desk chair, and crossed his arms. “Can’t it wait? I’ve got shit to do.” Like figure out how to get out of taking Sarah to “the spot” again. Twice was already too many times, and if Em found out….