Page 17 of Roxy’s Independence (Mayhem Makers – MMM: Deviant Knights MC #3)
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Roxy
It’s been two hours and still, Kinsley is a no-show. We’re not sure if we should feel dissed or if we should be out scouring the streets for her. When she texted earlier, she never said what her stop was for, but from what she said, she still planned on coming.
“Does anyone else think her lack of communication is strange?” Joceline asks, her brows drawn inward. “She always messages me back. It isn’t an immediate response nine tenths of the time, but it’s never taken this long either.”
“Where do you think she went?” Harper asks, chewing on her thumbnail. “I have a bad feeling eating away at me.”
“Stop that,” Laney says, swatting her sister’s thumb away from her mouth. “That’s a bad habit you need to break, sis. I’m sure she’s fine, probably just went to hash things out with her ex. Didn’t you say he’s been texting her on and off all day, Selah?”
“Yeah,” Selah answers, her fingers steadily gliding along her keyboard. “He has. And each one has gotten more desperate and angrier. He’s guilt tripping her. The asshole.”
“Guilt tripping her about what?” I ask, now that everyone is voicing their concerns out loud, my mind is spiraling with what if’s.
Selah snorts, shaking her head. “Typical asshole behavior. Look at these,” Selah says as she turns her laptop around so we can read the thread between the two.
Macon: We need to talk, Kin. Stop putting me off and answer the damn phone.
Kinsley: I’m at work, Macon. I can’t stop taking care of my clients and be at your beck and call. I told you I need time, please take that into consideration and stop being pushy.
Macon: Time for what?? To come up with an excuse for why you betrayed me?
“What a dick,” Laney hisses. “She didn’t betray him!”
“No, she didn’t,” I agree.
“There’s more,” Selah remarks as she scrolls down and we all lean over to continue reading. This feels like an invasion of their privacy, but we’re frantic to discover where she is and if she’s okay.
Kinsley: How did I betray you, Macon? I still don’t understand how you can say that. You broke up with me, not the other way around.
Macon: How long did it take you to move on, Kin? Did you even love me or was that a lie? I have to hear from my mom that you had a kid and were living with another man! You didn’t have the decency to tell me yourself.
Kinsley: Again, you broke up with me. I don’t have to explain anything to you! This is bordering on harassment, Macon. You let me go, and it was hard, but I moved on. It’s time you do the same.
Macon: Did you love me? Can you at least answer that?
Kinsley: Of course, I loved you. I still do and have since I was 15 yrs old. You were my entire world and still are to an extent. But I have a baby that needs me, you don’t, you proved that when you Dear Jane’d me.
Macon: It was a temporary break! How long did it take you to crawl into another man’s bed? A week? Two?
Kinsley: It wasn’t like that, Macon! I was sad, lonely, depressed and he helped me.
Macon: Helped you? How?
Kinsley: Don’t do this, Macon. It hurts too bad.
Macon: I love you, Kin. I can’t live without you, letting you go was the worst mistake of my life. Can’t you stop by and talk to me? If nothing else, it’ll give us both closure. I can’t move on until I understand.
“Damn, he was laying it on thick, wasn’t he?” I ask, that dreadful feeling getting worse the more I read.
“He doesn’t love her, he’s obsessed with her,” Harper comments. “I don’t know what his intentions are, but they aren’t good.”
“What was her final response?” I ask Selah since the page ended.
“She told him if her appointments didn’t run over, she’d come by on her way home,” Selah answers, her voice trembling.
“He’s done something to her, I just know it,” Joceline voices her concern aloud. “I lived with and married a man just like him. He won’t let this go. In his mind, she cheated on him.”
“How do you reckon?” I probe.
“Because he stated it was a temporary separation,” Joceline whispers. “A break, but not a breakup.”
“This isn’t going to end well,” I state. “I’m calling Weston.”
As I say that, Laney’s phone rings and she announces, “It’s Dragon. Hang on, let me tell him what Selah discovered before we go traipsing off. I think most of this needs to be done face-to-face.”
Laney walks out of the room when she answers the call.
The rest of us sit in silence, contemplating what could be happening to Kinsley, our imaginations going wild.
I’ve seen victims of domestic violence walk through the doors of the emergency room, most of the cases and victim stories are terrifying.
I know the worst case scenario and pray with everything within me that’s not going to be the outcome for Kinsley.
She may not be an official old lady, but she’s still one of us.
Not long after Laney left, she comes back.
“We’re supposed to meet the guys at mine and Dragon’s house.
He’s calling Flash, Rack, and Kooky in to watch the kids for us.
Once we get them settled, we’ll head over to Python’s so Selah and Beast can share what they’ve unfolded about Kinsley’s last known movements and then we plan from there. ”
“They’re letting us be involved?” Harper asks, her tone bewildered. “Isn’t this usually club business?”
“I don’t know why they’re including us, but let's not kick a gift horse in the mouth and simply accept it,” Laney concludes.
“They may need intel from us that they can’t get,” I reckon.
“What could we possibly know that they don’t?” Harper inquires.
“Women talk to each other, we may not realize we know something that we do and be able to give them a woman’s perspective into things that they can’t wrap their man sized minds around,” I answer.
Selah barks out a laugh before clamping her hand over it. “Sorry. I know this isn’t a laughing matter, but that statement was funny.”
The five of us share a look full of despair as we pack up dinner, store it in the fridge, and gather our belongings before locking up and heading toward Laney’s.
As soon as I cross the threshold and the air hits me in the face, a gloomy feeling swamps me. It feels bewitched, as if an omen of something bad coming our way is imminent.
“Please, keep her and the rest of our family safe,” I whisper. But the heavy weight sitting on my chest is like a foregone conclusion, a warning that shit is about to hit the fan.