Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I knock softly on the door, getting no answer.
Emmalyn is walking out of her and Kincaid’s room. Spotting me in the hall, she offers me a weak smile.
“Is she in there?” I ask softly.
She nods and squeezes my shoulder gently as she passes by.
I knock again.
“Khloe,” I say into the closed door resting my forehead against the impersonal wood.
“Go away,” she says meekly from the other side.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I can’t, Kid,” is the only response I get.
“I’m not giving up on us, Sweet Girl,” I promise before walking away. The sound of her sobs hit me as I leave the hallway.
I walk straight from her room to my bike. Staying here and not kicking in her door isn’t an option, so I’ll ride.
I climb on and rev the engine to life. The noise and the vibration are painful in my ears, but I welcome it. I pull out and head east, wishing I had a time machine so I could go back and erase my colossal fuck up.
***
Just like always, I end up at the chocolate store in Albuquerque. I grab Em’s favorite truffles as a peace offering for assaulting her when I first returned to the MC. I’m sure she’s forgiven me, but this may help clench her mercy. I’m still surprised Kincaid didn’t kick my ass. He may be waiting until I’m healed, or even better until I got my memories back so the ass kicking would have more of an impact. As if the knowledge of gripping her ass isn’t enough.
I deserve everything I’m getting, though, so I would welcome it. Physical pain is always easier to deal with than the emotional bullshit.
I’m hurting, no doubt, but I wouldn’t give up my time with Khloe just to avoid what I’m feeling now. I’d consider relinquishing all of our involvement, every kiss, every tender touch if it took her pain away though. I’m sure she’d feel the same way, especially if there’s no chance of forgiveness.
The ride did some good, but it didn’t have the effect I was hoping for. It didn’t wipe the slate clean. The fresh air and warm sunshine didn’t lessen the pain; it didn’t help me to come up with some divine plan to win my girl back.
“Doc,” I say walking into the kitchen. He’s at the sink hand washing dishes, a sight not often seen around here. The women usually do the housework. It’s sort of an unspoken rule.
I grin at him as he sighs and turns back to the pan that was obviously used for the dinner meal I’ve missed.
“You bought another bike didn’t you?”
He shakes his head in exasperation. Rose doesn’t really mind him making large purchases if it keeps him happy, but this is the trade-off. Chores. Every one that she would normally do without fuss become his for the first few weeks after such an extravagance. She acts as if he’s in trouble and this is how he gets back in her good graces.
“I know she knew about it,” he grumbles. “She didn’t even say a word when I left this morning, but she sure as hell had a honey-do list a mile long the second my boots hit the gravel after getting off of that beauty.”
I chuckle. This happens every six months or so. He keeps the same woman for twenty plus years, but trades in his bike two or three times a year; just the opposite of most bikers who run through women like he runs through motorcycles.
“Seems I’m not the only one in the dog house,” he says placing the clean pan in the drainer and reaching for a hand towel.
“This is a little bit bigger than a new motorcycle,” I tell him placing the bag of truffles on the counter for Emmalyn to find in the morning.
“Yes it is,” he says to my back as I make my way to the fridge for a bottle of water.
I eye the beer, but leave them alone. I can only drink my pain away so many times before I do something really stupid and crawl on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness. Who am I kidding, I’d do that shit sober if I thought it would work.
“I need her to forgive me.” I sit down at the table and begin to peel the label from the water.
He sits down beside me but looks out the window into the backyard. I appreciate his scrutiny being placed elsewhere. “I don’t know if the universe is that generous.” He pauses before adding, “You’ve been using women as long as you’ve had hair on your nuts.”
“So this is some sort of karma paying me back for not seeing women before Khloe as having more to offer than a wet hole?” He shrugs in only the way Doc can without pissing me off. He’s wise beyond his years. He speaks the truth even if it’s not something I want to hear.