Smokey (Hell's Bastards MC 2)

He was a fucking monster. He hated himself.

Climbing on his bike, he took off into town.

How the fuck was he going to fix this?

Chapter Eleven

Gone.

All of it was gone.

The windows were smashed.

The door hung off the hinges. The counter where she stored her baked goods. It was all well and truly gone.

She took a deep breath, trying not to feel anything as she looked around at the mess.

The food was also on the floor. She’d been midway through her shift when they’d taken her.

Biting her lip, she didn’t know where to start. This was her dream, and look at it now.

Anyone who walked on by, and there were a lot of people, would know. She was out of favor with the Hell’s Bastards MC.

No one would come here. No one would care.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Honey, you will realize in life, that you can do anything. You’re an amazing person. Strong. Nothing will ever break you.”

Her mother’s words whispered in her mind as if she stood right next to her. She put her hand on her hip and stared around her.

It was easy to do. She pulled out her cell phone and started to call for cleaners to help clean the mess up and builders to take care of the windows and doors.

No one.

Each cleaning service was currently fully booked, and no builder would come to her shop. They were happy to help until she said her shop name.

Blacklisted.

Had Smokey done this? Was it the state of the shop?

The gossip mill had run all kinds of rumors. No one would touch her shop.

Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to be broken. There was always something to be done. She walked into the back and picked up a sweeping brush.

Ava started in the back, ignoring the pain in her hand. When it got to be a little too much, she’d attempt to use it one-handed.

“We’re closed,” she said, calling out when she heard the sound of footsteps walking on broken glass.

Smokey rounded the corner, and she held the brush in her hand even tighter, not wanting to let it go.

“Why are you sweeping the floors?” he asked.

“I’ve got to clean this mess.”

“Phone someone.”

“Smokey, this is none of your business. I don’t want you here. At all. Please, leave.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“Get out.” She didn’t want to see him. It hurt too much. In the past few hours when it came to her encounters with Smokey, she’d started to feel like a broken record. Still, he wasn’t budging.

“I’ll leave if you tell me why you haven’t gotten cleaners and builders in.”

Ava glared at him. “Why do you even care? The message is loud and clear for everyone to get, Smokey. Ava’s is a bad place. She’s not on speaking terms with the Hell’s Bastards MC.” She pointed around the back room. “What did you think was going to happen, trashing my place?”

He opened his mouth, but she didn’t want to hear whatever the hell he was going to say.

“But that’s fine. You didn’t think of what this would mean because you had no intention of letting me live. How thoughtful of you.” She rolled her eyes and started to sweep. She held the brush in the wrong way, and pain radiated up her hand and into her arm, making her cry out.

Smokey went to take a step toward her, and she backed away.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to ask for help from the man who’d ensured her life would be a living hell.

Silence fell between them.

Still, Smokey didn’t leave.

She took several deep breaths until she no longer felt sick. The pain was hard to work with. At least she had some time to heal her hand before she opened up the shop again. If no one would even come and work for her, and she was willing to pay them well for it, she doubted her shop would last. No one would come for baked goods. Not anymore.

Her life was over.

“No one will come and work for you?” he asked.

She smiled. “Nope. They’re suddenly busy. Well, they’re not busy. Not until I give them the location, and all of a sudden, their calendar is full. They don’t want to double-book. So, there you go, Smokey. I got my ass beat and my business is pretty much in the toilet. No one will touch me.”

She would have clapped her hands, but that would only cause her more pain.

Right now, she wanted to sob.

How she was keeping it together, she didn’t know. Or she was just holding on by a thread. She wasn’t sure which.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t accept it,” Ava said. She took a deep breath. “This is hard for me right now. I don’t want to do this with you. My life is in the toilet. Please, just leave me alone. Let me drown in my misery alone.”