Cupid's Arrow (Devils Rejects MC 4)

“Wha-what?”

“I didn’t stutter. I got shit to do but when I get back I expect you gone. Your mother has the divorce papers. Sign them.” I toss the coffee in the trash just like she tossed our marriage aside and set it on fire.

I never should have married the cunt. We weren’t right for each other. We never were. I was only fooling myself into believing I was happy, but I was going through the motions playing house. As I walk out to my bike, I can feel her watching after me, hoping I’ll turn around but I don’t. There is nothing to look back on. It’s time to move forward.

Later when I return to the house the utilities are back on and the place is spotless. The fridge is stocked with all my favorite foods and drinks.

There’s a manila envelope on the table. I dump the contents out on the table. The door key, a copy of our divorce papers, and a note.

Dear Ryan,

I’m sorry. I know you may not believe that but I am. I regret that I didn’t try harder.

All my love,

Mandy

I read over her words wishing I could feel something, but I don’t feel a damn thing where she is concerned. I wrote her off a long time ago.

Chapter Seven

—MaryAnn

Cupid’s been weird since our fight. I knew I was a fool to believe that he meant it when he said that he was going to speak with Hades after the wedding. I knew better, but I fell for his lines anyway. He tried to hide it and pretend that nothing is eating at him, but I can see a sadness behind his eyes. He can’t hide from me. I see him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I see his truth. Tonight though I finally realize why

he is acting so off.

A mass text goes through to everyone’s phones telling them to beat it from the clubhouse when I am upstairs with Zo Zo. He looks at his phone and groans. “I gotta go, darlin’. Best you stay here until morning.”

“Okay.” I let out a yawn and stretch. I have no intentions of staying put in his bed. Zo Zo is sweet enough but everything between us is purely physical. There is no wanting for more between us. He’s single and I’m available. The man does favor me over some of the other girls who come and go from the clubhouse, but I suspect it is more the do with the fact that he’s not looking to get tied down and he doesn’t have to worry about me turning into a clinger who dreams of more. At least not from him. I never make demands of him and would never dream of doing so. One day though he will make some girl a great husband.

I support my head with my elbow as I lean up on my side and watch him get dressed. The man is good looking but not in that chiseled body way. He’s not what I would call overweight but he’s stocky and thick in build. He isn’t as tall as Cupid but he’s taller than me. Gorgeous baby blues you could drown in and a bear hug that no one can compete with.

“Get some sleep.” He winks at me and closes the door.

I roll to my back and throw back the sheet. I feel like a cat stretching after a bowl full of milk and a nap. Three yawns later, I’m dressing and sneaking down the backstairs to the kitchen to put on some coffee. I know the guys will need it. When a mass text comes in this late it is never anything good.

I peer around the corner and see a few girls I don’t recognize. I see Cupid shove his chair back when his eyes meet mine. Shit. I shrink back and hurry back to the coffee, hoping he doesn’t rat me out.

The door to the kitchen swings open and closes as he walks through. There is a darkness swirling behind his eyes that scares me. His fingers dig into my hips as he stares me down. His nostrils flare as he blows out a heavy breath. “I can smell him on you. Do you know how much that pisses me off?”

“Aren’t you tired of the back and forth.” I press my hand to his chest, but I don’t push him away. “You need to forget about me.”

“I don’t want to,” he states boldly, moving his hand up my side and touching my face. “Why couldn’t I have met you first years ago.”

“Coulda shoulda woulda only leads to trouble. Who are the new girls?”

“I wish you hadn’t seen them.”

I swallow hard. A familiar and uneasy feeling sinks to the pit of my stomach reminding me of the bad things Marek would do. Blinking my eyes, I try not to think about those darker days of the club. “What’s going to happen to them?”

“Nothing good.”

“Can’t you—” he grabs my lips, cutting me off.

“We both know it’s them or us. Forget about them. I already have.” His mouth says one thing, but I know those girls out there whoever they are—they are far from being forgotten.

Chapter Eight