War of Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2)

She keeps coming until she’s standing in front of me. Right in front of me. Too fucking close in front of me.

Eyes searching mine, she says, “When you told me we’d be nothing more than a quick fuck, did you mean that?”

“When I told you that,” I say, every bit of tension I’m feeling threading through my voice, “I was trying to keep shit settled so I didn’t do something that’d cause problems with King.”

Christ, why couldn’t I just lie to her?

“So you didn’t mean it?”

My head is screaming at me to lie. To tell her I don’t want to know every inch of her body and that I don’t want to spend hours tasting her. But I can’t do that. I can’t deny what I want any longer.

“This is so much more than a quick fuck, princess.”

Her breathing picks up and her lips part. Taking the one last step that’s separating us, she places her hand to my chest. Her touch burns, intensifying my desire. “I want to kiss you.”

I pull her hand from my chest, keeping it firmly in my grasp. “No.”

Fuck. No.

She fights with me for her hand and says, “If you won’t allow this to go anywhere, why do you keep showing up? Why answer my texts? Why keep helping me?” She finally yanks her hand from mine and jabs my chest, getting worked up. “Everything you’re doing is just making me like you more!”

This situation is a mindfuck and I bounce off her anger. “I’m not trying to make you like me more; I’m trying to make sure you’re okay, because fuck me, the state you were in the other night was bad, and I was worried about you.”

“Bullshit.”

I work my jaw. “You wanna try that again?” It comes out low and harsh. Not because I’m angry with her, but because I’m fucking pissed off at the situation.

She straightens her shoulders like she’s preparing for battle. “I said, bullshit. You might have been worried, which I appreciate, but I call bullshit that that’s the full reason for everything else you’ve done.”

My anger rolls through me. “You can call bullshit as much as you like. The truth is we can go round and fucking round on this forever, but it will never be more than what it is now.” I jerk my chin towards the door. “We’re done here.”

Her eyes search mine for another few moments before she spins and exits the house. She doesn’t speak another word to me after that. She’s pissed. Fuck, we’re both pissed. And while I know I’ve made the right decision, it doesn’t fucking feel like it.

22

Zara

* * *

It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Fury. Since the day he told me were “done here.” At the time he told me that, I thought he meant done arguing for the day. In hindsight, I think he meant we are done. Completely. As in, he’s staying away forever.

I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to take my mind off him.

I’ve had two more appointments with my psychologist. They’re getting easier and with each passing day, using the techniques she’s teaching, I’m finding my ability to cope with the fear and paranoia is improving. She’s made it clear that this may be a long journey, so I’m prepared for that.

I’ve started running daily again. And doing yoga a few times a week. This shit works. And it also helps counteract all the cake I’m eating, because baking has become my new best friend. I’m making so many bloody cakes that I’ve had to start offloading them to Mum and Gran. King’s probably the only one happy about this; Mum and Gran want all that sugar about as much as I do.

I’ve also been job hunting. I’m not having much luck there, but I’m not giving up. It doesn’t seem like business will pick up anytime soon at the bookstore, and I really need a cash injection. Especially since I’m no longer on friendly terms with my new mechanic.

My favourite thing I’ve started doing in the last two weeks, though, is reading to a lady in a retirement village who can’t read anymore due to bad eyesight. After a guy from the village contacted my boss to see if there might be someone at the store willing to do this, I’ve visited Rosie three times and read with her. She loves romance novels as much as I do, and she’s a lot of fun. She’s nearly seventy, but she acts like she’s barely fifty. I hate that her eyes have given out on her, so it makes me happy to help bring books back into her life. And since I’ve decide

d to cut ties with all my shitty friends, and since Fury doesn’t seem to want to be my friend, it’s nice to have Rosie to spend time with.

It’s late on a Saturday afternoon and I’ve just spent three hours reading with her when Holly calls and asks me to pick up a bike part from Sarge on my way home. He’s at the clubhouse so I take a detour and stop off to collect the part.

I park my car near the front door, noting how many bikes there are here today. My guess that it’s going to be rowdy inside is confirmed the second I push through the front door. The laughter and noise coming from the bar is louder than I’ve heard here for a while.

“Hey, Zara,” one of the guys greets me, a little drunkenly and a whole lot happily. They all greet me the same way as I cut through the crowd to the bar where Kree’s working, looking kinda stressed.