Wretched Love

My mind wandered happily as I put the finishing touches on the food, my soul light. I’d never felt so… at peace. So happy.

Of course, I missed Violet with an ache that never left my heart, but inside myself, outside my identity as a mom, I was someone else now. Someone I liked.

I was thinking of Violet when I answered my phone.

Only her, Julian, and everyone in the club had this number. Julian had closed the café for the day, deciding we all needed a day off. Everyone from the club was due to arrive in the next few minutes—not that the bikers worked on timelines; people tended to arrive whenever they wanted to—so by process of elimination, it had to be Violet.

“Hey, sweetie,” I greeted, tucking the phone into the crook of my shoulder as I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel.

“Kate.”

The single word had me literally freezing. I stopped breathing. My heart stopped beating. The ground fell out from under me. There was a low ringing in my ears. My mouth opened. Closed again.

“Do I not deserve a greeting from my wife?” Preston asked.

I found power of my limbs as I snatched the phone, ending the call and blocking the number.

The phone fell to the counter with a clatter. My hands were shaking, my heart roaring. That identity, the one I’d been reveling in just moments ago, slipped through my fingers.

“Kate?” My name was spoken with concern, though it was muffled, as if it was coming through water.

Macy was standing at the breakfast bar, Xander on her hip, frowning at me. “Honey?” she pressed. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

A ghost.

If only.

I quickly plastered on a fake smile. “No, I um…” I trailed off, trying to find a convincing lie.

“Who was that on the phone?” she asked softly. Knowingly.

Shit. I hadn’t realized she’d been there for that long. I wasn’t skilled enough at lying to come up with someone else.

“It was my ex.” I decided something as close to honesty as possible would work in my favor.

Her eyes went stormy. “Is he giving you trouble?” Her voice was no longer soft. “Because we can make sure he leaves you alone. If Swiss knew he was calling you—”

“No!” I didn’t mean to shout, but the mere thought of Swiss filled me with panic. I took a breath, mindful of Macy’s eyes on me. “No,” I repeated, much more calmly this time. Which was incredibly hard while on the edge of a complete breakdown.

“It would create drama,” I expounded, hoping I sounded convincing. “And I really don’t want that. I just want to leave Preston in the past where he belongs, you know?”

None of this was a lie exactly. I did desperately want to leave Preston in my past. If my reaction was anything to go by, I was nowhere near strong enough to see him again. The mere thought of it had me tasting bile and my vision blurring.

Macy came into focus, staring at me intently.

Her face remained pinched, as if she wasn’t buying it one bit.

“Are you sure?” she probed. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything. Especially about this asshole ex. I promise I won’t tell Swiss.”

It was tempting. Exceptionally so, to talk to someone. To get some advice. Some support. As much as the experience with the Sons of Templar and their women had given me a sense of family I’d never experienced, I’d also had to hide a part of myself. A large part of me. I’d never felt more supported, more part of something at the same time as feeling terrifyingly alone.

I ached to gain some perspective. To talk to Macy, who was so strong, so together, who had a life that she’d fought for. She’d shared her past so easily and openly with me, and it was not all hearts and flowers. She was proof that you could make something divine out of rotten beginnings.

But no. She would tell Swiss, Hansen. Not because she wasn’t loyal. The opposite. She would want to help me. She was shrewd and smart enough to know the only way to help me would be to get the men involved. Even if she didn’t do that, I would be asking her to participate in my lie. I respected her too much for that.

“I know,” I replied, still smiling so hard it hurt. “And I appreciate that. Appreciate you, more than you know. But there is seriously nothing to talk about regarding Preston. I don’t want to waste air on him.”

Macy still didn’t look like she was going to let it go, and I was hanging on by a freaking thread.