Talkin' Trash (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 2)

I pulled her into my chest. “I know, baby. But there are other things happening, and I didn’t want you in the middle of that media shit storm. I might’ve been able to get the ones off the internet, but there were the ones printed in the paper. It wasn’t safe to be around me. Hell, I’m sure having you show up at the game today only stirred that fire right back up.”

She laughed and pulled away, causing me to follow her.

“I don’t give a damn about that,” she admitted. “I only care about you. And now that I know that you had no part in doing what I saw in those pictures, I’m okay with whatever comes our way. Whether that’s paparazzi, fame or misfortune. Hell, as long as you don’t go and keep something so important like this from me again, I’ll be okay with whatever life throws at us.”

I sighed. “I would’ve told you but…”

She placed her hand over her mouth. “We were both at fault for what happened. If I had been thinking rationally and hadn’t reacted without giving you a chance to explain first, I would’ve seen that you were sick, that you weren’t even awake. Hell, now that my brain can think past seeing her hand on your chest, I can see the freakin’ signs. God, I feel so stupid.”

I pulled her into me roughly, wrapping my arms around her so tight that I was sure she was having trouble breathing. But I just couldn’t force them to loosen.

Having her back in my arms felt so fucking sweet that I was sure that at any second it was about to come all crashing down.

I wouldn’t let her go. Not ever again.

“Let’s go inside,” I urged.

In that moment, I needed to be inside of her. I needed that last connection to make this feel completely real.

“My parents are at my place,” she whispered.

Her place that I’d been able to convince the landlord not to sell thanks to offering him about four times his asking price and him accepting. Though she didn’t know that…yet.

I pulled her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to her. “Text them and tell them you’re not coming home.”

She snorted but did as I asked, typing away at her phone at lightning speed.

When she pushed the phone back into her pocket, we both turned and headed for my front door.

We were both seconds away from pushing through the front door when we heard it.

“I saw that y’all were back together.”

I froze at hearing a woman’s voice behind me.

Turning slightly, I faced the same woman who had nearly ruined my life.

Tara.

“You don’t have to worry about Tantor for a while,” she murmured. “My father sent him down a different path for the foreseeable future. I thought I’d come share that with you in case you were curious whether or not he’d be showing up to do anything since y’all have obviously fixed things.”

“No offense, but why the hell would we trust anything that comes out of your mouth? And, FYI, we haven’t fixed things,” Conleigh said coldly. “I’m not sure the things you and your brother broke are able to be fixed.”

That made my heart leap.

Not fix things?

God, that sounded awful, and honestly, the worst possible thing that could ever happen.

If we couldn’t move on from what had happened, then where would we go?

Would we even have a chance?

“I’m sure that you may think that way,” Tara said. “But just look at it this way…I didn’t do anything to him. I only took some pictures. I never touched him other than to place my hand on his chest once and his face once. He undressed himself. I only assisted him with getting a hotel room.” She looked haunted. “He still has his FaithSports contract because of whomever y’all hired to get the pictures off the Internet. Tantor isn’t going to be bothering you for a while. Oh, and you’re not being controlled by your brother and father, being forced do horrible things that you never wanted to do and seeing things that you never, not ever, wanted to see.”

Conleigh scoffed. “That sounds like a bunch of convenient excuses. Someone forcing you to do something like what you did to Linc says that you’re weak, not a victim. Linc is the victim here.”

Tara laughed then, causing Conleigh to stiffen in anger.

But there was no anger in the woman in front of me. Only self-recrimination.

“I’d do anything if it meant that what I had to see never happened again,” she hissed. “And when it comes to a child…you’ll lose every single time.”

With that, the woman walked away, leaving us staring after her.

But not because of the words she’d said, but because it honestly looked like the woman wasn’t going to make it.

It looked like walking was painful for her.