Luck of the Devil (Ravens Ruin MC 2)

“Not safe?” I huff indignantly. “He’s the only one I need to worry about.”

“Lynch wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He’d hurt Briar.” I glare at her, challenging her to deny it. “Hurting him would hurt me.”

“I’ve told you time and time again to talk to him about what’s going on between you two.”

What’s going on between us? Hell, I don’t even know if there is an us after the way he dismissed me last night.

“I want to,” I confess. “But I’ve texted him a hundred times today, and he won’t text me back. Whatever happened last night made him pull away. I think he’s made his choice, and he’s chosen the club. Not me.”

“If that’s the case,” she clasps my hand in hers, “then you deserve someone better.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my throat. She doesn’t have a damn clue. She’s so caught up in my brother, deciding to forget what happened to her down in the damn basement not too long ago, that she’s choosing to ignore what really happens around here when someone in the MC feels betrayed.

This is club life, not fairy tales and happy endings. In this life, the girl doesn’t always get the guy. More times than not the guy ends up dead, and the girl is just expected to go on like he never existed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I mutter. “There’s nothing fucking funny.”

I pull my hand from hers, hating anyone’s touch that isn’t Briar’s.

“Don’t be this way to me.”

I hate the pain in her voice, but at the end of the day, none of this is about her.

“I just want to be alone.”

“I think being alone is the last thing you need.”

I’m close to snapping, and she doesn’t even realize it. I wonder if wrapping my hands around her throat or meeting her face with my fist will make her realize that not everyone gets the guy. She’s the lucky one right now, but her luck could change. Any business meeting could leave her alone. One angry person in my brother’s life could put an abrupt end to every dream, fantasy, and plan she’s made with him.

The only difference in Lynch and Briar is that no one in the club would turn on my brother, but Briar’s back is against the wall and no matter the decision, to talk or stay quiet, still ends the same way.

“We should go to the clubhouse, gather the girls, and have ourselves a spa day.”

It only takes a second for me to crush the hope in her voice.

“I don’t want a fucking spa day.” I don’t bother to hide the anger in my voice. “I don’t want you in my fucking room. I asked you to leave.”

Her face falls when I turn in her direction.

“Do I need to make that happen?”

“Molly—”

“Now,” I hiss.

I’m so upset with everything else going on, I don’t even have the energy to feel bad when I hear her sniffle as she crosses my room. The door snaps closed with her own frustration.

“Oh hey,” I hear on the other side. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Lynch insists, and my doorknob turns. “I won’t have her treating you this way.”

I stand from my bed, ready to tell him everything. I fear the worst as it is. Briar hasn’t texted back, and I know his silence, as well as his rejection last night, has everything to do with him. I’m not one to hurt myself, but I’m not above threatening it if Lynch refuses to listen to reason.

“Leave her alone. She’s hungover from last night. She’s just in a crappy mood. After some sleep, she’ll be okay.”

“Zoe?”

“I’m tired, baby. Take me to bed.”

My door remains closed, and I feel like a coward for falling back onto my mattress rather than throwing my door open and making him listen to me.

The night drags on, and another dozen text messages go unanswered. I give in to my worried exhaustion and turn out my bedside lamp. It’s been hours since Zoe met Lynch in the hall, and I can’t even hear the muffled music from the clubhouse. They must’ve shut things down early tonight.

I’m right on the cusp of unconsciousness when my door opens. It closes, darkness wrapping around me once again before I can see who has come inside, but familiar heavy breaths and the earthy scent of the man I love engulf me as he climbs in my bed.

He stops me when I move to turn over.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Out.”

“You didn’t answer my texts. I’ve been so worried.”

“I don’t want to talk right now,” he whispers against my neck. “Just let me hold you.”

His breaths calm, transforming into a soothing, rhythmic cadence, but sleep still eludes me.

“I want you to listen to me.” I jolt in his arms, startled that he’s still awake.

“Please don’t tell me goodbye,” I beg. I have no idea if that’s what he’s planning to say, but he has to know that leaving will destroy me.