“I don’t give a shit what you stand for. I can’t help the way I feel.”
“He’s no good for you.”
I scoff. “He’s everything. He may not be able to show his face in public and we will never be able to have a normal relationship, but that doesn’t change the fact that every time he’s around me, everything seems right in the world.”
Christian shakes his head, almost as though he can’t even comprehend what I’m saying. “Dominic Garcia is incapable of loving anyone except himself. He’ll screw you over and leave you for dead. I forbid it. You’re not to see him.”
“Seriously, Christian,” I say, reminding him just how stubborn I can be. “The more you try to deny me, the harder I’m going to try to go back to him. Besides, I’m an adult, and I don’t need your approval for anything I do.”
He shakes his head. “You’re an idiot. Nothing good will come from this.”
“You’re wrong about him. He's not the guy you think he is.”
“Bullshit,” he laughs. “You’ve spent a week with him. I’ve spent years figuring out who he really is. He’s not the guy for you. Go back to Bellevue Springs, pack up your life, and move somewhere else where he can’t find you. Then find some dipshit accountant who will make you happy and stay away from the Widows. That’s the end of this conversation. I never wanna hear about it again.”
I get up and walk to the door before stopping and looking back at the brother I once loved with my whole heart. “He protected me in that clubhouse. He would have laid his life down just so I wouldn’t get hurt, and I know you saw it. He’s not a bad guy; he just does bullshit things like you do because that’s what his position demands of him. You can’t act like you don’t understand that. Now, I know he killed Dad seven years ago, and he’s done some really fucked-up things, but whether or not you like it, I’m going to be with him.”
I grab the door handle and pull it open, but Christian's bitter scoff stops me in my tracks. “He doesn't get to take the credit for bringing down the leader of the fucking West Side Wolves. He fucking wishes he could have put the bullet between Dad's eyes.”
“What?” I grunt. “No. It was all over the news. The Widows claimed that kill was theirs, and we all know that Nic would have been the one to do it.”
“No,” Christian snaps. “It was Snake. One of Dad’s own men betrayed him during the fire and shot him right through the eyes. Your precious Widows had nothing to do with it.”
My brows raise as my mouth drops open. All these years, I assumed Nic was the one to pull the trigger, and while I was thankful to have my father gone for good, I couldn’t find it within me to be angry at him. I was more cut up about him ending Edmond after we dated for less than three months, but it turns out I should have been thankful for that one too.
I nod my head and go to step out through the door when Christian rises from his seat. “Promise me, Roni. Go back to Bellevue Springs and live your life the way you’d always intended. Don’t go back to him.”
I press my lips into a tight line knowing that no matter what, I'll never stop feeling this way about Nic, but Christian has a point. What kind of life is living on the run with a man who takes pleasure out of pain?
So instead of answering him, I wrap my arms around his large body and crush my face into his chest. “I love you, Christian,” I tell him, pained at the forced way he curls his arms back around me. “Don’t be a stranger.” And with that, I pull out of his arms and walk right back out of his life, knowing that there’s a good chance that I might never see him again.
CHAPTER 11
DOMINIC
Pain tears through me as I come to. I'm surrounded by bodies, but I focus on Sebastian's winced expression hovering over me as he jams a long pair of tweezers deep inside my chest.
My hand snaps up and I shove Sebastian away from me, yanking the tweezers out as I go. Pain rips through me, and I quickly notice the pool of blood on the bench beneath me. “Woah,” Elijah says, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me back down, Kairo having to jump in and lend a hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Stop fucking moving. There’s a bullet lodged in your chest. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Again?”
“Fuck off,” I grumble, attempting to push them off but after all the blood loss from the fucking bullet in my chest, I have no energy or strength to fight back. “Where’s Roni? Tell me she’s safe.” The boys glance at each other and my worst fears are realized. “WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?” I roar, fighting against their hold and getting absolutely nowhere.