Betraying Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation 3)

“Is he right? Did you let him kiss you? Did you let him put his hands on you?”

Jesus. Let me put my hands on her?

He’s making it sound like I hurt her, or what I did wasn’t invited. Fuck, it was encouraged. I’m sick of her, and I’m sick of him. Dom has always thought he needed to protect me. He sees my stuttering as something that makes me less. Shit, maybe it’s my fault for letting him believe that. But I’m done.

I’m done with Gabby, and I’m done with him.

I let out a noise that sounds more like an animal howling out in pain.

“I put my hands all over her while she begged for more,” I snap, proud that for once my stutter didn’t get in the way. Both of them turn to look at me. I hear Gabby gasp, but it’s Dom’s face that I’m paying attention to. It’s full of anger and jealousy. It brings a cruel smile to my lips.

“What’s my brother talking about, Gabby?” Dom says, his voice cold as he turns and looks at her. It may make me a bastard, but I don’t bother to hide my grin. I cross my arms at my chest and let her squirm.

“It’s n-n-not like wh-what it sounds, Dom,” Gabby cries.

Look who’s stuttering now, bitch…

“It’s worse,” I insert with a cold smile. Gabby’s stricken face turns to me, the color sliding into a pale white. “She ki-kissed me first, encouraged m-me. She sure as hell d-d-didn’t fight it when I un-b-b-buttoned her p-pants. Pr-practically pur-rred when I did.”

“Motherfucker,” Dom curses. That’s when I turn my gaze to him.

“Of course, if m-m-my brother had told m-m-me he was cl-claiming her, I n-n-never would h-have touched her.”

I see regret in Dom’s eyes, but it doesn’t matter. It’s done. I’m done—I’m done with them both.

“You two de-deserve each other,” I finally say with disgust. Then, I stomp away intent on nothing more than getting rip-roaring drunk.

Chapter 12

Lyla

I see him the moment he comes in. He’s like a thundercloud. Even the air around him is tense. He looks like he could breathe fire. I should be intimidated, but I’m not. There’s something about him that calls to me. His dark skin seems to glisten in the light. His tattoos flex as he moves fluidly toward the bar. My eyes follow him because, quite simply, I can’t look away.

I’m sitting in the corner, and I’m mostly hidden in the shadows. I did that on purpose. I’m supposed to be at my mom’s, but I lied. Dad will probably kill me if he finds out, but I just needed away from everything.

That sounds bad, and I don’t mean it to be. I’m happy. I have a good life. I love my father, and I like my mother, although we’re never going to be close. She lives in Pikeville, Kentucky. It’s not far from here, and we keep in touch, sparingly, which if I’m honest with myself is what my mother wants. I’ve come to accept that. I used to think there was something wrong with me, but I refuse to continue with that line of thought.

My dad never fails to be there for me. He can sometimes be over the top, but that’s just who he is. He loves me completely, and when I need comfort, he’s there. I know the club always comes first, though. I’ve always known that. Since he’s the president of the Demon Chasers MC, I don’t see that ever changing. Just once, I’d like to come first to someone. I had hoped that person would be Chad Wexler.

I was wrong.

He’s a guy that attends the same small college that I do. I’m taking business management and accounting. He’s taking mechanical engineering. Up until last week, we’d been seeing each other for a little over a month—which hasn’t been easy considering I’m hiding it from my father.

I shouldn’t have bothered.

Turns out, Chad Wexler isn’t worth my time. He was seeing Karina at the same time. I don’t know Karina that well. We’re the same age, and we went to high school together. She attends a fancier college closer to Charleston, though. That made things convenient for Chad because all those weekends he was supposedly putting in hours at his dad’s garage, he was actually spending with her.

The worst thing about it was that he didn’t even seem upset when I found out. He laughed and asked me if I really thought I could compete with a doctor’s daughter. It seems that Chad just sees dollar signs, not people. I wanted to yell that my father probably had more money than Karina’s, but I didn’t—even if it is true. Of course, Dad’s isn’t squeaky clean money, but I have a feeling that wouldn’t matter to him. Besides, my father’s money is also not mine, either. Not that that matters to people like my ex.