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Valen (Henchmen MC Next Generation 6)

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“I heard you two beat the shit out of each other when you heard he was back,” I said, giving him a raised brow.

“Old business that needed handling,” he said, shrugging, clearly not holding any more animosity.

It had been so long.

He’d likely dated a thousand girls since then.

Ones he was more than kissing friends with.

“Come on, Lu. This is a bar. That’s a drink. You’re supposed to be spilling your guts.”

“So, you know how I like to act first and then think later?”

“One of your most admirable qualities,” he said, smirking.

He’d always liked chaos.

“Yeah, well, I decided to prospect at the club.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said, laughing. And not a little chuckle. Oh, no. This was Jase. He was always game to have a big, deep laugh at your expense.

“I know. Not my smartest move,” I agreed. “I was just…”

“I saw you, you know,” Jase said, cutting me off. “With Valen. Then when he was gone. Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that happy and then that fucking devastated. I don’t blame you for still being mad at that fuckhead. You deserved better.” There was a short pause, then, “But I think that maybe prospecting would be hurting more than helping.”

“You’re not wrong,” I agreed.

“I guess it all comes down to the end game, though,” he mused, accepting a drink the bartender passed him.

“End game?” I repeated.

“Yeah. What’s the plan? To make him pay? To make him apologize? To make him yours again?”

“I guess that’s the problem,” I admitted. “I don’t know. I mean, when I came up with the plan, I just wanted to make him suffer. But now? Now, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Shit with the opposite sex always is, isn’t it? Especially when you loved the bastard. What happened tonight?” he asked, and the truth must have shown on my face because he let out a knowing chuckle. “I see. Yeah, that always complicates it, doesn’t it?”

“It never used to.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking guys you didn’t love,” Jase said, shrugging.

“When did you get all wise, huh?” I asked, shooting small eyes at him.

“Don’t go accusing me of that shit,” he said, shaking his head. “So, are you here just to drown it, or are you trying to figure it out?”

“Either. Both, I guess,” I admitted, swirling my drink before taking a long swig.

“You love him.”

“Despite my better judgment. But, in my defense, I don’t really think I have much choice in the matter.”

“Can’t say I understand that, but okay. You think he loves you?”

“I don’t know,” I said even as my heart squeezed in my chest at the possibility. “He said he missed me,” I told Jase.

“If it helps at all, I don’t think you can miss someone you don’t have feelings for,” Jase said.

“I guess that’s true,” I agreed. “And, given the complicated situation you two are in now with the club, I can’t imagine he’d fuck you unless he genuinely felt like he couldn’t fight it.”

“Also a good point,” I agreed.

“What’d he say after?” Jase asked.

My gaze slipped in his direction and quickly away.

“Fuck, baby, that’s cold,” he said, knowing what had happened. “Alright, listen. I get it. You were never good at the mushy, emotional shit. Can’t imagine you got any better at that while you were out in the world, following in your daddy’s footsteps.”

“How did you know that?” I asked, stiffening.

“Come on, Lu. You think I don’t know what’s going on with all the players in the world worth knowing about? Relax. No one knows your name. There are just several posts about some hot brunette making her way across Europe and rubbing shoulders with some shady characters. Sounded like a girl I once knew,” he said, shrugging.

“Oh, okay. And, ah, yeah. No. Being all alone in that whole world probably made me even worse at the whole communicating shit part. No one wanted to know what I was feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never been breaking a kneecap and had someone ask me how my mental health is,” Jase said, giving me a wicked smirk.

“You savage, you.”

“Says the chick who has her own personal lye supplier,” he shot back.

“In my defense, I inherited that lye supplier,” I said, sharing a smile with him. And, for a moment, the years fell away, and we were just a couple of dumb kids playing at thinking we were grown enough for a relationship.

“You gotta talk to him, girl,” he said, shaking his head at me. “And not pick a fight with him,” he added.

“You make me sound like a monster. Why the hell did you want to be with me back then?” I asked.

“Guess I like smart-talking monsters with commitment and intimacy issues. Whiskey-sour, that’s how I like my women,” he said. “Besides, you have a fucking killer ass,” he said, making a laugh bubble up and burst out of me.



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