“Call me if you need anything. I love you, Bestie,” Mary said, holding my arms.
“Love you too. I will be fine though, don’t worry. I will call you tomorrow to check-in,” I said, turning to leave before breaking down, which I refused to do. I never let anyone see me cry ever. I walked out of the clubhouse; my head held high.
I didn’t even break down in my car as I drove home, not when I went inside my house; no, I didn’t break down until I was lying in my bed, silence all around me; that’s when I let it all out. Ugly crying until I exhausted myself. Hating myself for trusting Black and giving in to my attraction to him only to be hurt just like I knew would happen. I let Black past all my carefully built walls into my inner self, letting him know me.
At least I thought he knew me.
Black jumped to the conclusion, not even questioning that I was capable of sleeping with two men at once. He thought so little of me. It hurt.
It hurt a lot.
But I knew the risk of sleeping with Black, and now I was feeling the effects of that risk, so I needed to put my big girl panties on and forget about him. My life was fine before him, and it will be after him. At least, that’s what I told myself as I drifted off into an exhausted sleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BLACK
FUCK, Igroaned, rolling over, putting my pillow over my head to block the light from the window. My head was pounding so hard that I swear it was vibrating. How much did I drink last night? I hadn’t been this hungover in years.
I tried to make my mind focus through the pounding on what happened last night—sifting through my memories and groaning with each new memory.
I fucked up.
Throwing the pillow off, I crawled out of bed, each movement sending shooting pain through my head. I rummaged in my nightstand for some pain killers and, finding some, I grabbed a water, swallowing them down.
God, I feel like shit.
I just realized I’m still fully clothed, right down to my cut. So, undressing, I made my way to the bathroom. I needed a shower, one of Jane’s hangover remedies, and then I could put my mind to work on how I would approach Ann. Getting close to my little spitfire was going to be like approaching a feral cat.
After showering and throwing on some clothes, I headed down to the kitchen. It was now eleven in the morning. I had missed breakfast, not that I could eat anything. Right now, all I wanted was something for my hangover. I found Jane sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, talking to Silver.
“Hey, Jane, can you please make me one of your hangover remedies?”
“Sure, have a seat, and I will whip one up,” Jane said, looking at me with sympathy. However, Silver had a totally different attitude.
“Fucked up, didn’t you, boy,” Silver said, smirking.
“You could say that. I will fix it.”
“You young generation don’t know how to handle a woman. So you run straight to another woman rather than confronting the problem. You need to learn to fight it out and move on. But hitting up another bitch that’s a problem not easily fixed.”
Sighing, my head still aching, “I just have to talk to her. Make her understand I was drunk, and I wasn’t going to do anything with Brooke,” I said. Knowing it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“I’m going give you the same advice I gave Fuse. Ann isn’t going to forgive what she saw by you saying you weren’t going to do shit with Brooke. She knows what she saw and won’t believe you. So you’re gonna have to play dirty and not give up,” Silver said.
“Play dirty how?”
Leaning back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, Silver said, “Well, that’s something you need to figure out. But, you know Ann, I don’t. Think on it.”
“Here you go, Black. This will fix you right up,” Jane said, putting the drink down in front of me.
Taking the glass and chugging it, my face twisted in a grimace; whatever was in it tasted like rotten feet or some shit. I needed water to get this taste out of my mouth. “Thanks, Jane; I appreciate you making the drink for me,” I said as I got up to go grab a water.
“No problem. Hope everything works out with you and Ann.”
“Me too,” I grumbled as I left the kitchen.
Now, to figure out the best way to approach Ann. It was Saturday, so she should be home. Who was watching her today? Feeling even more like shit since I didn’t know. I should have been on top of her safety. I sent a text to Kickstand to see who was lined up for duty. Only to have him respond with a middle finger.