Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“How? I never told my father who you were. I never wanted him to know. I never wanted anyone to know.”
“Lit-little too late to be ashamed of m-me now, Sunflower.”
I don’t think. I lash out, slapping him across the face with the palm of my hand.
“I said never call me that!” I scream. “And for the record, Thomas, I was never the one ashamed of you. You covered that particular issue all on your own,” I add, walking away from him, sick to my stomach.
“You n-need to listen to me. If we’re going to stop this war, we’re going to have to form an a-a-al-alliance.”
“What do you mean, alliance?”
“M-m-m-marriage.”
“You’re insane!” I growl, and then storm into my bedroom and lock the door. I’m going to ignore him until he leaves.
I don’t need him. My hand goes to my stomach. I place it where the tiny life is hiding inside me. My child doesn’t need him either. He or she will have me, and I’ll never leave it alone like Thomas left me. I sure as hell won’t marry him…
Chapter 2
Thomas
“You don’t look happy,” Grunt says when I come out of Lyla’s. He escorted me here since my dad and Ford can’t seem to agree on shit. I wanted to tell them it’s not for either one of them to decide because whatever happens is between Lyla and myself. That’s not exactly true, though. This situation is complicated because our clubs hate one another. I didn’t realize Lyla had any connection with a club. I could bitch at her for keeping that from me, but when it comes to me and her, it’s a toss-up as to who was keeping the most secrets.
Today’s meeting didn’t help matters either. After Lyla’s outburst about me calling her Sunflower, we were kind of at a standstill. I told her the clubs are about to go to war and that the two of us getting married would be the only thing that might possibly stop it. It might not have been wise to lead with that, but then again, nothing I’ve done with Lyla has been wise. She ran to her room and locked the door. I figured leaving was about the only thing to do at that point. Hopefully, she will be calmer tomorrow when she figures out that I’m not going anywhere.
“N-n-n-not much to be happy ab-b-bout.”
Fuck. I hate it when I stutter. Lyla was right about that. It has been happening more and more lately and I know that has more to do with the shit I’m feeling and going through, rather than the actual stutter. I hate it more at the moment because it shows a weakness to Lyla’s people—namely her dad and his club. Grunt is a member, but he’s also claimed Dancer’s daughter as his old lady. Dancer is our VP, and it hasn’t been an easy thing for the club to accept Grunt, but everyone respects him. It helps that Jazz loves him and he’s not ashamed to admit he feels the same. Hell, it might have even mended some fences between the clubs and paved the way for a truce if it hadn’t been for this mess with Lyla.
Dad hasn’t busted my balls over that yet, but I’m sure it’s coming. Hell, I deserve it. I fucked up royally. I know that. I knew it while I was doing it, and yet, I did it anyway. I’d like to say I didn’t realize what I was doing, that it just happened.
That would be a lie.
My ego was non-existent, and my pride blown to hell after Gabby used me. I thought she had finally begun to acknowledge that there was something between us. I thought she was the first person to see me as a man in my own right—not the one behind Dom’s shadow, not the boy who stuttered, and not Dragon West’s son.
Just me.
I was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
“You come back here, Thomas West, and it won’t be my father you should be afraid of!” Lyla screams.
I look back at the house I just left. Lyla’s upstairs in what I can only assume is her room. She’s crying, her hair is all but matted together and she’s screaming like a banshee.
“Christ,” I mutter. “We’re getting m-m-married tomorrow, Lyla,” I tell her, and shit, I’m just goading her at this point. I know it, I just can’t seem to stop.
“I’d rather hang upside down by my toenails from a thirty-foot tall building!” she huffs.
I shouldn’t laugh—and I don’t, but the laughter is close by. Lyla always made me smile—apparently, she still does, even while mad.
When I was with her, I could forget about everything—including Gabby. That wasn’t fair to her, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life’s not fair. Mostly, life’s a bitch and then you die.