Okay, that was not a polished lie. But somehow it hurt too.
“Go,” Elden said, nodding to the door.
I did as he asked.
ChapterTwelve
Somehow,nobody noticed me walk back into the common room on unsteady legs with mussed hair and red cheeks. Nobody noticed that I’d transformed into an entirely different person than I had been when I walked in.
Bennett was all the way in the corner. Macy and Freya had obviously taken pity on him and were laughing with glasses of wine in their hands, keeping him entertained and comfortable. They were the safest people for him to speak to. They wouldn’t challenge him to a fistfight, bomb making competition or whatever it was that the Sons of Templar did to outsiders to make them prove their worth.
I needed to find a way to pull myself together before I spoke to him or encountered my mother, who thankfully, was sitting on a sofa with Swiss who was whispering something into her ear that made her blush.
I had time.
I also had to figure out what the fuck I was going to say to Bennett to make him leave, not touch me and not humiliate or hurt him all at the same time. I was pretty sure there was no way to do all of that. Many women had tried all kinds of polite, kind, considerate ways to break up with men, yet there were still a lot of angry, dangerous men out there, blaming their ‘crazy’ exes for all of their problems.
Bennett didn’t seem like the type of guy to go crazy, but they never did. My father was much beloved around town and likely to be thought of last on a list of men who might secretly beat their wives.
Then again, if Bennett tried to do anything, he’d have an entire motorcycle club after him, and I knew for certain he was nowhere near that stupid.
“Your hair looks … a little different than it did when you first walked in here,” someone commented playfully.
My hands went upward, smoothing the wayward strands manically as Colby grinned at me from ear to ear.
“And your cheeks,” he continued. “So rosy. Is your lipstick smudged?”
My other hand went to my mouth.
He chuckled. “Chill, dude. I’m just fucking with you.”
I scowled at him.
“Your boyfriend has been mighty concerned about your whereabouts,” he jerked his head to the corner of the room.
Bennett finally saw me, his eyes flaring with relief and worry.
There was a twinge of guilt, but barely. There should’ve been a lot more.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “I need booze.”
“Well, it seems you could use a cigarette too,” he winked. “But we can’t smoke around the kids and those things will kill you.” He held up two large shot glasses, full of clear liquid. “This will kill you too, but slower, and it’s much more fun.”
“I could kiss you.”
His eyes darted behind me, focusing on something. “Please don’t,” he requested. “I enjoy my arms being attached to the rest of me.”
I looked to where his attention had strayed to. Elden was walking back into the room, his expression blank, his cheeks not rosy, his hair neat… Well, neat for him, at least. In short, he looked like the brooding, hot guy he always did. Not the broody hot guy who had just fucked his friend’s daughter within an inch of her life.
He didn’t even spare me a glance.
“As much as thisdelightsme,” Colby began, “and it does, for you. Not for the club,” he grimaced. “This is fucking horrible for the club and could start a civil war or some shit. So maybe try your best to keep it on the down low, at least until the holiday season is over with. Maybe when your little brother is walking, Swiss will be less homicidal then.” He blew out a long exhale through his teeth. “Or maybe more homicidal, who knows with that fucker.”
I snatched the tequila shot off him, downing it in one, savoring the burn.
“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him,” Colby grunted. There was no more playful teasing in his tone. This was him being the big, bad, dangerous biker.
“Even though he would probably beat me in hand-to-hand combat,” he added, eyes dancing. “I’d have to get imaginative, a little underhanded, catch him while his back is turned.” He reached out to squeeze my hand. “But seriously, babe. He fucks this up, he’s the problem. Not you.”