Page 41 of Gatsby's Starlet
“I won’t.”
Her eyes found mine again, searching, making sure, not willing to leave anything uncertain between us. “Swear it.”
I held her gaze. “I swear.”
That seemed to appease her. A little, but not much.
She dragged a hand through her hair, pacing once before stopping again, her voice shifting back toward something more controlled, more like the Ruby I knew, even if the edges of it were still frayed. “You’re still coming with me tomorrow,” she said.
I stared at her, the weight of what I’d just done settling in, heavy and immovable. “Ruby—”
“This isn’t optional,” she cut in, not raising her voice this time, not needing to, the certainty in it enough on its own. “If you care about her—about any of this—you’ll come.”
That landed exactly where she meant it to, I could feel it, because now it wasn’t just about me or her anymore, it was something bigger, something worse, and I had just made it more dangerous.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I WAS SINGINGunder my breath as I cut theengine and swung off my bike, the quiet settling in around me in that way it only did out here, like the world stopped a few feet past the treeline. I headed toward the clubhouse, boots hitting the steps, then slowed halfway up and veered off toward the back instead, not even sure why, just knowing I didn’t want to walk into the noise yet, didn’t want to lose the rare, content feeling sitting in my chest like something I didn’t quite trust but didn’t want to disturb either.
“I can’t do this!”
I froze. It was Brenda. Her voice carried from the side of the building, loud enough to cut through everything.
“You can’t keep seein’ him!”
Shit. Horse.
I dragged a hand down my face and leaned back against the wood, staring up into the dark like maybe if I stayed still enough, I wouldn’t be part of it. Should’ve just gone in the damn front.
“You don’t get to dictate my life,” Brenda shot back, her voice shaking in a way that didn’t sit right. “You made it real clear I was never gonna be more than a warm body now and again.”
“That’s not fuckin’ true,” Horse snapped, fast and angry, like he needed it to be.
“Isn’t it?” she said, quieter this time, and I almost missed it. “I deserve more than that. I deserve to be loved, and Tom—” she let out a breath, shaky but stubborn, “—Tom makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. You can’t ever love me like that. Not while you’re still livin’ with a ghost.”
That one hit. Even from where I stood, I felt it land.
There was a beat, heavy, thick, the kind that meant something broke and nobody was saying it out loud, then footsteps, quick and uneven, and I pushed off the wall just as Brenda came around the corner, her head down, wiping at her face like she didn’t want anyone to see.
She didn’t even notice me, but I didn’t get two steps before I slammed straight into something solid. Horse.
“What the fuck are you doin’ out here?” he growled, voice frustrated and dangerous, his face set hard enough I didn’t doubt for a second he’d tear into the first person who gave him a reason.
“I was heading in through the back,” I said, keeping my tone easy, careful. “Trying to avoid the noise.”
He stared at me like he didn’t believe a damn word, jaw tight, eyes still burning from whatever just went down. “Well then get movin’,” he snapped, brushing past me hard enough to make the point, disappearing into the dark without another word.
I watched him go, shaking my head. Guy was his own worst enemy.
Twenty years his wife had been gone, and he was still standing in the same place like time owed him something. Meanwhile Brenda stuck it out longer than most would’ve,putting up with his moods, his distance, all that shit, and now that she was finally trying to move on, he couldn’t handle it.
Didn’t make sense. Then again… what did I know.
“What the hell…” I muttered under my breath when movement caught my eye, a shadow slipping out from the same stretch of darkness Brenda had come from.
“Tillie?”
“Oh—hey, Gatsby,” she said, a little too quick, a little too breathless.
