Page 136 of Matlock
Matlock
“Matlock.”
King’s voice cut through the chaos in my head like a fucking blade.
I turned, my hand still pressed against Simon’s back. King approached us, Cash and Jingles flanking him like they were ready for war. The other club members were watching from their seats, their expressions ranging from amused to dead fucking serious.
No one looked surprised.
They know.
The thought hit me like a freight train, and my entire body went cold.
They fucking know.
My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack. “King—”
“We’ve known for a long fucking time,” King said simply, stopping a few feet away. His gaze was steady, unflinching, the kind of look that made men piss themselves. “About you, about Simon. About all of it.”
My entire body went rigid. Every muscle locked down, every nerve firing in panic. Simon’s hand flattened against my stomach. A touch that normally grounded me, now caused fear to well up in my throat like bile.
No. No, no, no...
“What the fuck?!” The words came out strangled, barely coherent.
They knew. How long? How fucking long had they been watching me? Judging me? Waiting for me to...
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, brother,” Cash said, his tone sharp as a knife. “The way you look at him. The way you lose your shit anytime some motherfucker gets too close. We’re not fucking blind.”
Oh God.
My chest tightened, my lungs refusing to work properly.
“We were waiting for you to tell us,” King continued, his voice low and dangerous. “Waiting for you to be ready. We got tired of fucking waiting.”
Hide.
The word hit me like a punch to the gut.
That was what I’d been doing, wasn’t it? Hiding. My whole fucking life I’d been hiding who I was. For six fucking years, I’d been hiding Simon, hiding the truth of what I felt for him because I was too much of a goddamn coward to let anyone else see it.
Julia.
Her face flashed through my mind, her smile, her laugh, the way she’d looked at me with so much love and acceptance even when I’d told her the truth about who I was.
And then the other memory. The one that never fucking left me.
Her boyfriend, shoving me to my knees, standing over me.
“I—” My voice cracked. “I didn’t—”
I didn’t want this. I didn’t want them to know. I didn’t want to put Simon in danger. I didn’t want to lose anyone else.
“We don’t give a fuck,” Jingles said, his voice hard as concrete. “You’re our brother. Simon’s family. That’s all that fucking matters to us.”
Family.
The word should have been comforting. Should have made me feel safe.
