Page 24 of Hash

“Makes sense,” Hash responds, but I can hear the disappointment in his voice. “Want to take this outside?”

Sure.

Let’s have this conversation in the same place you ripped my heart out and stomped on it. It only seems fitting.

“Yeah.” I grab the bag of food off the counter and follow him out.

“Who is watching… fuck. I never asked anything about our kid. Don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl. I’m already fucking this up. Goddamnit,” Hash growls, throwing himself down on the lounger, making it creak in a way I thought it might break.

I down the rest of the champagne, hoping it will take the emotions threatening to come out down with it as I sit down on the outdoor couch. I watch a dead leaf fall to the ground, reminding me that even trees let dead things go.

Is our relationship dead?

As mad as I am at Hash, I still can’t stand to see him upset like this. I know firsthand how overwhelming this all is, even if he did bring this on himself.

“We have a son.” I give in, throwing him a bone as I take the food containers out. My appetite is gone, but I need something to busy myself with or I’m going to go crazy.

“A son?” Hash croaks. “What’s his name?”

“Cormac.”

Hash sucks in a sharp breath, startling me. “Son of the raven. That’s a powerful name.”

I smile weakly at him. “I know, Lachlan.”

That’s one of the things Hash and I bonded over, both of our parents being from Ireland. We were both born in the States, though. As soon as I found out I was having a boy, I knew immediately that’s what I would name him. Frankie thought I was nuts for not spending hours upon hours searching through name blogs.

Never in my life had I felt more connected to a man as I did that night when we were talking about where we came from. I know he felt it too, or else he wouldn’t have shared his legal name with me. He made me feel special that night with knowing I’m one of the few people who know it.

“You don’t know how sorry I am that I left you alone.” Hash breaks the silence.

“Why?” I ask as I pop the lid off the takeout container. “You’re the one who said I don’t belong in your world. If someone doesn’t belong, I don’t know why you would be sorry you left them alone.”

“I know you aren’t going to believe me when I say this, but I didn’t mean it the way you’ve taken it.”

“Let me guess, you’re going to try to spin this into some weird explanation and make me feel like I’m the crazy one?”

Hash shakes his head. “Not at all. I said you don’t belong in my world because I don’t want you in it. Bad things happen to good people in my world. If something happened to you because of me… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“Do you know how fucked up that sounds?” I ask in disbelief.

“I was trying to protect you,” Hash says defensively, the edge in his voice making the hairs on my skin stand up.

“Cut the bullshit, Lachlan. Do I look like a dumb bitch to you?”

We’re five minutes in and I’m already ready to shove this bottle of champagne up his ass.

“Watch it, baby doll,” Hash warns.

“You watch it! Are you hearing yourself right now? The entire world is fucked up, not just yours. Bad things happen to good people all the time. It’s just the way it is. That’s what makes them bad people,” I rant as I shake my head. “What you did has nothing to do with your club or your world. What you did was selfish as fuck. You’ve never once thought about me. Everything from day one has been about you. All you wanted to do was to get your dick wet.”

Hash’s hand quickly reaches out, gripping my jaw and turning my head so I’m looking at him. His fingers are digging in just enough to hurt a little, letting me know he isn’t fucking around.

His eyes are hard, angry swirls in the depths of them.

“I didn’t think about you?” he bites out, his voice dangerously low. “You’re all I fucking think about. I can’t get you out of my goddamn head. So much to the point I can’t get my dick up around any other bitch.” Tugging at my head, I try to get out of his hold, but his fingers dig in harder, holding me in place. “No, you’re going to look me in my fucking eyes when I tell you this so I know you heard it. And you better fucking hear it. I know the world is a fucked-up place. But if I can do something about it to make sure nothing happens to you, I’m going to fucking do it. That’s called being a man. Call me selfish one more time and I’m going to bend you over my knee and spank your ass raw. Everything I’ve done is for you. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” I whisper.