They exited the office, and Kelsey followed Tate toward the bar. Killer was holding Simon in his large arms. She stared into his eyes seeing the worry reflected back at her. Dropping her gaze, she waited for Tate to handle the conversation.
“You look adorable, Killer. Terrified but adorable. Come to Mommy.” Tate lifted Simon out of Killer’s arms. “It’s time for you to see Aunty Kelsey. She loves you so much, yes, she does.” Tate was talking in a childish voice.
Holding her arms out, Kelsey cradled the little boy to her body.
“You’ll never have children. Who in their right mind would bed you? You’re useless.”
Leaning down, she inhaled Simon’s sweet scent hoping her smile stopped everyone from looking too closely at her.
“He’s so beautiful,” Kelsey said.
“Isn’t he just. You’ll be having a son of your own, Kelsey.” Tate stroked his cheek.
Her words were like a sucker punch to Kelsey’s gut. She wasn’t going to be having children or anything so enjoyable in life.
“It’s time for me to go.” She handed the baby back to Tate. “He’s perfect.” Kelsey looked at Killer. “Will you take me back home?”
“Yeah, I’ll take the truck so I can bring my bike back.”
Nodding, she waited for him to get up before following him out. She hugged Tate tight to her body.
“Come back soon, honey. You’re missed around here.”
Kelsey agreed then walked out. Killer was waiting in the truck. She climbed into the passenger side, buckled up her seatbelt and waited.
“I’m really sorry,” Killer said.
“You don’t need to be sorry about anything. You were right, Killer. I should have told you about Michael a long time ago. This is my mistake, no one else’s.” Tate may have said the club would miss her, but she’d seen the anger on their faces directed at her. They were all angry at her for her treatment of Killer. He was their brother, and they were only putting up with her because of Killer and Tate. She wasn’t an idiot, even though Tate tried to make her feel welcome. Resting her head on her palm, she stayed silent as he drove back through town toward her apartment.
When she saw Michael waiting by her building door, she tensed. Getting out of the truck she waited for Killer to load his bike into the truck. Michael closed the distance, standing beside her. She took a step away, needing some fresh air.
“You gonna piss on her?” Killer asked.
“Do I need to?”
Killer stepped up to Michael.
“Will you two stop it?” she asked, feeling mortified. Both men were incredibly good looking. They were humiliating her in the middle of the street. Anyone who passed them would smirk and point.
“She’s not your woman,” Killer said, ignoring her.
“No, she’s my wife.”
“No ring on the finger.”
Michael smirked. “There will be. I got here first, Theodore Smith. Back off.”
She turned on her heel and left the men to their c**k measuring contest. Kelsey wanted a bath and to get out of the tight shirt. Another humiliation to add to everything else she’d been through.
The truck started up, and she felt Michael close behind her. “He’s a rather pleasing gentleman,” he said.
“Leave Killer out of this. I don’t want to know how you know his real name.” She walked to her apartment, opening the door and seeing the mess.
“What the f**k happened here?”
“Nothing.”
Michael closed the door behind him. She went straight to the shattered pictures and ornament and started cleaning everything away.
“If that bastard hurt you—”
“He didn’t hurt me. Why are you still here?” She finished picking up the large pieces and then moved to her coffee table. Michael didn’t talk, and she kept working, picking up the mess. She wiped down her shelves from the coffee Killer spilt.
By the time she got her vacuum out, Michael still hadn’t said a thing. He picked her unit up and took it out of her apartment. Once she finished cleaning away the little splinters of ornaments left she sat down to look at the pictures. The glass was all gone. What remained were the frames and the pictures. The first one she came to was of Tate. She’d caught the picture at a barbeque in the compound last summer before everything went mental.
Over and over she looked at the pictures.
“How come there are none of you?” Michael asked. He stood behind her looking down.
“I never want my picture taken.”
She refused to stand in front of the camera when she clicked away. Who would want her in the picture with them?
Rubbing her eyes, she gathered up the pictures onto the coffee table.
“What do you want?” Kelsey asked.
“I’ve been informed you’re looking for a way out of our marriage. I’m here to tell you to stop looking. You’re mine, Kelsey, and you agreed to stay that way. I’m not willing to look for another woman to fill your shoes. I’ve stayed away, but you’re not reneging on our deal.”
“You’re not telling me you’ve been faithful all these years,” she said, not believing for a second he’d been without sex for eight long years.
“I f**k women when I want, Kels. I will never stop doing what I want. I simply want to keep you as my wife.”
Turning in her seat she looked at him. “Why? Why do you want me?”
He frowned. She never argued with him before. This was the first time she’d started asking questions.
Standing up, she faced him, folding her arms underneath her br**sts. “You’re a wealthy businessman who can have whoever you want. Why are you keeping me around? I’m nothing special. You can have any woman you want. Why do you want me?”
“Because you’re mine,” he said.
“This is a possession thing. Someone wants me, and now you want me? God, what is with you men? Why can’t you just leave me out of all of your crap?”
“You really don’t see your value, do you?” His searing gaze made her feel uncomfortable.
“Please leave,” she said. She no longer wanted to have this discussion with him. Michael’s actions were like a locked vault, and he would only let her see why he wanted her when he was ready.
“Fine, I’ll go, but I promise you, Kelsey, this is not over.”
She flinched when he slammed the door closed. Her life sucked. Memories of her mother’s hard words had been driving her crazy all day. Would she ever get away from what her mother did to her?