Bittersweet (Redemption Book 3) Read online

  Well, I thought to myself, fighting back a smirk. This is definitely an interesting development.

  Shane

  “You need to slither back into the hole you crawled out of, Rina. You’re embarrassing yourself, which is really saying something, seeing as you’re you.”

  From my peripheral vision, I saw Jensen curl his lips between his teeth to keep from laughing out loud as Rina pushed off the table and glowered at me. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  I didn’t miss a beat as I replied, “It means everything you say and do would humiliate a normal person into never leaving their house. The fact that you’ve actually managed to top that doesn’t make you an overachiever, it just makes you a pathetic joke.”

  “Ah shit,” Gage mumbled, looking down at his clasped hands on the table in an attempt to hide his grin.

  “Bitch! Who you callin’ pathetic?”

  At that, I rolled my eyes and let out a groan. “God, she even takes the fun out of insulting her,” I said to no one in particular.

  Rina took a step forward like she was prepared to make things physical, and Jensen pushed off his stool, as if he were ready to wade into the fray when a guy I’d seen a few times in the bar with the rest of the Riders spoke up. “We got a problem over here?”

  If I had to guess, the dude was in his mid-to-late thirties and roughly the same height and weight as Jensen, and it couldn’t go without saying that he was damn fine. Jensen moved closer, stepping in front of me like he was worried the guy was about to cause trouble, and partially obscuring me behind him.

  I might not have been feeling like myself tonight, but I wasn’t in the mood for his protection, not after I’d seen Rina’s grubby little hands all over him. I’d been standing at the bar, chatting with Poppy and Wynn who’d arrived a few minutes earlier when I saw her approach their table. Jealousy had surged through me so hard and fast that it was frightening. I’d reacted without thinking, leaving my friends behind and storming over to their table to make it stop. That was all I could think about, making it stop and getting her as far away from Jensen as humanly possible. Preferably to somewhere like Alaska.

  I didn’t know this guy, but I assumed that since he was the one to get up and approach, he was in charge somehow. If there was anyone in this situation who could get Rina the hell out of Jensen’s space, it was this guy.

  Moving from behind Jensen, I stopped at his side and informed the man, “Not to tell you who you should or shouldn’t be hanging with, but you may want to re-think your association with this one,” I told him, jerking my chin in Rina’s direction.

  I was halfway expecting him to get hostile, so when one corner of his mouth hooked up, I was slightly surprised. And it had to be said, that partial grin wasn’t the worst thing to look at. “Really? ’Cause it sure seems like that’s exactly what you’re doin’.”

  I shrugged like it was nothing. “Just doing my part to help mankind out. She’s a brand of trouble that’s just not worth the hassle.”

  At that, Rina lunged, snarling, “Fuckin’ cunt!” Her arms lashed out, but before she could get hold of me, the big guy’s smile fell into a frown as he grabbed her and yanked her to a stop. Letting out a sharp whistle that had everyone in the bar coming to a dead stop in whatever they were doing, he glanced over his shoulder and issued a command. “Bane, come get your bitch on a leash before I do it for you.”

  Another guy appeared all of a sudden, wordlessly taking Rina’s arm and dragging her toward the exit as she spewed her special brand of nasty with every step.

  “Sorry about that,” he continued, his eyes never wavering from mine. A tiny thrill shot up my spine at the sound of a low growl rumbling up from Jensen’s throat as he moved even closer, grabbing my arm to pull me behind him once more.

  The burn of jealousy had finally started to peter out, but seeing this side of Jensen heated my blood in a completely different, far more pleasant way.

  The dude gave him a cursory glance before turning on his boot heel and heading back toward his table where the rest of his guys—minus Bane—still sat.

  “You good?” Jensen asked, his rough fingers coming up beneath my chin so he could tilt my face up to his. It was a move he used to do all the time whenever he wanted my attention. Even if I was listening while looking somewhere else, he’d gently take my chin and bring my eyes to his. He’d said it was because he could read everything I was thinking or feeling when he looked in them. I hadn’t realized until that very moment how much I’d missed that simple touch.

  All of a sudden, it was a struggle to breathe. “Uh, y-yeah. I’m good. Fine.”

  He was staring so hard I could have sworn he was looking directly inside of me as he asked, “You on break yet?”

  I nodded, that fleeting touch still making it difficult to talk.

  With his hand on my back, Jensen began guiding me through the jumble of tables and people toward the hallway at the back. A shiver bloomed across my skin at the press of his palm against me, spreading wide until goosebumps popped up along my skin and my breathing grew erratic.

  I was careful not to look in the direction of the pool tables, knowing if I did I’d see the disapproval on both my uncle’s and brother’s faces. I couldn’t deal with that just then, not when I was already a tired, confused, tangled mess of emotions.

  The door to the office creaked as it closed, the catch of the locking mechanism sounding as loud as a gunshot in the quiet room, alerting me to the glaring fact that Jensen and I were all alone in here.

  I moved to the desk, forcing myself to put some space between us, even though my body missed the warm, strong heat of his hand at my back. Turning to face him where he stood just a few feet inside the office, I leaned back, resting my hips on the desk and holding onto the edge with both hands. “So what’s going on? What did you want to talk about?”

  “At the risk of undoing any of the progress I think I’ve made lately, I’m going to admit something that probably won’t make you very happy.”

  Panic gripped my chest like a vice. I’d become pretty damn good at dealing with disappointment and heartbreak over the years, but the kind of pain Jensen had caused was totally different. What he’d done in the past, it hadn’t just been disappointing to me. He’d damn near broken me, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to survive another blow.

  I imagined the worst. I imagined him telling me he was leaving again, and that he needed me to try and explain to our son why he would no longer be around. The thought made me curl my fingers around the lip of the desk so hard my knuckles groaned and throbbed. It hurt. It physically hurt, and not just because it would break Brantley’s heart, but also because it would break mine all over again. I told myself I hated him a million times, but if I were being honest with myself, I didn’t. I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t really hate him. I’d once loved him too damn much. “Just say it,” I demanded, my voice a barely-there whisper. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

  His head jerked back in bewilderment. “What? No. God, Shane, no. I’m never leaving you or Brant again. I swear it.”

  The relief was almost enough to take me to my knees. “Then what is it?” I croaked, my throat feeling like it was being squeezed.

  “I had Laeth look into you. I had him do a little digging into your past, specifically, the years I was gone.”

  It took a full minute for what he’d just said to properly penetrate. Once it did my first thought was why? That was, until it dawned on me why someone would go to such lengths for information.

  Shooting up from the desk, I pointed an accusing finger in Jensen’s face as I clipped, “If you think you can dig up something on me that’ll make getting custody of Brantley easier, you’re sadly mistaken. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you take my boy from me. Over. My. Dead. Body, Jensen Rose!” I snapped each word while brutally stabbing my finger into his chest.

  “It isn’t that,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist and flatteni
ng my palm against his chest. “Christ, Shane. Will you just let me fuckin’ finish? I’m not trying to take Brantley from you. I’d never do that. You’re an incredible mother.”

  “Then why?” I demanded to know, pulling in vain to free my hand. He wasn’t letting go.

  “Because I needed to know where the fuck the money went,” he barked, the words so outlandish and ridiculous I stopped struggling.

  “What?”

  “The account I set up for you and Brantley right before I left,” he continued, still not making a damn bit of sense. “You never finished your degree, your car should’ve been traded in years ago, and your house is a fucking disaster!”

  “My house is perfectly fine!” I shouted defensively while wrenching my arm away so hard he had no choice but to let go to prevent me from hurting myself. “I’m doing the best I can. Who the hell are you to judge me when you’re the one who walked out!”

  Jensen squeezed his eyes closed and placed his hands on his hips, pulling in a huge breath while dropping his head like he was working hard to calm down. When he finally looked back at me, the storm that had formed in his gaze had banked, and his words came out much softer.

  “I’m not judging. I just need to know where it went, sunshine. That was a lot of money, and as far as I can tell, you don’t have much of anything to show for it.”

  “What money?” I asked, throwing my arms wide.

  “I pulled five hundred grand from my trust before I enlisted. I set it up in an account for you and Brantley, and I’ve been making deposits into it every month for the past five years.”

  I suddenly felt like the wind had been knocked right out of me. Stumbling back, I tripped over my own feet and slammed into the desk, bracing my hands against it to keep from falling. “I—you—No. No, you didn’t. That’s not—I haven’t . . .” My brain glitched, turning into that spinning rainbow pinwheel of death that popped up on my laptop last summer right before it kicked the bucket, never to be fixed.

  “Shane?” Jensen’s voice sounded like it was coming from deep inside a tunnel, like the teacher in all those Charlie Brown cartoons. Wha wom wom wha wom.

  “I didn’t . . . I never got any money.”

  His eyes bulged before narrowing into slits, the gray in them turning nearly black. “That doesn’t make sense. I had my father set it up through his attorney and everything. I still have access to the account. I can log on at any time to check the balance, that’s how I know it’s all gone.”

  “Jensen, I never got any money,” I insisted, stressing each and every word that came out of my mouth. “Not a single dime.”

  “That motherfucker,” he snarled, his face twisting up, taking on a look I’d seen more times that I’d cared to. It was the look he got right before he exploded, right before he beat the holy hell out of someone. “He fucking lied to me. We had a goddamn deal. I’d give up the only thing that mattered as long as he held up his part of the bargain.”

  Oh my God.

  I knew what he was saying was monumental. I didn’t understand it, but I could still feel the heaviness of his words. But I was too busy trying to control the swirling in my head to focus on them. It was a puzzle I couldn’t piece together because right then, everything was getting really freaking hazy.

  He’d pulled from his trust fund. He’d taken some of the money he’d sworn to himself he’d never touch because it was tied to his family. Blood money, he’d called it on several occasions. He’d told me it could sit there and rot for all he cared because that money was tainted. But he’d pulled it out. For me. And I’d never known. How the hell did I not know?

  My hand shook as I lifted it up and pressed it against my forehead, my arm so heavy it felt like it had been dipped into cement. It was too much. Everything was too damn much. The exhaustion, being on my feet for hours, dealing with Rina’s shit, and now this. A domino had been knocked over, toppling the rest of them with it.

  “I-I don’t feel so good.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jensen

  Shane pushed off the desk and attempted to take a step, only to wobble from side to side like a baby trying to take its first steps.

  “Whoa, shit.” Reaching out, I grabbed her before she could fall and pulled her against me. “You okay, honey?”

  Her trembling hand came up to brush some hair off her face and I saw up close she’d gone really pale. “Got really lightheaded there for a second. I think . . . I think I’m okay now.”

  Like hell she was. “Come on. I’m taking you home. You look like you’re seconds away from passing out.”

  “Bunny, stop. I can’t leave.”

  My feet rooted to the floor as I looked down at her. That was the first “bunny” I’d gotten in more than five years. That nickname had been a joke between us. It started as Snuggle Bunny whenever she wanted to be funny or a smartass, and had eventually been shortened to bunny, which she used all the time. I never in my life thought I would have missed being called “bunny,” but Christ, I did. I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d call me that if she wasn’t suddenly loopy as hell, but it still felt really fucking good to hear.

  “You aren’t fine. Jesus, Shane, you nearly fell right on your ass.” Looping my arm around her waist, I pulled her against my side, holding her tight, and fuck if it didn’t feel good to have her pressed against me.

  “It’s nothing,” she continued to argue. “I’ve just been really tired, then there was that drama earlier with Rina, and I think I might’ve forgotten to eat dinner.” She paused, her face scrunching up in thought. “Actually, I’m not sure I had lunch either.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I looked at her with a severe frown as I led us out of the office and down the hall. “How do you not remember if you’ve eaten all damn day or not?”

  She glared up at me but had stopped struggling, giving me more of her weight, which just proved she really did feel like hell no matter what she claimed. “You try taking care of a five-year-old all by yourself every single day while trying to keep him from tearing the house down, having worked until two AM the morning before. I’m lucky if I remember to wear a bra or brush my teeth half the time. One time I actually left the house to go grocery shopping with two different shoes on and my leggings inside out.”

  Fuck me, that hurt. Not the shoes or leggings part. That was actually pretty damn funny, but the part about having to do and be everything for our son. I’d put her in that position, so whatever she was feeling right now, it was all on me.

  “I’m here now,” I said in a gentle voice. “I’m sorry I made you do it by yourself for so long, but I’m here, and I want to help. Let me help you, sunshine.”

  She tilted her head back as we reached the mouth of the hallway, those honey eyes warmer than I’d seen them in months. I thought she might actually grace me with that smile I loved so much, but before she had a chance, a hard, angry voice shattered the moment.

  “What the hell’s goin’ on here? You mind tellin’ me why the fuck you’re groping my sister?”

  Well shit.

  Stone stood in front of us, blocking our path, with Scooter at his side, both of them scowling at where my arm rested on Shane’s hip with murder in their eyes.

  “I’m taking her home,” I answered, calmly. “She isn’t feeling well. She nearly passed out back there.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” she blustered. “I’m fine.”

  “Jesus, girl,” Scooter admonished, taking her in and seeing the same worrisome weakness and lack of color that I did. “Always puttin’ too much on your shoulders and not takin’ proper care of yourself. You gotta go home.”

  “If she needs to leave, I’ll take her,” Stone interjected, lifting his arm toward Shane.

  I shifted before his hand could latch on, twisting so she was out of reach. “I said I got her. I’ll get her home safely.”

  I recognized the look on his face as one I’d worn a whole hell of a lot when I was younger. It was the look a man got when he
wanted to beat the shit out of someone. “Listen here, dickhead. I don’t know who you think you are, but Shane isn’t goin’ anywhere with you.”

  “Everything okay over here?”

  Fucking hell. Could this night go downhill any faster? I turned my attention to Gage and Laeth who had just walked up, eyeing the other men like they were ready to throw down any second.

  “We’re good. I’m just taking Shane home.”

  Stone took a menacing step closer. “What part of ‘she’s not goin’ anywhere with you’ didn’t sink into your brain, asshole?”

  I didn’t back down. “And what part of ‘your sister isn’t feeling well and nearly passed the fuck out’ didn’t penetrate yours? You wanna get in a pissing match, any other time, I’m game, but right now she’s all I care about, so step the fuck aside.”

  At that moment, Farah decided to join the fray, pushing and giving her friend a concerned frown. “What’s going on? Shane, honey, are you okay?”

  “She’s not,” I answered at the same time she replied, “I’m good.”

  Farah, seeing the state of Shane and having a kind heart insisted, “Sweetie, I’ll get Darla to help me cover the rest of your shift. We can handle it. You just go home and rest.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue, but her head began to list to the side all of a sudden as she slurred, “Is it just me or did the floor get really spinny?”

  “That’s it. Come on, squirt. I’m taking you home.”

  Stone moved in again. A growl rumbled from my chest as I clenched my teeth and hissed, “You need to back the hell away from my woman. I said I got this. Now get the fuck outta my way.”

  “Your woman?” He let out a barbed laugh. “Motherfucker, she’s not your—”

  “For the love of Christ, enough!” Scooter boomed. “You two are standin’ here arguin’ like a bunch of pansy-ass babies when my Shaney girl’s damn near dead on her feet. Knock it the fuck off. Stone, step the hell aside and let him get her outta here. You can check in on her later when she’s feeling better.”