here, I don't give a shit. You're going home."
"No. I'm not." She raised her chin. "I'm going back inside. My break will be over in a few minutes, and I plan on finishing my shift."
She walked past him, expecting him to grab her. When she pushed through the door, she almost looked behind her to see why he wasn't stopping her, but Lance stood inside the bar, waiting for her.
Wanting to save face, she slowed her steps and went into the back to wash her hands and rid herself of the flannel shirt, marking her as belonging to Tarkio Motorcycle Club.
Not wasting a second or giving herself a chance to fall apart, she walked out of the breakroom, hoping no one could see how hard her heart hammered inside her chest. She went straight to the bar and picked up the orders waiting to be made. She would've checked in with the other waitresses, but her legs wouldn't support her through the crowd of customers.
Damn, Curley.
Why would he pick tonight to come here?
He spent most of his time at the clubhouse where he had all the women he wanted, endless alcohol and drugs, and men who supported his hard lifestyle. There was no reason for him to come to Kingston Bar.
Her eyes burned. Why couldn't he accept that he'd never take their relationship seriously and let her go?
Before she had sex with him, he was the closest person she had in her life since Uncle Walker went to prison. She'd gone to him for every problem, no matter how big or small.
Grandma June, for how much Faye loved her, was old and hadn't understood her generation. By the time she was fourteen years old, instead of getting guidance from her great-grandma, she'd stepped up into the role of taking care of Grandma June.
It was hard and lonely, and she'd spent a lot of days struggling to hold it together, knowing that she'd soon be left alone again. And, the death she knew was in the house with them had taken Grandma June before Faye was ready to be on her own.
She was left with a house, a dwindling nursery business, and a deep loneliness dwelling inside of her.
Inhaling deeply, she stopped the tears from escaping. She was stupid and immature to believe sleeping with Curley would keep him in her life.
Most of all, she hated how desperately she loved him. Seeing him here made her breathless, excited, and wet. For one second, she'd hoped the first words out of his mouth had to do with how much he wanted her, but they weren't.
He only wanted her away from Kingston Bar. It had nothing to do with her, but him. Him and his damn motorcycle club.
Lance approached her. She stood straighter, determined not to let her past ruin her future.
"Are you connected to Tarkio Motorcycle Club?" asked Lance.
"No."
Curley might have something different to say, but he couldn't claim she belonged to him when he lived his life and usually left her alone. She'd even gone out on a few dates, just to see if he'd notice, and nothing ever happened, with the other boys or with Curley.
He didn't care about her in the same way she cared about him. Even tonight, she internally wanted him. She wished he'd haul her over his shoulder in a big show of ownership and take her home.
Lance's gaze hardened. "I hope that's true because I can't have them hanging out around here. If they show up again, you and your friends are out of here."
"Understood." She glanced at Stephanie, hovering nearby.
Warmth flooded her body. She needed no one to tell her that her face was flushed from embarrassment, disappointment, and anger.
Curley was the only one who could have her emotions all over the place. She wanted to scream and hit at the same time as she wanted to slink under the table and bawl her eyes out.
She needed to go to the prison and talk to Uncle Walker. He was the only one who had a chance at helping her cut Curley out of her life. Maybe then the scars on her heart would heal.
Chapter 10
Curley
The garage door went up, and Faye turned her car into the driveway.
Curley pulled in behind her, parking outside. He still thought of the house as belonging to Grandma June, but Faye had rightly gained ownership upon her grandma's death and had taken care of the place on her own for the last six years.
Not once had she called for