Temper (Knights of Fury #3) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,78
which is fair enough. I’m sure it’s not every day a woman from your past calls you and tells you, ‘By the way, you have a grown child.’ And let’s not forget his...career choices. He probably knows he’s not role model material.”
The whole thing is just sad. It’s probably no one’s fault. I mean, Mom should have been honest, but she did what she thought was best at the time, and that’s all there is to it. There’s no point thinking about the what-ifs. It is what it is.
“Maybe we misjudged him,” Temper thinks out loud. “What if he’s not so bad as we’ve made him out to be? I mean, look at the reputation the Knights get, and we’re not all bad.”
“You’re not bad to the people on your side,” I remind him, arching my brow.
“And what if he’s the same?”
I pause for a moment, considering. “He might be,” I agree. “But according to what you have all heard, he’s the main drug distributor in the city. That is not a good man. That’s a man who gives no fucks about his actions, or the pain he causes people. That’s a coldhearted man who sees money, and that’s it.”
“You’re probably right...”
But maybe I’m not.
Maybe I’m being a hypocrite, and maybe I’m holding him to a higher standard than I am holding everyone else to.
“When did things get so damn difficult?” I groan, burying my face in his chest. “I’m just going to stay here forever and never move again. I’m done with being an adult.”
His chest moves as he laughs. “It will be fine; the worst of it is over. You told your mom you’re moving, which was the hardest part. Tomorrow I’ll help you pack so you don’t have too much to do, and then I’ll head home. You spend a week with your family, and then I’ll come back to pick you up.”
“I can just drive there. I need to bring my car anyway,” I say, raising my eyes to his. “There’s no point you driving all the way back here.”
“You sure?” he asks, frowning. “Nah, I want to come and get you. After not seeing you for a whole week, I’m going to be going crazy.”
“You’ll survive,” I tease, pushing off his body, and sit on the edge of the bed. The hotel room is identical to the one we had our first date in, which is pretty cute, and brings back those memories. “Have you spoken to Saint? Anything happened back home?”
“Back home, hey?” he murmurs, smile in his voice.
“You know what I mean,” I say, laughing as he pulls me back down on top of him. I guess I have already started seeing the clubhouse as my new home, without even realizing it.
“I like that you’re already thinking of it as your home,” he whispers in my ear, sending goose bumps all over my skin. “The thought of you living there makes me so happy, you have no idea.”
“Good,” I say, and moan as he places a soft, tingling kiss on the side of my neck.
“And everything is fine back home. No drama,” he assures me, kissing me again. “Life is probably waiting for us to return before it throws some more shit at us.”
“You know what they say, you’re only given what you can handle,” I breathe, arching my neck as he continues to torture me.
“Well then, we can handle anything.”
I feel like we’re definitely going to test that theory.
* * *
After packing up everything I want to take back with me and loading some of it into Temper’s car, we go sightseeing, and do a hike together up one of the mountains.
“This is our first time doing exercise together,” I say, turning back to point at him. “Besides boxing and sex.”
“I was about to say.” He smirks, placing his hands on my hips. “I don’t know, though—we’ve done a lot of running into cars to get away from being shot.”
“That’s true,” I admit, panting as we make it to the top. “How are you not dying right