Ana’s POV
It brought me no joy to hear what Sasha just said. I had let the Cook family walk all over me. I allowed it, and for that, I have some me in this, as well. I should have shut them down when they first started up, but I wanted Roger to like me. So, I humbled myself. That’s something that won’t be happening again. Just because I did it before doesn’t mean that I’m willing to do it again.
Sasha’s just angry that it’se down to this, but I did ask them to stop, repeatedly. No matter how much they try to me this on me, it’s not my fault. The judge gave the jury instructions and reminded them to follow thew. I hope there’s not another person nted on the jury. But even if there were, I think they would think twice after what just happened to Joshua Greggs. Sasha stepped down and headed to the table.
“Where is home to you, Blythe?” Karma asked her, his voice hard with a scary edge to it.
“Nowhere,” she whispered.
Nowhere? Seriously? Doesn’t she have some dipsh.it husband? A father she loves oh-so much? If not all of that, then… what about those of us she left behind?
Nah. Blythe had us all fooled. She never cared. She was never a sweet, innocent girl. She was always cold-hearted. Maybe that’s why she ended up with some sex-crazed, orgy-throwing, rich bastard for a husband.
“We’re taking you back to the club,” Karma told her. “Where you can exin to your mother yourself why you haven’t spoken to her in over six years.”
Bly scoffed.
“Like she cares,” she muttered under her breath.
I whirled around in my seat, getting in her face.
“That’s fucked up of you to say,” I spat. “She’s your fucking mother. You’re her only daughter.”
Tears filled Blythe’s eyes, and she clenched her jaw.
“She traded up for a better one, though, didn’t she?” She stated, turning her head away from me.
What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“I don’t need to go back there,” Blythe said, crossing her arms. “It’s a bad idea.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, giving her a skeptical look. “Figured once you ran away from your dear hubby, you’de running back to the club. I’m sure you could convince C.G. to knock you up, then you’d be an olddy. Protected for life.”
Blythe whipped her head back to me, ring through her tears. Well, she’s still a crybaby, but now there’s…
more. A familiar fire in there that I rarely ever saw. Fuck, I remember how I used to push her buttons just to get a rise out of her. Something about it always made me-
No, fuck that sh.it. It was purely all sexual. I was a teenage boy. And fuck Blythe has always been gorgeous.
“Because you’ve all protected me so much in the past,” she stated sarcastically, and that one statement rocked the entire car. Karma and I stiffened. Dev could sense something had shifted. Bly’s insult hit right in the gut, and it pissed me off. “I can take care of myself. I have been for a while. I don’t need you or the club or anybody else. And who the hell is C.G.?”
“What the fuck have we ever even done to you in the past?” I asked, angrily. “You got sh.it twisted, Shortcake. We never-”
“No, you got things twisted, Psycho,” Blythe spat, interrupting me. She sat up in her seat, pointing her slender finger at me. Her blue eyes narrowed into slits and my dick jumped to attention. “I’m not the same little girl anymore. I’m not happy about this. You are taking me against my will. I might not be able to do anything about that right now, but I damn sure will not sit around and pretend like I’m happy about it. You can force me toe with you, but you can’t force me to talk or deal with the same bullshit that I used to. And you damn sure don’t get to bully me anymore, Chayton Kia Hensley. So help me, I swear the first person I’ll speak a word to will be Granny Waya!”<fn8f0f> N?w ?ovel chapt?rs are published on find?novel</fn8f0f>
The car went dead silent. I was stunned. Not only because this was not the Blythe I remember, or that she’s using the woman who raised me as a threat…
But the fact that my dick is insanely hard right now.
“Go talk to her,” Kylian ordered me, his arms folded over his chest and a deep frown on his face.
I sighed as I ran a hand through my long hair. I still can’t believe Granny never let me cut it. Something about it being a Native American thing. I should probably pay more attention.
And if Granny finds out that I made Bly cry again… I’m going to be in deep sh.it. She’ll beat me and follow it with another speech about how she didn’t raise me this way and how my parents would be ashamed. I’d never actually know though, since they died when I was five. Rival club caught them when they were just having a ride one afternoon. Shot the bike, caused an ident, and they both died.
Still, I don’t want to hear it again. Or get whipped with her slipper.
With a deep breath, I trudged down the hall towards Bly’s bedroom. Now that they all live on the property with Tusk, we get to spend a lot more time together. Lately, it seems like Bly always stays here at her house though, instead ofing to the clubhouse. We all figured it was because of the trouble she got intost month.
Ang had enough of Bly’s stunts after she found out that Bly had ripped up Everly’s homework again. Not only that, but she poured juice into Everly’s backpack and put a dead fish in her locker. The pranks were getting out of hand. Ev didn’t deserve all that.
Ever since Ozias left and Ang married Tusk, Bly has been weird. I know that Evander is kind of mean to her now, but that’s because he’s trying to see her as a sister. I know that Bly is sad that Ozias has barely talked to her since he left too. In his defense, he’s been really busy, but he does write to her. He said she never wrote back. I’m not sure why he hasn’t tried to text or call her cell, or add her on social media.
When I got to Bly’s bedroom, the door was cracked open just a tad. I could see Bly sitting on her bed, facing the wall. I could really only see her back, but the way her body was shaking told me that she was crying. She was probably sobbing. The big crybaby.
Geesh, I only yelled at her a little. I mean, wee over here to try to hang out around her without getting in her space, and she’s a total bitch about it. She acted like she was nervous about being around us or something. Then, when Alex showed up, Bly acted funny, weird, strange, not herself.
The moment we left them alone to get drinks and snacks, Alex was a sobbing mess because Blythe called her a whore. Alex said that Blythe told her she was too young to wear a cropped top, and it made her look easy. I mean, Alex’s cropped top was more like a bralette, but who cares? Her body her choice, right?
So, I reacted. I yelled at Blythe and told her that she was just jealous. I said that she didn’t need to take it out on Alex just because she was too scared to wear something like that. Then I told her that she shouldn’t even try it because she wouldn’t look half as good as Alex.
I don’t know why I said it. It just slipped out. I regretted it the moment the words left my lips. Even more so when Bly looked at me like I’d just pped her and tears filled her eyes. All she did was turn around and walk away to her bedroom. It was never like Bly to fight back. She always had us to do that.
I knocked on the door and opened it the rest of the way. Blythe turned her head to me and quickly looked away. Her spine straightened as she frantically wiped at her face. I shut her door and leaned against it.
“I-I don’t want to talk to you,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Yeah, well, I have to apologize,” I said.
“Have to,” she halfheartedly huffed out. “I’ll tell them that you did. So please just go.”
“Why?” I asked, not moving from my spot.
“Because I’m mad at you, and you don’t want to be here anyway,” she said.
I was silent for a moment as I watched her. She refused to look at me and tears were still streaming down her face. She was silent other than sniffling here and there. When she wrapped her arms around herself with a look on her face that seemed like she was trying to hold herself together, something in me snapped.
I moved from the door to her bed. Blythe didn’t move, even when I sat down next to her. She sniffled again, and I reached up to brush some of her tears away.
“You look pretty when you cry,” I blurted.