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“Don’t call me that,” I groaned.
“Forget her. She ain’t cut out for this life. You think a school teacher can handle our world?” Her eyes flashed, almost shimmering.
I took a long drag of my beer, set it down with a thud, and faced her. The bar light flickered off her too-smug smirk.
“Eliza’s got more guts and grit in her pinky than you could muster on your best day, Tara,” I shot back, my tone cold as steel. “She might not ride with us, but she’s realer than half the folks in this room.”
But Tara, hell, she wasn’t one to back off easy. She laughed, that irritating cackle of hers echoing a bit too loud. I remembered all too well how often I choked her to orgasm, thinking about ringing her neck to shut her up.
Tara’s smile faltered for a moment before she composed herself, running a manicured nail along the rim of her glass. “You’ve always had a thing for the ones you can’t catch,” she sneered, her voice dripping venom. “But mark my words, Knox, she’ll never truly understand our world. When things get rough—and they will—or more likely, when she finds out about you, about us… she’ll run for the hills.”
I lost it a bit then. “Enough, Tara. I didn’t ask for your fuckin’ two cents on my personal life. You don’t know a goddamn thing about my woman or what she’s capable of,” I barked, louder than I meant to, pullin’ a few curious looks from the others in the club.
Tara’s eyes narrowed, her face twisting into that familiar spiteful sneer. “She your woman now? She know that? … I know enough to say that people like her, they don’t mix with folks like us. You’ll see. Once she gets to know the real you, the Knox we know, she’ll break your heart, and then where will you be? Crawlin’ back to…”
“That’s enough!” My voice boomed, turning more than a few heads in the crowd. “I ain’t gonna warn you again. Back the hell off and stay out of my business.”
Her expression turned icy, realizing maybe for the first time, her meddling wasn’t welcome. With a scornful huff, Tara flipped her hair and stormed off, her heels clacking against the floor like gunfire.
Watching her retreat, my jaw clenched, my thoughts a mess—not just from her taunts but from that nagging doubt she’d planted. Could Eliza really handle this life, or was I just setting us up for a spectacular crash? There was truth to Tara’s words. I’d been easy on Eliza, luring her in.
Fuck. I didn’t just fuck her. I made love to her. Being with Eliza, her innocence allowed me to be a different man for once in my life, but it was only a matter of time before she found out about me. Doubts darkened my mind, but I pushed them back. I had to have faith in what me and Eliza had, believe it could stretch over any trouble. Any hard truths.
The night wore on, filled with the usual club noise, but I kept to the back with a joint, lost in thoughts of Eliza and the complicated mess we were in. As the crowd thinned and the noise died down, I realized no amount of brotherly antics were gonna chase away the deep-seated solitude that had settled over me. Caught between two worlds, with no clear path forward, I was left wondering just how in the hell I was gonna come clean. How could I tell Eliza the truth about me after she was so angry about that fight?
Chapter 12
Eliza
Two weeks had crawled by in a tense, unyielding march of time. Each day at school felt longer than the last, the heaviness of unresolved issues with Knox pressing down on me. My phone buzzed relentlessly with his attempts to reach out, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The memory of that night we spent together—the warmth of being held by him followed by the violence outside my house—was too sharp, too fresh.
Knox had broken Mark’s nose and a few ribs. Not to mention, he’d scared my little Emma to death. He wasn’t the only one to blame. Mark had a heavy hand in all of it, I was quite aware. Besides, afterwards, Mark promised me that the judge would be hearing about the new company I kept. He thanked me for getting mixed up with outlaw bikers, saying he would finally get full custody of Emma. It was a threat. So, of course, I’d given Knox the cold shoulder since.
I was in the midst of an English lesson, the words of classic literature flowing out of me as I tried to instill some early appreciation into my second graders, when the abrupt knock at the door cut through the recitation. Two police officers, stern and official in their crisp uniforms, stood in the doorway.
The room fell silent before it filled with excited chatter. Turning, I saw the kids were staring, wide-eyed. I gave them a reassuring smile. “Just a moment, class.”
“Ms. Eliza Martin?” One of the officers asked, his voice too formal.
“Yes, that’s me,” I replied, feeling a chill crawl up my spine.
“Can you step outside into the hall?” The older of the two, a woman with sharp eyes, asked.
On edge, I stepped into the hallway, shutting the door after me, my heart pounding in my chest. Then I saw the principal, Mr. Cats practically jogging our way. Coming to relieve me? My thoughts were on Emma who was supposed to be safe at school.
“How can I help you, officers?” I asked with my heart in my throat.
The woman took a breath before speaking. “We need you to come with us, Ms. Martin. It’s about your ex-husband Mark Martin. He was found dead this morning.”
The entire planet seemed to tilt, the words not quite making sense. “Dead?” I echoed, my voice a whisper. “How? What happened?”
“We can’t discuss details here,” the male officer said. “But we need to ask you some questions, in private.”
Numb, I nodded, my mind racing as the principal told me he had arranged for a substitute teacher and would be with my class until they arrived.
“I didn’t do it,” I said out loud, suddenly frightened of the optics.
“No one is saying you did,” the male officer reassured me as we walked down the hall.
