Page 14 of Dark Redemption


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Fat, mouthy bartender.

Those three words cut me to the quick. And to think, I almost saw him as a friend.

I push my way out of the building and onto the street, needing to get as far away as possible from TK’s words, and Rachel and Nicki’s cruel laughter.

My fingernails bite into the palms of my hands as I turn the corner and rush down the street. I grew up in this town. I know every shortcut and hiding place there is, and I use that knowledge to my advantage.

It’s not until I’m a few blocks away, walking through the Center Street Park, that I slow down. My chest heaves, desperate for oxygen. Getting my breathing under control, I head toward the empty swings and choose the one on the end to drop down into.

Fat, mouthy bartender.

Fuck him. Fuck TK and his stupid hair, and his big, stupid muscles, and those stupid blue eyes. Fuck him for making me feel this way.

The truth is, I know I’m on the bigger side. I’m curvy. I know I’m not exactly society’s ideal specimen of a woman, but I look damn good, and I know it. I’m no skinny bitch like Rachel, and I don’t walk around wearing corsets in public like Nicki, but I’m not ashamed of my body.

Shoving off with the tips of my toes, swing. I swing so high, the poles threaten to come up out of the ground. I swing until I can breathe properly again. I breathe until I decide I don’t want to go back to that concert just so I can shove my foot up TK’s ass.

I’m not the least bit ashamed of me. The only thing I’m ashamed of is that TK is a biker, and I know better than to think any biker is a decent guy, because he’s not. He’s a shallow, callous asshole, and I won’t be making that same mistake twice.

TWATKNOT

Fat,mouthy bartender that would probably bite my dick off if I even tried to get near her.

I’m such a fucking asshole. No, I’m lower than that. I’m worse than the guy who laid a hand on her at the concert. At least he was just some drunken stranger looking to get laid. She knew me. I came to her rescue, then put her down the second one of my brothers teased me about her. And when I saw her standing there… Fuck, I’ll never forget the way she looked at me.

The way the color drained from her face.

The tear that snuck out and ran down her cheek before she could wipe it away.

She unknowingly haunts me with that look I’ve committed to memory in the hours since it happened.

“Goddammit.” Why didn’t I go after her when I had the chance? I just let her leave without even trying to explain. I could blame it on being drunk, but the only person to blame is me and my stupid fucking ego.

“The fuck was that, TK?” Judge inquires with an arched brow.

“Just handling a situation,” I mutter.

“That why the bartender from the other night ran out of here like a bat out of hell?”

Fuck. He’d seen what had happened, and likely heard what I said too. Fucking great.

“She didn’t want my help.” I shrug. “I gave it anyway.”

“I can see how well that worked out for you. You good?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m far fucking from it, but getting Judge involved is not an option. The last thing I need right now is to have one of his fatherly you’re-fucking-shit-up discussions in the middle of this godforsaken field over my love life. I’d been witness to enough of those lately to know the script he’d use by heart. “I’ll deal with it.”

He gives me a once-over before turning his attention back to Grace, who’s singing along to the music at his side, leaving me to stew all on my own.

Why did I care so much about hurting her? What is it about her that’s making me feel so guilty? I’m sure I’ve hurt dozens of women with the shit that comes out of my mouth, but with Cora, it just feels different. So fucking different. That beautiful, confident, cocky woman that dishes my shit back at me like a seasoned pro. She’s been through some shit, that’s apparent enough, but she’s still her own person. I like that about her, but I’ve gone and fucked that up.

Women have always come easy to me. Well, the sex part, at least. But friendships? I have no idea where to even begin with that kind of relationship. The closest thing I’ve ever come to a female friend is with Lindsey, and she’s more like a sister to me than a friend.Lindsey.She’d know what to do.

I barely let the idea get through my head before I see her standing next to Karma with a beer in her hand. Trudging up to the crowd, she spots me immediately.

“Come to lick your wounds, TK?” Karma teases.

“Something like that. I need to borrow your girl.” Karma tenses up, eyeing me up and down like a fucking threat.

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