I shouldn’t have let her get to me. She doesn’t mean anything—just another dumb bitch. God, sometimes I get so fucking tired of going. So fucking tired of breathing. I’ve been parked out by a local marina for thirty minutes doing nothing but watching the water. They’ve let the levels of the lake down for the winter and it looks as sad as I fucking feel. No. Sad is not a good word for what I feel. Sad is a lukewarm description. What I feel inside of me, I’ve never found words to describe. I’m not sure they’re invented. All I know is that now I’m broken and I’m pretty sure everything inside of me is … black.

I give up trying to figure shit out and start driving home. Fuck it all. I thought leaving the club would make things easier. It has in a way. At least now I’m not faced with happy couples and children playing every damn day. I don’t have to see their stares or hear the whispers. I don’t even have to talk. Life is better this way. My decision to leave was the right one. I just need to make sure I keep Hayden away from me, because for some reason she’s become a weakness.

I get about five minutes out of town when I see her. Motherfucker. Hayden is walking along the side of the road, wrapped up in that old, worn-out, blue coat she was wearing. Shit, it’s not even a coat, more of a worn wrap she puts around herself. It’s not as cold today, but it’s still too damn cold for her to be walking like this. What the fuck is she doing here anyway? She was supposed to be at the doctor’s office. It’s only been half an hour since I left her…at least not much over that—and she’s walking.

I pull up beside her and hit the button to roll down the passenger window. I do it even knowing I shouldn’t. I do it even knowing that I had just decided to stay far away from this woman. I do it thinking I have lost my ever-lovin’ mind.

“Get in,” I bark.

Hayden’s big eyes widen in surprise and she jumps. That’s not the first thing I notice however. That would be the tears on her face. Still, even though she’s been crying, when she sees me she smiles. She smiles. She gets in the truck and closes the door quickly.

“Thanks. I swear when I decided to walk home, I really thought it was closer,” she murmurs.

“You’re crying,” I point out. She looks up from where she’s trying to latch her seatbelt and sighs. Then she finishes what she was doing, and looks out the window.

“I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t think anyone would catch me,” she half-laughs at herself.

“Is…Maggie okay?” I ask, despite not wanting to.

Her face snaps to mine. Her pale, unadorned lips are shaped like an ‘o’ and her face flushes in pleasure as her eyes heat. What the hell?

“You’re the first person to call her Maggie with me,” she responds, not answering my question, but at least explaining the look on her face.

“Answer me,” I grumble; the look on her face does things to me I can’t explain, but I’m pretty sure I don’t like it. Maybe.

“She’s fine…or well…I guess. They couldn’t see me,” she pauses for a second and gets a faraway look in her eye before continuing. “The doctor had an emergency. It’s fine though. I’m actually thinking of switching doctors. Maybe I’ll start going to one in the city,” she says, and the last part her voice lowers as she nervously picks at the frayed end of her coat. For some reason, I get the distinct impression she’s lying to me. “Michael? Can I tell you something?” she asks, her voice dropping down and going even softer than before. Her gray eyes are on me. I’ve turned my attention back to the road, but even turning away from them, I can feel their intensity as it pierces through me. I want to say no, because I’ve already crossed the line I drew in the sand. I was done with her. It was time to go back to the reason I got here and it doesn’t involve bringing more unwanted people into my life. I ignore all of that.

“Yes,” I tell her, wishing like fuck I could call the words back even as I say them.

“It wasn’t you.”

I turn into our joined driveways, parking by her back door. I stare straight ahead for a second, not sure where to go with this conversation—or even if I wanted to.

“You had it all backwards. In the doctor’s office. I wasn’t ashamed of you. Why you would even think that, I don’t understand. I mean, you have looked in the mirror, right? Okay so your beard has gone a little crazy and your hair could use a bit of a trim, still…”

“Stop,” I growl, her rattling annoying me, but this subject pissing me off even more.

“Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sorry. She proves this when she continues on. “I’m just saying I was embarrassed.”

“Get out,” I growl, already knowing she was, and I don’t want to hear about it or hear her apologies. It’s the truth. It is what it is, and I don’t really give a fuck—

“It’s just I saw the look on your face when those men used the nickname that Bl…” she stops talking. Her hands are shaking…No. That’s not it. It’s not her hands but her entire body trembling and the force of that causes her hands to shake. Her face is white and honest to God, she appears to be a step away from passing out. I’ve seen enough fear in my life to know that’s exactly what is coming off her in waves.

“Stop,” I tell her, because whatever she wants to say, it’s scaring her to talk about it, and I honestly don’t really give a fuck.

“But you need to know,” she says, looking down at her shaking hands. God, this is a fucking headache. Why did I pick her up? Why do I keep doing this shit? What the hell is wrong with me?

“It doesn’t matter,” I growl. It is a growl and it’s full of exasperation because I’m done. I really am one hundred percent done.

“It does! It was just pride. I think of you as my friend, and I just…God, I’m making a mess of this.”

Her friend? Fuck, me. Jesus. I’ve sworn off women since Jan. I was pretty much done in general. I feel cold inside. I have nothing to offer anyone, especially women. I sure as fuck don’t want one as a friend. I have no idea what to say to her. I tighten my hands up on the steering wheel and wait for her to get the fuck out of here.

“People don’t like me, Michael,” she confesses, tearfully. I don’t know what the fuck I expected from her. This wasn’t it, however. I snap my head around to look at her. “And believe me when I tell you they don’t like me in a way that they don’t make a secret of it. And…well…I didn’t want you to see it. I didn’t want things to change between us. Anyways, I just wanted to say…I’m sorry.”

There’s a lot to take in here. I can’t even begin to process her confession before she jumps out of the truck, runs to her house and disappears inside. I’m left here staring after her thinking the one sentence that seems to apply with every run-in I have with Hayden.

What the fuck?