The motel has become my next temporary prison. My agoraphobia has followed me from my studio to the twin room of the motel. I’m terrified when the cleaning lady knocks on the door, terrified when random numbers try ringing the cell phone the club gave me, terrified when people slam their car doors outside…

I had let him go. I’d dreamt about saying goodbye on good terms. I’d dreamt about telling Landon how I’m not sad anymore, just numb, and that it’s okay that he’s not in my life anymore. Six years, every day as painful as the last and he comes back? This tug-of-war, playing with hearts that have been hurt too many times…

“I want all of this, all of you…” His deep, comforting words still ring in my ears more than he’ll probably know.

I’d settled for my Plan B— My life with Todd, living in my house of cards in Baddock I’d been building piece by piece, lie by lie.

When my old friend, Anxiety, peeks its wicked face back into my life this morning, I muster the strength to ignore it. I take deep breaths and try regain some control of my situation. Landon didn’t come home last night. I’m too scared to turn on my burner phone in case he’s sent a text saying words I don’t want to hear. My heart is resigning from this for now.

I wait, though. I’ve given myself permission to say a proper last goodbye to Landon. Our timing will never be right and our history will always be messy. These are facts that I am coming to terms with.

I hear the low rumble of a motorcycle.

He’s here!

The bike is left running as footsteps approach the door. I can tell we’re leaving in a hurry… I slip on my boots and throw open the door but the man who steps through is the last person I was hoping to see.

Mac.

He gives me a wicked, yellowed grin. “Hello, again.”

“What do you want? You wanna drag me back to the club again, huh? Torture me some more. Would that get you off?”

“I thought maybe I’d gotten through to you, little Palermo. Landon’s getting married and you’re not going to fuck this up. Landon had his little chance to escape the club then made the idiot move of bringing you back here.”

“I’m leaving, Mac. I just want to say goodbye to him face to face… I thought maybe he’d come see me before I left…”

“You think he gives a shit about you anymore? He got what he wanted from you…A nice fuck, some company for a few days.” The words are piercing. “He told me himself he’s done with you. You’re his past. Now it’s time to go. A lot is on the line here, girl. Mia is his damn future and I need you gone and out of his head before you do any more damage.”

“I just want to say goodbye.”

“The longer you stay, the more he might remember. It took the kid years to get over the shit that went down with you, Palermo. Years to find the balls to man up and forget you. It’s better if some things stay buried.”

I choke. “What are you talking about?”

“Still putting on that little fucking charade, I see. I ain’t here to play games, girl.” Mac walks by me into the room and sits on the sofa, kicking his dusty shoes up onto the coffee table. “The night I killed your daddy, Lucy. Don’t play dumb with me. The night you two called it splits.”

My head goes faint.

“What’s the matter little Palermo? Landon didn’t tell you what really happened that night, did he?”

“I… I don’t…”

“You don’t know shit, little Palermo. You don’t know the full story of what that man did to your fucking mother. You don’t know me and her had history once, beyond the bullshit you and Landon thought you suffered through. You don’t know how good it felt when I drove that knife into his fucking heart.”

“You… You killed him?”

“I did what needed to be done. You should be thanking me.”

“I need to see Landon again…” I whisper. “Please, please, Mac.”

“Landon owes a debt to the club because of what I did for you and for every other time we’ve stepped in for him. He’s marrying Mia and repaying that debt and I’m not going to let some little Palermo fuck that up.”

He cracks the knuckles on his left hand, grinning savagely. He reaches down and unclips the long knife strapped to his belt.

“Now I’m gonna ask you, little Palermo… Are you gonna leave easy, or are you gonna make this hard for me?”

Instead of going sad and powerless, I turn mad.

I storm over to Mac. “You won’t. You say you and my mom had history, why hurt me?”

“Y’sure I wouldn’t hold this to your throat and press?” He takes a step closer to me but I hold my ground and try to control my shaking. “You willing to put your life on the line?” he asks, pulling the knife from its sheathe. “I may have cared for your mother once upon a time but I couldn’t give two shits about her spawn.”

“Cut the bullshit, old man. Take me to Landon then I go. I only need two minutes.”

Mac gets to his feet and rests his hand on my neck. I feel fear rising within me as he lifts the knife and picks his teeth with it. He studies my face and body so obviously that I recoil. “And what do I get in return?”

“My leaving in peace.”

“Oh ho-ho,” he guffaws. “That so? So, I’ll have a riot on my hands if I don’t let you see him, huh?”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Oh yes you are.”

“Take me to him now.”

“Well, I could do that but, y’see, by the time we reach Sal’s, he ain’t gonna be there. And where he is, well, let’s just say a pacifist like you might not approve.”

“Go fuck yourself. Where is he?”

“Alright, I’ll tell you,” he says with the lick of his lips. “The boys took him down to the warehouse to knock some fucking sense into him. If he don’t fall into line, they’re gonna patch him out the hard way. Maybe I’ll take you there and let you watch if you do something for me.”

He grins wickedly and I know what he’s implying as he stares down at my tits. I spit on his face. He snatches my wrist with his free hand and shoves a dusty handkerchief into my mouth. It’s shocking, choking me. “You crazy bitch. You Palermo women really do know how to put up a fight, don’t you?”

I jump, gagging on the dry cloth, screaming as loud as I can muster through the fabric and tug away from his sausage-like fingers that manhandle me tightly. Luckily, my knee breaks upward forcefully into Mac’s crotch and I get a good scratch across the whites of his eye.

He buckles, the knife clattering to the floor and giving me a chance to run.

I bolt for the door and run straight towards Mac’s big rumbling softtail fat boy. It had been eight years since Landon had taught me to ride but my foot kicked the lever into gear on pure muscle memory as Mac came charging out of the motel room.

I’m gone before he can get close, scattering dirt and gravel in his face as I tear out of the parking lot. Balancing such a large motorcycle is difficult. This thing rides nothing like Landon’s old beat up sportster.

I know where I’m going. The old warehouse downtown has been a club meeting spot for years. They used to hold illegal cage fights there back when I was just a girl. The place was as run-down to all Hell when I last saw it. I don’t know what I expect to find there but that’s no mind. I need to find Landon quickly.

I just wish I knew what I’m going to say once I do…