Silver Bastard
Page 52

I almost dismissed him with the rest . . .
His eyes scanned the room, though, always searching. I caught them on me more than once. Like he was studying what made me work, deep inside. I couldn’t tell if he was truly a rich boy out slumming or a very cleverly disguised predator.
Something about him reminded me of Puck.
Just what we needed around here—more scary people.
Things got busier as the night progressed. Teresa had brought in a live band for the night, and by eleven Danielle had grabbed her apron and started pitching in. When Teresa saw her I wondered if we’d get in trouble, but she just said, “Don’t forget to write down your hours . . .”
That’s about the time Boonie and Darcy showed up. Ten minutes later Puck arrived, along with Deep, Demon, and Carlie. I’d been looking for him all day, determined to apologize for what I’d said the night before. Now that he was really here, though, the thought of talking to him terrified me. Still, I had to do it, and the sooner the better. I set down my tray and intercepted the group as they crossed the room.
“Puck, do you have a minute?”
Puck ignored me completely. It was like I didn’t even exist. I wanted to hate him for that but I couldn’t really blame him—I’d called him a rapist, and that’s a pretty big deal no matter how you look at it. Deep and Demon followed Puck’s lead and walked past without a word. The worst, though, Carlie. She didn’t ignore me. Nope. She smiled at me, and in her eyes I saw pity.
She fucking pitied me.
Bitch.
Because God obviously hates me, Boonie and Darcy had already taken a table in my section, which meant I had to trail after Puck and his MC brothers like a fucking puppy to take their orders. Just how I was supposed to accomplish that confused me, what with the silent treatment and all. Boonie solved the problem by ordering a round for the entire table, and I found myself retreating back toward the bar.
“Bummer,” Danielle whispered as she passed by, having obviously watched our little show (along with everyone else in the bar, because the situation wasn’t awkward enough already, right?). “That’s harsh.”
“What should I do?”
“You find a way to apologize and hope he finds a new place to go drinking,” she replied. “Not much else you can do.”
“Find a way to apologize.” Easy for her to say—she wasn’t the one being ignored. I stalled for a few minutes at the bar, but then the drinks were ready and waiting for me.
Showtime.
I carried them back over to the bikers’ table, trying to catch Puck’s eye. Carlie sat between him and Deep, and I wondered which man she’d come with. She’d clearly been with Puck the other morning at breakfast . . . I forced myself to smile at her brightly despite the fact that I wanted to poison her. Puck was mine.
Wait. Where did that come from? Puck wasn’t mine. Not even a little bit. I didn’t want him, either.
Liar.
Over the next half hour I caught myself checking them out, trying to determine whether or not they were a couple. Puck wasn’t paying much attention to Carlie, though. If anything she seemed attached to Deep. Good. I hoped they got married and had fifty babies until she got fat. Still, she was sitting next to Puck and she’d been with him the other morning, too. As if to rub salt in my wounds, Carlie was annoyingly friendly and nice to me when I came back to collect the empties.
“You’re Becca, right?” she asked. “We didn’t get a chance to talk the other day—”
“She’s nobody,” Puck said, cutting her off. Carlie gaped, glancing between us. The others watched silently as my heart clenched. I wanted to run away. Hide. Pretend none of it had ever happened.
No.
Time to end it.
I set my tray down on the table and stood straight, looking directly into Puck’s face.
“I have something to say to you,” I told him, pitching my voice loud enough to be heard over the music. “What I said last night was wrong. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t true. You aren’t a rapist.”
Carlie gasped and Darcy blinked. The men just watched silently. I closed my eyes briefly, wishing I could open them and find myself somewhere else. Anywhere else. No such luck—when I opened them again, Puck was staring at me, his eyes boring through me like two hot coals.
Well. Guess I’d caught his attention.
“I think I need to make something very clear,” I continued. “Five years ago, when I met you in California, I did everything I could to make you think I wanted to be with you. Teeny set it all up and I played along, and you were as much a victim as I was. You didn’t rape me, and once you figured it all out you could have just left. Instead you saved me and I’ll appreciate that for the rest of my life. I called you a rapist last night because you were telling me things I didn’t want to hear and I got angry. In fact, I get angry a lot. It’s sort of a problem for me, so I apologize. Thank you again for bringing me to Idaho and saving my life.”
With that I grabbed the tray and walked away, feeling my hands shake. Danielle waited for me by the bar, searching my face.
“You did it?”
“Yup.”
“Seriously? Right there in front of all of them?”
“Yup.”
“You okay?”
I considered the question. “No, I think I’m about to freak out.”
“Go back into the kitchen and sit in the walk-in,” she said quickly. “I’ll cover for you. Stay in there until you calm down.”