“Yeah, well Jace should be the last of your worries.” Mack hesitated. “You sure you’re up for this? You want out, just say it, and you’re out.”
“Aww, so sweet.” Clarissa toyed her finger in the collar of Mack’s tee.
God, he despised her.
Mack knew bringing Clarissa’s father into the gig was a mistake. Knew it the second his daddy showed up with the prick ambling behind him, bringing another into the fold.
Just one big happy fucking family.
But Mack did what he had to do.
What he had to do to survive.
Funny, how he’d fought his father forever and then slid right into the position like he’d always belonged.
Heaviness clanged through his chest. Shame and dishonor. But it’d been stupid to think he’d been purposed for anything else.
Like he was better.
Destined for great things.
What a fuckin’ joke.
“Nah, man. I’m in. Better than selling dope for my ma’s prick boyfriend,” Ian said, driving an agitated hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” Mack started to agree when his breath hitched.
It got locked somewhere between his lungs and his throat and the sun.
A prisoner to the shift in the air.
Nothing but a crack in the atmosphere that let a lightning bolt of energy come speeding in.
His attention jerked up, jumping over the faces packed in the sordid house, coming to the one that was breaking through the crowd.
Izzy.
What the fuck was she doing there?
She didn’t belong.
His heart started to thud, this thunder that pulsed and screamed with its demand.
“What time should I meet you?” Ian’s question was nothing but a blur in his mind when his eyes tangled with that hazel, unforgettable gaze.
Then Mack was fully losing his mind when he saw Sean say something to her, grab her by the hand, and try to get her to follow.
Mack knew firsthand the asshole was a dickbag.
Izzy seemed frozen, though, and her eyes widened with shock and rejection. That was right before her expression shifted to gutting pain when she focused in on the girl on his lap.
Mack’s spirit fisted.
He’d stopped going to Izzy about six months before.
It was the fucking hardest thing he’d ever done, but the sacrifice had been necessary.
Their worlds had grown farther and farther apart. Their differences becoming too apparent.
Guilt had begun to eat at him every time he’d steal through her window like a thief, feeling filthy when he’d gather her up and hold her close, his dick pushing at his jeans and begging for him to take her, even though he promised himself he would never stoop that low.
Every time she whispered encouragement, told him he was going to be something great, filled his ears with all her good and belief, it’d only underscored the fact that she didn’t recognize the shame written on him.
The things he’d done. The things he was bound to do.
She was so much better than him. She was the great one. The one going places.
His Little Bird with the biggest, brightest wings.
Then the day had come when he’d had to accept it fully—that their worlds could no longer mesh.
It’d been close to dawn when he’d slipped out of her bed, his heart clutching all over the place as he’d stared down at the girl who was fast asleep, that blonde strewn all over her pillow. He’d left with that picture of her emblazoned on his mind and the memory of her fingertips tracing shapes across his bare shoulders etched on him like a tattoo.
Five minutes later, he’d stumbled through his front door.
His daddy had been awake.
Didn’t matter that he’d denied it, his father knew where he’d been, spewing his old, misguided hatred at the Lanes through his drunken stupor.
Mack didn’t care. He’d turned his back and headed for his room so he could crash, until his father had said it.
“If she’s so good, maybe I should take her for a ride. Maybe her old mama, too.”
Rage had spiraled through the middle of him. Hatred bigger than it’d ever been.
But really, his father had only been pointing out who Mack really was. An example of their sick, depraved world.
It was the last time he’d climbed that tree.
Like he’d just told Ian, don’t draw attention to what you wanted to keep hidden.
To what was important.
To what was good.
And Izzy Lane was the only good thing in his life.
Sean started to pull her through the crowd in the living room and through the kitchen, smug smirk on the bastard’s face as he was leading her outside.
Izzy’s attention was locked on Mack the whole time.
Uncomfortable and scared.
She cast him one last glance over her shoulder as the door shut behind them.
That was all it took to send that whole philosophy flying out the window.
“Off,” Mack demanded.
Clarissa clawed her way closer, pouting like she thought it was sexy. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Don’t worry about what I do,” he grated, shoving her off.