Page 60 of Iron Heart

“I don’t believe it,” she breathes, broken. “You are such anasshole.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called that,” I agree, noting how robotic I sound. But lucky for me, Tori’s not looking for an Academy Award-winning performance.

“Jesus.” Tears fill Tori’s eyes. “Get out of my house.”

I’m actually on her front porch, but I don’t correct her. My stomach drops as I steel myself and look at her crushed, tear-streaked face one final time. She’s fighting not to start crying again. It damn near breaks my heart.

But this time, I’m the cause of her tears. I’m the one who hurt her.

I have to remind myself that’s a good thing. Because right now, it sure as shit doesn’t feel like it.

“See you around,” I mutter around the lump in my throat. I turn and trudge down the three steps to her front sidewalk. At the last minute, I swivel back to look at her one final time.

She’s beautiful. Devastatingly, heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Take your time payin’ the bill,” I toss back at her.

The blood roars in my ears as I start my bike and pull away from the curb.

24

Tori

Weeks later, I still burst into tears every time I have to drive by Curl Up and Dye.

Cyndi and I weren’t all that close. But she was just one of those people who brightened up the room, you know? She was the perfect person to be a hair stylist. A great listener. Funny, sweet, and kind. I always felt better after an appointment with her, no matter what my mood was when I went in.

The funeral was an incredibly rough day. The biker Cyndi was seeing — Mal — was there, as were a bunch of the other Lords of Carnage. Mal looked really bruised and beat up. His arm was in a sling, but otherwise he seemed physically more or less okay. He didn’t say a word throughout the entire service or afterwards. He just sat in stony silence, and then left.

Dante was there, too. He only looked at me once. From the vacant expression in his eyes, you would never have guessed he even knew me.

I’ve spent the last few weeks trying like hell to forget that anything ever happened between us. I paid his damn bill with a silentFuck you, and did my best to ignore the tears streaming down my cheeks as I dropped it into the mail slot at the post office.

Ironwood has never seemed smaller than it does right now. Everything reminds me of Dante. From the rib joint he took me to, to the damn parking lot where I park my car every day. Every motorcycle I hear makes throat close up. Every tall, dark man I see out of the corner of my eye makes my stomach do flips, before I realize it isn’t him.

I can’t go on like this. It has to get easier eventually.

It has to.

I plod through my days, which fall into a monotonous ritual of work, home, sleep, then work again. Savannah notices my gloomy mood, and I end up telling her everything. She starts staying over at my house more often, even though I tell her she doesn’t have to.

I’m grateful as hell for the company, though.

I tell myself this is all my fault. I never should have let myself get involved with Dante. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he’s not the staying kind. He’s not the type of man who would ever let himself get in an actual relationship. Hell, he even told me as much, right at the beginning. I can’t blame him for lying, anyway. And I thought I was listening. But I guess my heart wasn’t.

Stupid heart. Now it’s broken in more ways than one.

* * *

“Jeremy’sreal estate office just hired a new guy,” Savannah casually says to me one night. We’re on the couch watching back to back action movies just to get my mind off of things for a while.

“Mmmhmm…” I reply, distracted by the credits ofThe Edge of Tomorrowbecause I notice one of the writers is named Dante.

“Jeremy really gets along great with this guy. He was wondering if you’d want to come out with us some night? Grab some drinks, maybe dinner?”

I glance over at her. “Huh?”

Savanna lifts a shoulder, and then grabs a handful of popcorn, her eyes not meeting mine. “You know, just for fun. I mean, it’s not like it’d be a date or anything.”