Page 38 of The Originals

Maureen stepped in between them. “A few of us went over together, got a big table to eat. I asked Meg to join us, but she wanted to sit at the counter. By herself.”

He fisted the bag and nodded. There was nothing more to say. Tully started to walk away, and Maureen gave him a sympathetic andknowingsmile. She knew. Tully knew. Now Mick knew.

I fucked up.

Mick shut the door and sighed. Leaving her last night had been the wrong move. In hindsight, he should’ve stayed. But he’d had so much anger and aggression from the threat to her, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind. His adrenaline had still been pumping from the fight. Combined with Meg’s opinion, it had only fueled him more. Her inability to see what he knew to be fact from his experience only escalated his anger.

Mick took a shower, packed up, and ate his breakfast. He expected Meg to walk through the door at some point. She didn’t.

Mick dropped his keys off at the office and started toward the lined-up bikes. He held both their bags in one hand and brought his cigarette to his lips, searching the lot for Meg. Most of the brothers were packing their bikes. His eyes shifted to the lawn, landing on Meg. She was sitting on the curb across the lot from the club, staring down the street.

Mick walked over, and even as he grew closer and knew she’d heard his boots pounding on the pavement, Meg never looked over.

“Hey,” he said, his voice graveled.

Meg peeked at him, squinting from the sun beaming in her eyes. Mick moved to his right to block it.

“Hi.”

Her voice was void of any feeling or emotion. Everything he saw and heard last night was gone. She pushed up from the curb, glancing at the club. She was clearly avoiding him.

“You okay?”

Meg slowly nodded. “Yes.”

It should’ve put him at ease. It didn’t.

Mick sighed, walking toward her. “Jack wants to get on the road.”

“I’m ready.” It was the only thing she’d said that had any ounce of emotion.

Fuck.

Meg started past him, and he quickly tossed his cigarette on the ground and reached out, placing his hand on her stomach, halting her. Meg stilled but refused to look at him. He inched closer until her arm brushed against his chest.

“We’ll talk when we get home.”

He heard a faint sigh, and she nodded once again, whispering, “Okay.”

But it’s not fucking okay, is it?

Chapter Nine

The ride home was long. The only good thing about being preoccupied with the Mick situation? She had little time to think about her ass being sore. It was the only highlight of the ride. They’d done the trip without any stops, but traffic prolonged it by an hour. By the time Mick pulled off the highway, Meg was eager to get off the bike.

This ride looked very different from her first. She’d held onto Mick but hadn’t been clutched against his back with her arms wrapped around his stomach. A few times, he’d rested his hand on her thigh, but she’d secured her feelings, not giving in to the warmth of his touch. She refused to.

Last night had been a defining moment in their relationship. It hadn’t ended the way she’d wanted it to or how it should’ve. Was that his idea of resolution? Leaving if she disagreed with him? And the violence without an ounce of remorse. How was she supposed to expect to live that life?I can’t.

Meg glanced over at the shops on Main Street in Turnersville. She was only a few minutes from home. Mick had told her they were heading to the clubhouse, but she’d insisted she wanted to go home. He didn’t seem happy with her decision but agreed.

He pulled up to the curb in front of her house and shut down his bike. It was unnecessary. Meg was going to make this as quick as possible. Then she’d go inside and lock herself in her room for as long as it took to get over Mick.

She got off the bike, and when he stood, she backed away and held up her hand.

“I can’t do this, Mick.”

“Can’t?”