The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 134

Chapter 78-3

As I gape and try to figure out just what the hell to do, it comes to me that the worst part of this whole clusterfuck is that there’s no calculation in her face. No cruelty or triumph. The truth is that Willow believes every word she’s saying.

“I’m with Zara,” I say again. “I care about her. I will always care about her.”

Willow nods. “I know.”

Frustration bites at the back of my throat, and I take a breath to calm down. “Then you understand there’s nothing between you and me.”

“Oh, Locke,” she says in an affectionate tone. “The universe isn’t asking you to choose today.”

“Willow.” I go completely still. “This isn’t about timing.”

“Everything is about timing.”

“No. This is about reality.”

The word sounds harsher than I intend, and pain flickers across her face, and guilt follows immediately. I hate that she’s placed me in a position where honesty feels like brutality.

“You’re Zara’s sister. Mayhem’s sister. Cobra’s daughter. All of that matters to me.” I lower my voice. “Your place in this family matters. I don’t want to embarrass you or hurt you. But I am not your soulmate. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” She touches one pale flower blossom with the tip of her finger. “The universe tests people before it gives them what they need.”

There it is again. Not a misunderstanding, not flirtation. A belief. Something built so deeply inside her that my words can’t reach it. I can’t argue her out of destiny, and I can’t reason with something she’s already decided is sacred. But most of all, I can’t stay here pretending that my kindness and patience are harmless.

I step back. “I need to go.”

“You’ll understand eventually.” She looks over her shoulder. “You’ll see.”

The certainty in her voice follows me all the way to the door, and all I can think is:

Zara was right. I was wrong. Fuck me.

Inside the clubhouse, the room falls quieter and Moree watchful as I walk through. Of course everyone knows what happened – high school gossip girls have nothing on this group of fully-grown bad-ass bikers. Exchange of information is a currency in an MC, and in many cases, it’s kept men alive.

Mayhem is standing near the bar with a mug of coffee. He looks up, and our eyes meet. Something hard flashes across his face before he looks away again.

I don’t stop to say one word, I walk straight past him. Past the bar, past the brothers pretending not to watch me

Chapter 78

Cobra’s office door is open, and he looks up as knock once against the frame.

Claps

“There you are,” he says in that quiet voice, the one that’s all about coiled-up rage and violence. “Shut the fucking door and explain yourself.”

I step inside and for a second, I simply look at him, trying to work out how to explain something that barely makes sense in my own head. Finally, I lay the bracelet of stones down on his desk, and say the only words that matter:

“We have a fucking problem.”

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