Breaking Hammer (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Inferno Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Paige Sabrina

Author:Paige, Sabrina [Paige, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2014-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

When I opened the door of the hotel room, she smiled at me, the expression brightening her face. I hadn't seen her smile before. It made her look suddenly younger, lighter. Less burdened somehow. Then it was gone, as quickly as it had appeared.

"Meia," I said.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," she said. But she stepped closer to me, and I stood there in the doorway for a moment, with her inches away from me, looking down at her. I had the sudden impulse to kiss her, as she looked up at me, uncertainty and apprehension etched on her face.

"I don't know what I'm doing here either," I admitted.

But I stepped back and she walked inside anyway, her eyes surveying the room before she peeled off her coat and laid it over a chair. She looked exquisite, despite being in a simple dress, one that skimmed her body, barely giving a hint of what was underneath.

I didn't know what the protocol was for this. I didn't know why the fuck I was so nervous. I'd never been nervous about anything in my life, and I felt my heart race as I stood there. "Why did you agree to meet me?"

"Why did you ask?" She sat on an overstuffed chair, crossed one leg over the other, looking around the room and then back at me. She picked at something on the arm of the chair, her eyes focused away from me.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm lost lately."

She looked at me, her gaze direct. "We're all lost."

"I didn't used to think I was," I said. "I used to think I knew where I was going."

"Death changes things," she said. "It alters our course." She looked up, tucked her hair behind her ear. The gesture was tentative, nervous, at odds with the in control version of her that I kept seeing glimpses of.

"Is that what happened to you?" I asked. "Is that what altered your course?" I wanted to scream, why are you with Aston?

It was cagey, the way she avoided saying anything about herself. She had this way of making me feel comfortable talking about myself and before I knew it, I was the one who had done all the talking. Each time I hung up the phone, I wondered where the time had gone. But I wondered if it was deliberate, if she deflected everything with me. It gnawed at me, that I couldn't find anything about her.

She shrugged. "You can't control your destiny," she said. "For better or worse, sometimes it chooses you."

"I felt that way once," I said. I sat across from her, my elbows on my knees, leaning forward, looking at the ground. Why the fuck did I feel compelled to talk to her like this, like she was a goddamned priest and I was a parishioner at confession? "After April was killed. The things I did, I thought they were my destiny. I thought killing the men who murdered her would give me peace.

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