Counter To My Intelligence (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC #7)

“Jesus,” Bristol said, distracting me. “Do you want me to go get you another burger?”


I moaned at the way the juicy morsels filled my mouth with heaven.

And the fries.

Oh, my God, the fries.

They were divine.

“No,” I said, washing the fries down with a suck on my Suicide. “I’m probably not going to eat all of this.”

Bristol stayed uncharacteristically silent as I polished off my hamburger, only making the odd comment about people that walked through the door.

“We’ll have to go find you some clothes,” Bristol said, surprising me.

“I don’t have any money to buy clothes,” I informed her bluntly.

She blinked. “I have money.”

I shook my head. “You’re not buying me clothes. I’ll just get the ones from my mom’s house. It’ll be okay.”

She looked at the shirt that I was wearing and raised her brows.

“And will they all fit you like that?” She asked teasingly.

I looked down at the baby doll T-shirt that was something closer to a half shirt rather than a shirt, and shrugged. “It’ll work out. I’ll sew some new ones when I get home.”

She shrugged.

“We have an apartment over the garage that I want you to stay in,” she said softly, looking at me with sincere eyes.

I shook my head before the words had even finished coming out of her mouth.

“Why not?” She asked, crossing her arms across her chest and sitting back into her chair.

“You have nothing to make up for, Bristol,” I said honestly.

She closed her eyes. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gone to that party in the first place.”

I shook my head, a small smile tipping up my lips.

“No, but you would’ve called me to bring you home, and I would’ve come. And the same outcome might’ve been possible,” I answered her.

She closed her eyes.

“I want you to stay. Dallas wants you to stay. Please, stay,” she whispered.

Dallas was my younger brother, by exactly thirteen minutes.

He and Bristol had gotten close once I’d been taken away.

Bristol lost her best friend, and Dallas lost the sister that he told everything to.

It was inevitable that they’d find solace in each other’s arms.

I looked into her sincere eyes and felt myself caving.

“You’ll let me pay rent?” I confirmed.

A muscle ticked below her right eye.

“Yeah,” she said very begrudgingly.

“And you’ll let me babysit for you whenever I want?” I asked her.

She laughed.

The sound was sweet.

And I loved it.

“Of course, anytime you want.”

I smiled. “Good. Now, how about you tell me what it is that you’ve been avoiding telling me.”

She looked down at the piece of paper that had lined my straw, she picked it up and started to pick it apart into tiny little pieces.

“Isaac,” she started, then stopped again.

My brows rose.

“Isaac,” I encouraged her.

She dropped the paper onto the tray and reached for my hands.

“Isaac is engaged to someone else. He got one of his secretaries at work pregnant, and he’s marrying her next weekend,” she said in a rush.

I blinked.

“You’re…he’s…what?” I asked, flabbergasted.

She nodded.

“Yeah, you heard me right,” she confirmed.

I looked down at the cheese that’d fallen from my burger earlier and cringed.

“Wow,” I said unsurprisingly. “I always thought he’d give up on me… just, not for it to happen the day I got out of prison.”

Bristol licked her lips, and I knew she had more to say.

She just didn’t want to hurt me anymore.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

She took a deep breath, and then gave me the full force of her brown eyes.

“He’s been doing it since the beginning… I just didn’t want to tell you when you had enough things to worry about,” she admitted.

I froze, but Bristol continued to speak.

“I’ve debated telling you for years now… it’s just… how do you tell your best friend that the man she thinks she’s going to marry is actually with someone else? You’ve given me your life, and I owe you everything. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my family right now. And it breaks my heart that you had to have something so god awful happen to you for me to accomplish my dreams,” Bristol cried softly.

I grabbed her hand. “Bristol, I’ve already told you a million times that it wasn’t your fault. How many times do I have to do that before you understand? What happened that night… that was all me. Every bit of it. I hit that person. Those people. I chose to drink. I chose to go to that party with you. Everything is my fault, not yours. I love you, but you need to give it a rest. Let your heart heal.”

She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

“And when will you heal?” She asked forcefully.

I shook my head.

There would be no healing for me.

There would just be existing.

And that’s all that there would ever be.

Existing, alone.





Chapter 3


I hate when people accuse me of lolly-gagging when I’m quite obviously dilly-dallying.

-Coffee Cup

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