Falling For The Biker - Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Sierra's POV
My fingers clutched my purse, trying to hold myself together. The room spun for a second as my tears grazed my eyes. With each blink, the tears escaped my eyes.
The pain felt like a physical blow to my heart. I staggered forward, but I could not take another step. Every doubt that I had shoved aside returned, echoing in my ears.
“I told you,”
“Who would care about you?”
“You are nothing when there are better-looking ladies,”
As much as I wanted to run away from Vance's words, I always found myself in a position that forced me to remember. That reminded me of how small I was.
I staggered back and crashed into something. The glasses shattered, and the trays bounced on the ground. Only then did that grab their attention. “Sierra?” Arthur called softly.
I took to my heels, ignoring his calls. My chest rose and fell. I felt suffocated. My chest was heavy, and I hated myself. I hated myself for going along with Mum.
I shouldn't have come. I should not have let Mum give me hope. For fuck's sake, that was his fiancée. I was a divorcee whom he wanted to fuck and dump. I quickly stopped a cab, getting in a beat.
Only then did I let the tears fall. The driver was quiet. I was glad he didn't ask questions. My phone buzzed and on the screen danced Arthur's name. I shot off the screen, letting it ring.
He sent a series of messages, but I didn't care. I didn't reply, and I didn't need to read them. I could not be one of those ladies. When I got home, my tears had dried off, leaving me feeling stale and worthless.
I dragged my feet through the snow and stood on the porch. I could hear Elvis' voice. I could not be sad in front of him. He could not see me cry. Being back here was to ensure he was not worried about me.
I wiped the tears off my face, practiced smiling a few times, then turned the knob, stepping into the living room. Elvis was not there, but Jackson was. I chose to ignore him, heading for the staircase.
“Bad date?” he said.
His voice sounded neutral, flat, but I could not see it as that. I paused and turned around. “Yes,” I said, accepting defeat. “Happy?”
He chuckled, then tapped the space on the couch beside him. With a sigh, I walked over, taking a seat. “How did you know I went on a date with him?” I asked.
“Mum wasn't exactly quiet about it when she came back. And it's a little too early for you to be back. So tell me, what happened?” he said, leaning back.
I stared at him, trying to decide if I should tell him or not. Jackson had always been the number one person to hate on my thoughts about Arthur. Wouldn't he just mock me?
Studying his facial expression made it seem like he genuinely wanted to know. “You don't trust me?” his voice reeked of hurt.
I sighed. “Promise you wouldn't scold me,”
“Promise,” he didn't hesitate.
I took a moment to gather myself. Sending my mind back to that scene brought tears to my eyes. “He kissed Yvonne,” I said, but he raised a brow, looking confused. “His fiancée,” I added.
He hummed with a nod. “I know you warned me but-”
“I don't believe that,” he interrupted.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“How do you know the lady is his fiancée?” he asked.
“Well, she introduced herself when Shelly took me out,”
The look on his face was growing more confused with each question he asked. But I knew what he was going to say. He might have promised, but I doubt he would not scold me.
“He didn't do it,” Jackson told me.
“What do you mean he didn't do it? He kissed her. I saw it with my own eyes,” I said.
“What exactly did you see?”
I wanted to argue, but held my tongue. “They were close. She had her hands around his neck and both their heads were tilted to the side,” I replied.
“Did you let him explain?”
I shook my head. “No, I left before he had the chance.”
“Listen to his explanation,” Jackson said.
My brow rose in shock. He chuckled. “If you say this Yvonne chick is his fiancée, then Arthur would not willingly kiss her,” Jackson said.
“But-”
“Yes, I know. Arthur is known for how he plays with ladies, but there are limits to what he does. He never goes for a girl his parents recommend, and his fiancée is on the top of that list. So listen to him,” he said, pushing himself off the couch.
“I thought you didn't want us together,” I asked, genuinely confused.
He nodded. “Yes, and I still don't want you two together. He might not have kissed his fiancée, doesn't change the fact that he might only want to have you for a moment,”
“Then why do you want him to explain? Wouldn't that just give me hope?” I asked.
He stayed quiet for a moment. “It might, but you are stubborn. I don't want you hurt, but if you want to give it shot, then I won't stop you. All I wish is that you don't try to hide your pain from me because of my resistance,” he said and walked away.
I bit my lips, confused about what to do. Now that I replayed that scene, it felt more and more made up and read wrong. But I should not have this hope. What if this reading was the wrong one?
My phone buzzed in my purse. I took it out, knowing who it was. As expected, Arthur's name danced on the screen. The call ended, and it began ringing again.
I was torn between picking up and not doing so. Just when I was about to pick up, the call ended once more and notifications came in. I frowned at the caller ID. Unknown.
Reluctantly clicking on it, my heart sank. Pictures. Dozens of them and a message came in.
“He will always be mine,” it read.