Page 137 of Bitter’s Sweet

But Sweet lifts one hand.

“No. I wanted the truth.”

Her eyes stay on mine.

“I guess I finally got it.”

“That don’t mean you don’t matter.”

“You promised.”

“I kept you safe.”

Her face changes.

That is when I know I said the exact wrong thing.

“I did not ask whether I was safe.”

“Sweet.”

“I asked whether you would use me without my permission.”

The words cut clean.

“And you did.”

“I used the tracker.”

“On my car. Because my ex is obsessed with me.” She presses one hand against her chest. “My fear. My past. My name. You took all of that and decided the club needed it more than I needed a choice.”

I have no defense that does not sound like Razor with better vocabulary.

That might be what destroys me.

"You made me believe my choices were mine to make."

“They are.”

“Then act like it.”

I step toward her.

She steps back.

That one movement stops me better than a gun.

“Don’t.”

I stop.

Mercy moves closer to her but does not touch her either.

Sweet’s voice shakes now. “I slept with you because you kept giving the choice back.”

The garage disappears around us.

Last night slams into me. Her under me, looking straight into my face. My choice. Your choice.