Chapter Nine: Xander

Chapter Nine
______________________

Xander



I was worried. No, Fuck that. Worried didn't cover it. I was out of my damn mind. This was something that I wasn't comfortable with, wasn't used to.

I didn't get all bent out of shape about a woman, but here I was, drinking myself into a stupor because Jennifer fucking Saunders was ghosting me. She had been for seven fucking days. Since that night at the bar, Jen had been ignoring my existence. She disappeared suddenly after we had the most amazing sex of my fucking life when I had to deal with the disrespectful shit that was my newest member, Drill. All he had to do was say one thing, and I wanted to put a bullet between his eyes.

Save a piece for us. Some of us would like to take that dick-hopper for a drive, boss.

I was pissed, livid, way madder than I had ever been in my life. Jen was my woman, no one else. She sure as hell wasn't a dick hopper, and I would be damned if I ever let her be. It was a big rule of mine. No girl that I had ever dated was allowed to pledge to the crew. I was a bit of a selfish prick like that.

I gave Drill a piece of my mind. I threatened his life and drove the matter home for everyone that Jen was mine, my girl, and no one better even so much as look at her lustfully, or they would be answered to my nine.

When I had dealt with Drill, I saw that Jen was gone, disappeared. I knew she wasn't really gone because Liam's car was still outside, but I couldn't find her anywhere. I tried texting her to get her to come back out to me, but she didn't answer. That was a first. She had answered my texts before.

That was the start of the dry spell from hell. I was a faithful man. I loved to Fuck, but I would never screw around on a girl, and Jen was testing that. Still, my dick had stayed in my pants over the past week. Even though a part of me wanted to say Fuck it and drag one of the club girls to the back of the clubhouse just to let out some frustration.

No, that wasn't me, and I wouldn't let it become me. Not with Jen. No. She had told me about her parents, why she had been fighting being with a biker so hard, and I got it. I understood where she was coming from. Trapper was a legend through the chapters of the Black Stallions, but obviously, he was a shitty husband and father. Hell, he drove his fucking wife to kill herself and didn't bat an eyelash. Who does that shit?

Jen didn't want to be her mom. She didn't want to be hurt like that. She didn't want to become a shell just because she fell for the wrong guy. I refused to be the wrong guy for her. I wanted to be the right guy. I wanted to be the guy she was with for years before she looked back and said to herself I'm glad I took a shot on him. I wanted to make Jen happy, and I thought she was....until she started ignoring me.

Fuck. I couldn't stop myself from sending her another drunk text. Was I losing my mind? Yeah, probably. No woman had ever gotten to me like this.

**Xander: Jen, what's going on? You've been ghosting me for a week, and you disappeared that night at Derek's. Are you mad at me or something?**

I didn't expect a response. I hadn't gotten one from the hundreds of texts I had sent over the past seven days. Why would this one be different? But, it was different. She did text me back, and I felt like some twelve-year-old geek who got his first erection from hearing the ding of my ringer.

Get. A. Grip.

I snatched my phone and opened the text, but my heart broke a bit right there.

**Jen: Not mad, no. Leave me alone, Gunner. It's what you're good at.**

It's what you're good at? That sunk a pit into my stomach. What? What was I good at? Leaving her alone? Fuck that. I sucked at that. The drunken texts should prove that.

Fuck. Did Jen just dump my ass? I looked at the text again and nodded. Yup, she dumped me.

I had to decipher that. Leave me alone. It's what you're good at.

What the Fuck did that really mean? What was she talking about? Me leaving her alone?

Suddenly, it hit me. I walked away from her to deal with Drill and, when I looked back at the table where she should've been, she was gone.

She was gone. She knew why I had to leave her like that, right? She had to have heard what Drill said or didn't she? Fuck, what if she hadn't?

She didn't. That was the problem, right? Shit. Did she think I had rejected her? Pushed her away to talk to my crew?

shit. shit. shit.

How badly had I really fucked up with her?


*****


I strolled into the bar by myself at ten that night. I had warned others to stay away.

I looked over to the bar and there was Jen. She was wearing a black apron, drying some glasses with a towel. She had the saddest expression on her face, as she slowly rubbed the rag on the glasses. My heart broke a bit more at seeing her like that.

"Knock, knock," I muttered, and her eyes slowly lifted to mine before they narrowed. She set down the glass and the towel. She didn't speak, just stared at me. It was almost like she thought if she looked at me long enough that I would disappear. "Hey." I strolled over to the bar, and she still didn't speak. "Is Derek gone already?" She huffed at me.

"What do you want?" she asked, irritation across her face.

"We need to talk, Jen." She pulled off her apron and slammed it onto the counter.

"There's nothing to talk about. If you didn't come here for a drink, Gunner, you can leave." Then, she charged off into the back.

I felt defeated. She wouldn't even give me a chance to fix things or to even explain myself. Was I just kidding myself?

Maybe this was the universe's way of shitting on me.

*Hey, Xander. Here's the best thing you could hope for. Whoops, psyche!*

Yup, sounded about right.