THIRTY-EIGHT

Dagne

“When were you going to tell me you were going away for a few days?” I hit Hooch with the hard questions the second he shows his face in Beth’s room.

He glances between myself, and Murphy where he sits watching over a snoozing Beth. She put up a brave face, but the minute we got ourselves cleaned up she curled under a blanket and was out like a light.

“I was coming to tell you as soon as I had the bike ready.”

“So I had no time to protest, right?”

Murphy stands, dusting his hands on his legs. “Excuse me.”

Hooch and I wait, watching as he leaves the room, pulling the door quietly behind him. I check Beth, but she hasn’t even stirred.

“It’s club business, Dee. It hasn’t got a thing to do with you.”

I shake my head turning for the window. We don’t fit together. Any misconceptions I had about us managing to make this work have only been brought to light.

“Everything this club has done since Digits brought me back here has had something to do with me in one way or another. Admit it.”

“Not true.”

“How?”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Like I said—”

“Club business.” I nod tightly. “I get it. Little women can’t handle the truth, right? It’s why this goddamned boy’s club keeps their women folk in the dark?”

“There you go,” he snaps, “making presumptions about shit you don’t understand.”

“I’m trying, Hooch. I really am. But when you keep asking me to stay, and all that means for me is lies upon lies, and abuse upon abuse, then tell me, why the hell would I want to stick around anymore?”

“So that’s it? I’m not enough?” He crosses his arms; eyes narrow slits as he scowls at me.

“I never said that.”

“Sure feels like you meant it.”

I spin and stalk toward him, taking him by surprise. “Then give me enough. Stop shutting me out, and packing me away for later. I’ve barely seen you since we got back here.”

“Because I’m the president,” he growls. “It’s my job to be busy, takin’ care of everyone else before myself.”

“Before me,” I correct.

He huffs a heavy breath, hanging his head. “I’ve been on my own for so long the habits are hard to break.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you haven’t had somebody to ignore in the past if what you say is true, so it shouldn’t be a habit to begin with.”

“I don’t ignore you.”

“You don’t make any time for me, either.” I step up to him, resting my palm over his racing heart. “This”—I press harder with my hand—“tells me you care.” I drift my hand upwards, resting my fingertips on his bottom lip. “But I need to hear it from here.”

“I guess I’m still worried that if I share it all, then I’ll lose it all when you leave.”

“I’ll leave if you don’t share it all.” I shake my head, moving my hand back to his chest. “I can’t be held at arm’s length all the time.”

His dark eyes hold mine captive as he searches my gaze for something. Whatever it is, he doesn’t find it. His brow furrows and he steps out of my reach with a huff.

“I need to be on the road. I’ll see you in a couple of days, Dee.” He hesitates just outside the door, staring at me for what feels like an inordinate amount of time, but in reality is probably a few fleeting seconds. His mouth opens to say something, but he shakes his head instead, turning heel and leaving me hanging.

He’s closed the metaphoric door on us, shut me out and barred the windows. I hold myself tight, turning back to the window to watch the men as they roll out in a cloud of dust and thundering engines.

I can’t wait around for the promise of nothing to come. He feels so close, and yet so far away. I’ve never felt such a strong connection with somebody who only gives me what they think I need.

Why do I stay on? That’s the real question. What the hell incenses me to stay when I get little to no love in return?

Why?

Because you know this isn’t the real him. You know this is his depression talking.

He’s pushing me away to protect himself, when in reality, that’s the last thing he needs.

I move to the bed and take a seat at the end beside Beth’s feet.

“He really likes you,” she mumbles, eyes shut.

“You heard all that, huh?”

“Guilty.” Her baby blues creep open, and she props herself up slowly on the pillows, throwing one my way.

I place it behind my back against the footboard, and face her. “I don’t understand him, Beth.”

“No one does. It’s why he’s been alone for so long. Only Mel and Dana ever got his quirks and mood swings—family and all.”

“I’m torn, you know?” I fidget with a speck of something under my nail. “I’ve got nothing to go to if I leave, but staying only hurts more.”

“He won’t always be like this.” She shrugs one shoulder. “The guys always get real distant when they’re tied up in club business.”

“How do you put up with it, though? The constant push and pull?”

Beth fusses with the blanket over her legs, yawning. “I make the routine mine. He pulls me close, I relish it, make memories for the quiet times. And when he pushes me away, I enjoy the time to myself, the break from it all.”

“Crackers, right?” I caught the panic on his face when he spotted her bleeding downstairs.

She nods, the evidence of her altercation clear as day in the swelling and bruising around her nose and eyes. “We aren’t exclusive, but I haven’t been with another man for over a year.”

“What’s stopping you being a couple?”

She shrugs. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t look at me that way.”

“He sleeps with other women?”

She nods, the pain as clear to read as a printed page. “Like I said, we aren’t exclusive.”

Still … how does she put up with it? How does he not see what it does to her? I don’t understand the rules around members and property, but damn it all if it doesn’t seem a little one-sided.

“Does …” I can’t even voice the thought. “Does Hooch sleep with other women?”

“I don’t think so.” Beth frowns, leaning forward to take my hand. “He’s not the same as Crackers, so don’t go gettin’ it in your sweet head that he’s heading off to spend time with another woman. They’re away on business, that’s all.”

It may as well be another woman though for the amount of time he spends away from me. I could count the hours we’ve had together on one hand.

Why do I stay?

I swing my legs around and sit on the side of the bed as Beth studies me quietly. There’s no denying I feel something for the big moron, but I can’t be a part of this pantomime. He wants me, he ignores me, he pleads with me to understand, and yet he won’t give me anything to help me do exactly that.

I can’t waste my days because this might be the best I get.

“When are they back?” I hang my head as I ask the question, unable to look Beth in the eye in case she can read my intentions clear as day.

“Crackers said at least three days.”

Plenty of time to get distance between us before he even realizes I’m missing. A small pang of regret grows in my gut at the thought of cutting and running, but surely he’ll understand? He’s blinded by his fantasy of what he thinks we have, when I’m around. Maybe if I go, maybe these days on the road away from me, will show him that he doesn’t need me after all.

Hooch isn’t the man who came looking for solace in the laundry room anymore. He hasn’t said a thing about stepping down since he got back to Fort Worth—if anything, he dove in to the role deeper. He’s got everything he needs to get better here already. He doesn’t need me anymore.

Everybody comes into your life for a reason, and maybe, just maybe, this is my sign that our time for each other has passed.

Neither of us needs somebody else to hold up us like we thought we did. Both of us are stronger than we realized. Two independent souls who simply needed to meet another the same, to see what was right in front of us the whole time.

That some people are destined to walk alone, whether they like it or not.