Chapter 21

Nicole

Blinding pain was the first thing I registered. I wasn’t positive, but I think maybe someone tried to pry my eyeballs out with a rusty spoon sometime last night. I opened my aching eyes and took in my surroundings. For the second time in a week I woke up to an empty bed and cold sheets. Wherever Tank had disappeared to, he was long gone. I painfully pushed a clump of wild, curly hair out of my eyes. Dammit, it was gonna be agony to tame my hair with my head aching and not having any of my normal product at hand. Because I was at Tank’s house.

Tank.

God. I closed my eyes with a muffled groan and slumped back into bed. Tank’s bed. Tank’s bed that I was very, very naked in, and alone. A tingle ran through me at the memory of how I’d ended up so naked. Maybe this whole exclusive thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Stella? Where are you, baby? Stella?” The female voice calling for Tank’s dog downstairs had me rethinking my stance on exclusivity.

Who the hell was searching through Tank’s house for his dog? What in the world was going on? I pushed the blankets aside and was reaching for the pile of clothes on the floor when the bedroom door opened and a forty-something brunette popped her head into the room.

“Stell—ack! I’m so sorry.” The door slammed shut and the brunette continued from the other side of the door. “I had no idea anyone was here. Uh, have you seen Stella by any chance?”

I winced as I pulled one of Tank’s T-shirts over my head and my pants from yesterday—sans panties—on before opening the door to Tank’s mystery guest.

“I just woke up. And I don’t think Stella is in here. Did you try the backyard?”

“Yes, and the kitchen and the living room. I can’t think where that dog has gone to. She’s old and blind. I thought she was done pulling her Houdini bullshit.”

Her familiarity with Tank’s dog threw me back a step until I remembered him ranting about his sister last night. Something about her husband being a douche and not letting Tank do anything about it. This woman was a touch older than Tank, but had the same hair color and hazel eyes. I held my hand out to her. “Christy, right?”

She blinked in surprise before shaking my hand. “Yes, and you are?”

“Nicole. Did you try the bathroom?” I took a second and grabbed my purse and cellphone on top of Tank’s dresser. “My friends’ dog got stuck in their bathroom a ton of times when we were little and couldn’t get out. But he would howl the place down.”

Christy led the way down the hall to the half bath off the living room. “I didn’t think to look there.”

Sure enough, a few moments later we liberated Stella from the bathroom. I settled onto a barstool in the kitchen with a tall glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. Meanwhile Christy measured out dry and wet food—gag—for Tank’s dog. Trying to ignore the pervasive aroma of the wet dog food, I idly thumbed through my texts. Two from Tank this morning—asking me to stick around and then warning me that Christy was coming over to feed and medicate his dog. That would’ve been nice to know twenty minutes ago. Too bad I’d been too hungover to hear my phone. Three texts from my mom. And two each from Jessica and Emily. Apparently my mom had called in the big dogs after dinner last night.

Christy brushed her hands off after setting Stella’s bowl on the floor. “So how long have you and Tank been—”

“Shit.” I cut her off. “It’s Friday.”

“Yeah, has been all morning.”

I groaned as I thumbed through my contacts and called Valentina. A “no call no show” so soon after my promotion would be disastrous and potentially career killing. I couldn’t go back to working for that dufus Doug. Why didn’t I text my boss last night?

“Good morning, Nicole. I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you today.”

I winced at the throbbing that intensified in my skull. “I am so sorry, Valentina. I—” And then what she’d said sank in. Had I actually texted her last night? “I, uh, wanted to make sure you got word that I was taking a personal day today.”

“Yes, I got your text. Just so you know, we really do prefer to have more warning, and I would like, in the future, that you contact me through traditional channels. But I hope everything is okay. Will we be seeing you Monday?”

“Yes.” I had to clear my throat to get the word out. “Yes, I’ll be in next week.”

“Okay. See you then.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

I stared at my phone in befuddlement. Could I really have been so drunk last night that I didn’t remember sending a text? The pounding behind my eyes answered “yes” in Morse code.

Christy cleared her throat awkwardly next to me. “Everything okay?”

“Please. Just shoot me now.” I put my head down on the soothingly cool countertop. “I am never, ever drinking with Brittany again.”

“Oh. You know Brittany.” I heard the change in Christy’s tone, but to be honest, my head was pounding too much to care. Until Christy continued. “I can’t believe Tank called me over to watch one of his club skanks.”

“What the hell?” I lifted my head and shot her a dirty look. “What did you just call me?”

“I’m sorry.” Christy’s sneer belied her apology. “Are you in denial over what you do? Does Valentina have a classier name for stripping? Do you call it ‘dancing’ or ‘stage performing’?”

“What the fuck? I’m a project manager in game development at GAGE. I have a fucking bachelor’s degree in computer science and a master’s in business. Why the hell would you think I’m a stripper?”

“You might not be a stripper for a living, but it doesn’t make your little side endeavors any less skanky—whoring around with his buddies at that motorcycle club. You might think you have your little hooks in my baby brother, but lemme tell you something. You will never have his heart. I can guaran-fucking-tee it.”

Another lifetime, hell, even two months ago, I would’ve let this bitch have it. But I knew how important she was to Tank, so I swallowed down my righteous anger and replied, “Thanks for coming over and feeding Stella. I’ll let you hash out all that other bullshit with Tank.”

“I still have to give Stella her medicine.” Christy tossed me a glare, then stomped over to the fridge. “Then I’m getting the hell outta here before I catch an STD or something worse from breathing the same air as you.”

Outwardly I shrugged and went back to thumbing through my texts from last night. Meanwhile inside I was seething. She’d called me a skank, and if it’d been anyone else I’d’ve ripped them a new asshole. Damn, I was practically vibrating with my suppressed ire. How could Tank’s sister talk about him like that? Did Tank have any idea of the disdain his sister had for the life he led? But I sure as hell wasn’t gonna judge him based on his family. Lord knew I couldn’t hold up my own as a stellar example.

After a minute I could actually read the texts in front of me despite my seething rage. I skimmed my mom’s texts again. Honey, let’s talk about this.

Followed by: He’s your father. You’re going to have to forgive him sooner or later.

How about never? I don’t know what she was thinking, but there was no way I was letting that asshole back into my life again.

And her last text: Just let me know you’re okay. I’m getting worried.

I sighed. She really knew how to lay on the guilt trip. Especially when I saw she must’ve asked my friends about me since I had two texts each from Jessica and Emily. Both mentioning my mom and wondering if I was okay.

Christy slammed the back door behind her as she left, and I winced, my head pounding behind my eyes. Damn Brittany and her tasty, tasty liquor.

Damn my parents and their drama.

“What am I gonna do, Stella?” I held the back of my hand out to her, letting her get used to my scent. Then, after a beat, I gently patted her head before rubbing behind her ears. “You can’t pick your family.”

Or maybe you can.

I looked at the concerned texts from Jessica and Emily, then bit the bullet and did something I’d been dreading ever since they accepted me as a friend. I got ready to tell them the truth.

I picked up my phone and dialed Jessica before I could talk myself out of it.

“Hey, Jess.”

“You’re alive? What the hell is going on? Your mom blew up my phone last night. She was really worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry about my mom. But that was what I wanted to talk to you about. You and Em. Can we meet up when Emily gets off work? I need to see you both.”

“Assuming she’s awake, we can meet up soon. Em took today off because of Street Vibrations. She’s helping Brittany set up for the barbecue in a few hours.”

“Great. Can you grab Em and come over here? There’s a few things we need to talk about. I’m not at home. I’ll text you the address.”

An hour later my face was washed, I was still wearing one of Tank’s T-shirts, and my two best friends were looking at me expectantly. I didn’t even know how to begin.

“Is this about Tank?” Emily smiled at me before darting her eyes around Tank’s living room. “Are you guys officially together?”

“No. Well, yes.” I briefly closed my eyes as I cursed my still throbbing head. “Yes, we are officially together, but no, that’s not what—” I broke off as Emily squealed in excitement. And then I cursed Brittany’s bartending skills one more time.

Emily hopped up, grabbed my hands, and bounced around. I grudgingly let her dance around me.

“I am so happy for you two. Tank is the best guy.” Emily grinned and shook her head. “Best available guy. Reb is one hot biker, if I do say so myself.”

“Wait, when did this happen? Where was I?” Jessica blinked at me in apparent bafflement. “You guys hardly know each other.”

“Uh, well, the first time was at your rehearsal dinner,” I explained. “Then again at your wedding. And we’ve been texting each other ever since.”

“So you guys have only been together for what…a week? If that?” Jessica’s brow wrinkled.

“Well, yeah. But again, that’s not why I called you guys over here.”

Jessica blinked her doe eyes at me. “And you’re already throwing around terms like ‘officially’? Isn’t that kinda soon?”

“We’re not engaged. I’m not getting a ‘Property of’ tattoo or being called his old lady. We just agreed last night that we’d be exclusive. That’s it. We’re…dating,” I said for lack of a better word to describe me and Tank. “We’re more official than just hooking up. He won’t let me call it that anymore. He wants more.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. I think I’m ready for more. More with him, anyhow.”

“Wow! I think it’s great! Emily and I can show you all around to the old ladies and the guys. You’re gonna fit right in like you wouldn’t believe!”

“You’re not worried that I won’t show them the proper amount of respect?” I asked, referencing our conversation in the floral shop before her wedding when she didn’t want me anywhere near her guys.

Jessica groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I know I was a total Bridezilla bitch. I don’t know how you guys put up with me for so long. Like it really mattered if your hair was up or if one table was missing a centerpiece. I was a monster.”

“We did it because we love you.” Emily pulled away from me and sat next to Jessica to pat her shoulder in consolation. “It’s as easy as that. But you only get so many freakouts before it turns from cute to bitchy, so you might wanna watch that.”

Jessica snorted with laughter before she pulled Emily in for a huge hug. Meanwhile I just stood there with a big, goofy smile on my face. Was it any wonder why I loved these women so much? They were always there for me. I’d never felt such unconditional love as I did when these two accepted me into their life.

“My dad is a one-percenter.” I just blurted it out like I had no control over my mouth. “He rode with a club back when we lived in Sacramento. We moved to Reno because he pled guilty to manslaughter and went to prison.”

Jessica and Emily stared at me with wide eyes like I’d suddenly grown horns or something. Neither one said anything at first. I stood there in front of them with my arms wrapped around my waist as tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want them to reject me, but they had every right to. I’d been such a bitch when they were falling in love with their bikers. Telling them to leave the guys. That they could do better. When all the while I’d been harboring such a huge secret. I’d betrayed them.

Jessica released a shaky breath. “Whew. That explains a lot.”

Not really sure what that meant, and not getting any clue from Emily which way she was leaning, I spoke up. “I, uh, I’m not done. My dad was a total ass. He was emotionally abusive to me, my brother, and my mom. He said some truly awful things—made us feel like we were worthless all the time. And he beat my mom. A slap here and there when things weren’t going his way at his job or with club stuff or if she looked at him wrong—whatever he thought she needed to put her in her place. But he never hit me. I think he might’ve been afraid of me—that I would tell someone—so he never tried it with me.” I had to stop and clear my throat before I could continue. “I’m not sure about Austin, though. We never talked about it, but sometimes my dad would call him out to the back porch for a ‘talk.’ And when Austin would come inside afterwards he’d be all red-faced. I’d thought from crying, but now I don’t know.”

“Aw, honey.” Emily jumped up from the couch and enveloped me in her arms. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t believe we didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was ashamed,” I whispered thickly as I buried my face in Emily’s shoulder. “My dad was such an asshole. He controlled our lives for so long, and then he went away because he killed someone. I didn’t want him to be my father. I didn’t want any part of him in my life anymore, not even his memory. So I pretended he wasn’t my dad. And then after a while I was so deep into my lie about who I was—who my family was—I didn’t know how to get out of it. I was afraid of losing you guys. I didn’t want either of you to hate me.”

“We could never hate you, Nic.” Jessica’s arms came around the two of us. “We love you.”

“We both love you. Unconditionally,” Emily murmured.

And I just lost it. Big, loud sobs that’d been inside for so long were wrenched from me. All the stored-up pain and fear poured out of me. I cried until Emily’s shoulder was a sopping mess and Jessica was handing me wads of toilet paper. After a few minutes, once I could breathe and see again, the three of us sat on the couch together and I told them the rest.

“My mom called me over for dinner last night—just me and her. She was all secretive about what she wanted to talk about. I had no idea what was going on. And then he showed up.”

Emily hugged me tight to her side as Jessica gave me a sympathetic smile.

“It was like the past fifteen years hadn’t happened. He was in control of everything, she was the frightened sparrow trying to placate him, and I was the uppity bitch who can’t forgive either of them.” I paused as what I said sank in. “I am the uppity bitch who can’t forgive. Why would she go back to him? How could she let him into her life after she got rid of him forever ago? I just…I can’t—I don’t understand.”

“She loves him,” Emily whispered. “Sometimes it’s really hard to face who the person you’re in love with really is. You tell yourself that it was only that one time or that he didn’t mean it or that he was so sorry after. I can fill a whole book with the justifications a woman gives herself or the false promises he makes to her. But she won’t see him for who he really is until she’s ready. You can’t make her come to that realization. You just can’t.”

My heart sunk as I listened to Emily talk. I knew she’d been in an abusive relationship. We’d all tried to get her to see who her (now) ex, Michael, truly was, but we couldn’t. Honestly, the correlation never even occurred to me. How selfish was that? God. I felt lower than snail slime for making her face her painful past again.

“Em, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m so, so sorry. I’m just, I don’t…Dammit.” I couldn’t talk because the tears were coming just as fast now as they had a few minutes ago.

Emily crushed me to her side. “Hey, don’t. You cannot be blaming yourself. It’s not your fault that I was with Michael for so long or that what your mom is going through now is so similar to my past crap. It’s not your fault.”

“But you don’t deserve to have to live through that again. I didn’t mean to make you think about him. I’m so sorry.”

“That part is on me. I picked him. I loved him. I forgave him way too many times to count. It’s a part of who I am. I can live with it. So can you.”

“I’ll never forgive him.”

“No one said you have to,” Jessica said from her spot on the other side of Emily.

And then I said the thing that had been eating me all night. “I just don’t know if I can forgive her.”