Chapter 27

Nicole

NOVEMBER 9

I blinked hazily as my childhood bedroom came into focus. The Lenny Kravitz poster on the wall opposite my bed clued me in. As did the black curtains and bedding. I’d been a moody, pain-in-the-ass teenager. So really not much had changed. I wallowed in my twin-size bed with its comfy sheets and soft quilt for a while. Everything felt perfect in that hazy, still-kinda-asleep phase.

Until clarity hit and I remembered.

Stitch. Brittany. Bear. Tank. Mom.

It was a tough call which name hurt the most. It’d been several days, but the ache felt as strong as it did that first night Tank had grudgingly left me at my apartment. He’d said something about grabbing my purse and coming back after the meeting was over at the club, but I called a cab to take me home the second his truck turned the corner. I needed space to think shit through, and I couldn’t do that with Tank and company breathing down my neck.

But really, there was never a safe place to hide forever.

“Honey.” My mom knocked on my bedroom door. “Are you up? Jessica is on her way over.”

Case in point.

I groaned and buried my head under my pillow. My voice was muffled when I answered. “Tell her I’m sick or something.”

The door hinges squeaked as my mom opened the door. “You have been hiding here for days, without so much as a phone call to your friends or your boyfriend or an explanation to me. Tell her yourself. I’m not lying for you.”

“But you’ll lie for Dad?” I pushed the bedding out of my face and confronted my mom.

My mom flinched but stared solidly back at me. “We weren’t talking about your father.”

“Why would we? It’s the big elephant in the room that we’ve ignored my entire life. No point in starting now.”

“Right now the elephant in the room is whatever happened to make you run back here. Why won’t you talk about it, honey?”

Because it’s about him, I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. Like a good WASP family, minus the affluence, we never discussed him. So instead I deflected. “When Jessica comes over I’m not here. I’m not coming out of my room, and you can’t make me.”

My mom sighed. “Okay.”

The door closed softly behind her, and I felt as small and petulant as I ever had. I couldn’t seem to make a move without hurting or pissing off someone. I didn’t know what to do. In one stupid move I’d lost my guy and my best friends, and killed one of their husbands. I don’t think there were enough words that could convey how stupid and horrible and heartbroken I felt. So I didn’t try. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next thing I knew my bedroom door squeaked open again. I sighed and rubbed at my crusty eyes. “Can’t we just leave it, Mom? I won’t ask you about Dad and you don’t ask me about—” I had to stop and clear my froggy throat. “You don’t ask me about Tank. Deal?”

“No deal,” Jessica answered. “I’m not your mom and you can ask me anything you want about my dad. He’s a pretty boring guy, though.”

I sat up and glared at my former friend as I mentally cursed myself for not locking my door. “What do you want?”

Jessica’s brow wrinkled. “Seriously, Nic? I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you. You disappeared without a word. You haven’t been home. You haven’t been to work. You’re not answering your phone.”

“Well, then, someone needs to fill you in, because you sure as hell wouldn’t give a shit about me if you knew what happened that night.”

“I don’t even…Are you drunk? It’s ten o’clock in the freaking morning, Nic, and you’re holed up at your mom’s house. What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Because it’s club business? Is this about the shooter? The guy who Reb drove away with?”

I shrugged.

“Fine. Let’s put a pin in that, then. What about Brittany? How the hell could you ghost Brittany when she’s all alone now? She needs her friends around her. She needs you.”

I’d had it. Between my mom’s pushing and Jessica’s needling and my guilt, I snapped. “BECAUSE IT’S MY FAULT! I opened my big mouth and now Brittany doesn’t have a husband. Stitch is dead because of me.”

“Oh my God, Nic.” Jessica rushed over to the bed and smothered me with her huge breasts. “That’s not true. There’s no way it’s true.”

I sniffled as I leaned into her embrace. It felt good to have someone’s arms around me. Even if she was too soft and didn’t smell like Tank. “It is. You weren’t there for that part.”

“But I was there to see Brittany fall apart.” Jessica pulled back and frowned at me. “I’ve been there, helping her out with arrangements and notifying family. I have been there. Where were you?”

I flinched at Brittany’s name. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see her sobbing as she screamed for Stitch. My heart hurt. I just couldn’t say anything in my defense. There was no defense. I didn’t deserve one.

“I’ve been there to see Tank freak out because he can’t find you. He wouldn’t be worried about you if this was all your fault. That man loves you, and he deserves—”

“Someone who didn’t sell out his club to the enemy. I heard the guys at the clubhouse that night, Jess. They don’t want me anywhere near them. They blame me. Once Tank comes to terms with it, he will, too. You all will.”

“I am so tempted to slap you right now. Have you seriously been holed up here for days, not talking to anyone because you’re too busy having a little pity party? Stitch died. Brittany lost her husband. She needs you. Tank lost his best friend, his fucking mentor. He needs you. Get your head out of your ass.”

“I just…I feel so guilty,” I whispered. I couldn’t meet Jessica’s eyes, so I concentrated on picking my cuticles like it was the most important thing on earth. “I don’t know if I can look into their eyes, knowing what I did, and not feel like I’m being flayed alive. I’m not that strong.”

“Suck it up, buttercup. Brittany and Tank are in real pain. They need you.” Jessica sighed as she stood up and walked toward my bedroom door. “Stitch’s service is at eleven o’clock Saturday, at the Valley View Christian Church on Geiger Grade Road. You better be there. If not for Brittany, then at least go for yourself. You’ll see that no one blames you. No one.”

I could hear the depth of concern in her voice, so I finally lifted my head and nodded. “Can I ask you something? Before you go?”

“Sure, Nic. What is it?”

“How do you do it? You and Zag have a baby together. Aren’t you worried that one of these days, it’ll be him?”

Because that was really what lay at the heart of my self-imposed exile. I did feel a huge amount of guilt about my part in Stitch’s death. But until now I’d never considered that one day it could be Tank. Could I live with that? What kind of life would we have together if I spent every moment afraid he’d be gone?

Jessica gave a little half smile as she leaned against my old desk. “Every time he’s late for dinner or goes out on club business.”

“How do you—why do you stay with him? Doesn’t all the fear and worry screw with your head and make it harder to be with him?”

“I can’t not be with him. I love him. Next to my dad, he’s the greatest man I’ve ever known. I can’t throw all that away over what might happen. Heck, I’d never get out of bed if I was worried about what might happen.”

I nodded slowly as I thought over what Jessica said.

“Don’t forget, Nicole, you’re the nutty risk taker of our crew. If anyone can hack it as a biker’s old lady, it’s you.”

I had to laugh at Jess’s pseudocompliment. She was the badass who’d been shot last year. Jessica was the definition of nutty risk taker. “Could you not tell Tank where I am? I just…I’m not ready to see him yet.”

Jessica nodded. “Hey, the boys have their club business. Us girls have our own business, too. But I will tell him that you’re still alive and just need a little space. Otherwise he’ll be the next one breaking down your door.”

“Thank you.”

“What are sisters for? I’ll see you Saturday.” With one last soulful look at me, Jessica left.

I sat there for a second thinking about what she said. I know she was right. I wasn’t a hundred percent about Brittany being comfortable seeing me, but I knew Tank at least needed me. I just wasn’t sure how I’d fit into his life right now. Could he look at me and not see his buddy bleeding out on the asphalt?

“It was your father, wasn’t it?”

I jumped as my mom suddenly appeared in my bedroom doorway. Biting my lip, I jerked my chin in a short nod. I couldn’t lie to my mom. She deserved to know.

“Goddammit.” She grabbed the door jamb to help hold herself up. “Why? Why do I keep letting him do this to us?”

My stomach cramped as I watched my mom. I know she needed comfort, but I was still kinda angry with her. She’d let him back into our life. It was irrational, I know, but I couldn’t stop feeling resentful over her part in Stitch’s death, too.

My mom sniffled and wiped under her eyes.

But at the end of the day, she was still my mom. “Are you okay, Mom?”

“I guess I’m gonna have to be. Because he’s gone, right? He’s not coming back?”

I know what I promised Reb, but my mom deserved to know. For the first time I could remember, we talked openly about the kind of man my father was. “He killed the husband of one of my friends. On club-owned property. Bear was alive the last time I saw him, and I don’t know what they had planned for him, but I do know he’s never coming back.”

My mom nodded as she absorbed the news. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her all the ugliness he’d spewed the last time I saw him. I might’ve been pissed that she brought him back into our lives, but I sure as hell wasn’t gonna rub salt in her wounds. But maybe one day I’d get up the courage to ask her what he meant when he called Austin a bastard. We both just lingered there, lost in our own morose thoughts.

Finally, my mom blinked and stood upright. “Just don’t tell your brother, okay? He’s better off not knowing what happened to your father, especially if your guy had a hand in it. Sounds like he’ll be sticking around for a while.”

“Wait, you’re okay with it? With me being with Tank after…”

“You love him, don’t you?”

I nodded slowly. “I think I might.”

“And he’s good to you? Doesn’t belittle you or get physical?”

“No, Mom. Never.”

She smiled sadly. “I always wanted better for you than I had for myself. At least I did one thing right.”

After talking to Jessica, I understood a little bit about the kind of life my mom had decided to live with my dad. I didn’t think I’d ever completely understand, given the asshole my dad is—was—whatever. But I had to give her huge props for what she did for us, for herself, after he went to prison. So I jumped off my bed and walked over to my mom, then gave her a huge hug.

“I think you did a lot of things right,” I whispered as I held her.

She gave a huge shuddering breath then broke down. My eyes welled up at the sound of her heartbreak. We held onto each other and sobbed.