CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Loch
Staying at the clubhouse nearly every night was starting to wear on me. I like my quiet. And while I loved my brothers, I was at the point where I could’ve used a break from it all. We all were on edge and stressed out. I was almost convinced that being around each other was doing more harm than good. But the truth of it was that we all needed to be together at that time. We needed the support or one another.
Ever since Reagan came back from the hospital, I’d spent the first couple of nights at my house. Some nights, I was just too drunk to even leave the clubhouse. I knew drinking wouldn’t help me. But still, I found myself at the bottom of a bottle at the end of the night. And felt like shit the next day, in more ways than one. I was avoiding and I knew it. It was stupid but I didn’t know what else to do. It was too hard to be so close to her and not be with her.
I fucking missed her. That was what it all boiled down to. I wondered if my distanced was for the best. But I couldn’t find out the answers without going to her. And that led me back to the idea that I would only make it worse for her. I was so damn convinced that I was doing the right thing.
I decided it was time to go home. There were projects there I could throw myself into and I hoped that would help. As I pulled up into the driveway I saw Brand walking out of Ethel’s house carrying a box and a bag slung over his body. I hopped out of my truck wondering what the fuck he was doing as I watched him toss the stuff into Reagan’s car.
“What the hell is going on?” I barked.
His body snapped to face in my direction. Right away, I saw his pants and shirt were smeared with dried blood. My mind raced with all the things that could have happened. Most of them involved something bad with Reagan. Panic rose to the surface and there was a sharp pain in my chest that was almost crippling. He hadn’t called me, so I hoped there wasn’t any reason to be concerned. He sighed and looked at me. His face was hard and his eyes looked uneasy.
“Reagan is going to stay with Chris for a while,” he said. “She… I don’t know what happened. But I walked into the bathroom with her crumpled on the floor, mirror broken, and her hand was bleeding. She’s fine, but she can’t stay here anymore.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling when he got to the ends. If I would have stopped for a second, I would have focused on the helpless look in his eyes.
I was pissed. I was mad at myself that I wasn’t there for her. I was hurt that Brand was the one to take care of her. But at the same time, I was also thankful that he was there and knew what to do. I wasn’t sure I would have thought of that myself. I would have moved her into my house, into my bed, where I wanted her all along. Where I could watch over her. I felt that that would have been the worst thing to do. Hell, when it came to Reagan, I was at a loss about everything. I didn’t know what to do or even how I should do it.
“She’s okay?” I asked, knowing deep down that she wasn’t. I also knew she wouldn’t be quick to admit it. His nod was hesitant like he was thinking the same thing I was. I could see something behind his eyes. My body went rigid and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You got something you want to say?”
“No, Loch. I should get back over there.” His tone was flat. He turned from me. I knew he had things on his mind. I had a feeling he wanted to tell me off but thought better of it.
“You stay with her,” I said before he got into her car.
It was an order, one that I had given him more times than I probably should have. He turned to me and I could see he was clenching his jaw as his nostrils flared. His chest heaved and his fingers twitched at his sides. He was doing his best to not snap. I wanted the know what the fuck was going on. Why was he so pissed at me?
“You got it, VP,” he seethed. He slid into the car and whipped out of the driveway.
I looked up to the sky and let out a loud deep roar to the Heavens. I had never felt so lost and angry at the same time. Maybe I was wrong about everything. Maybe I had just fucked up the one true and good thing I’d ever had. Maybe I just wasn’t a good enough man for her.
My plans for going home and putting her out of my mind went to shit. I straightened up my house and organized the garage. I even fucking scrubbed the bathrooms, all three of them, from top to bottom. But nothing kept my mind from spinning out of control.
I thought about going to Ethel, but something deep in my guy felt ashamed. I couldn’t pinpoint why, though. It drove me fucking mad. I questioned my every move when it came to Reagan. Then I started to question my feelings. In the end, nothing changed. I still wanted her like I wanted the sun to rise in the morning. I still missed her with every bone in my body. And I still had no clue what to do about it.
Later, as I lay in bed, the images of her ran through my head. It didn’t fucking help that I could still smell her on my sheets. Even weeks later, her scent lingered. It hit me like at damn knife to the gut. I wished everything wasn’t so fucked up. I kept thinking that if I hadn’t taken her to the clubhouse that night, things would be different. If I had just sat her down the moment I knew how I felt about her and told her. If the shit with Race and The Devil’s Kings hadn’t happened. If I had just gone home fifteen minutes earlier that night she was attacked. The fucking ‘what ifs’. Nothing you could do about them but yet they still drove you crazy.
At the end of a long and sleepless night, I wasn’t any closer to having the right answers.