As it turned out, the shower did help with Lind’s appearance but not so much with his mental clarity, which only began to return to him once he started getting some black coffee into his system. He wasn’t sure he would stay sober for long (he wasn’t even sure he wanted to), but he was more or less sober now, as he sat in a busy café with Alec, who most uncharacteristically was nursing a pumpkin spice latte.
“Really?” Lind said, finally deciding to address the matter. “A girl’s drink?”
Alec snorted. “It’s Linda’s fault. She’d been having this weird craving all throughout the pregnancy and got me addicted to the stuff.”
Lind smirked but refrained from commenting. Alec was on edge enough, what with his most trusted ally spiraling out of control (even Lind was still smart enough to admit that he was, indeed, a loose cannon) and having to deal with two newborns and an exhausted wife.
“Feeling better?” Alec asked after a few minutes.
Lind shrugged. “A little,” he said. “But don’t go thinking this is a permanent thing.”
Alec’s eyes flashed. “Why do you have to be such an asshole?” he snapped.
Lind had no idea why; he just knew that it made him feel a little better to push everything and everyone away.
“Is this really all about that girl from the nightclub?”
Lind looked down into his mug and carefully avoided his friend’s stare as he answered. “I guess so,” he admitted quietly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Lind looked up then, surprised at the outburst.
“Do really mean to tell me that this is all because of some skank you’ve known for a month of your life?”
It was Lind’s turn to glare. His blue eyes flashed dangerously, and he saw Alec flinch a little at the sudden return of the Viper.
“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Lind growled.
Alec raised both hands in surrender. “OK, I’m sorry,” he said. “I meant no offense.”
“Eve is not a skank,” Lind said again through gritted teeth.
“I get it.” Alec tried to reassure him. “I’m sorry.”
Lind watched him carefully and then nodded curtly, taking another skip of black coffee.
“But anyway,” Alec continued after a moment of careful silence, “is this really all about her? For real?”
Lind rolled his eyes. “What’s so hard to get about that?”
“Well…” Alec hesitated. “However special she was,” he said cautiously, “you have to admit that this thing you’re doing is really out of character.”
“What would you do if you lost Linda?”
Alec blinked. “Probably the same thing,” he admitted after a moment. “But it’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s my wife,” Alec said. “Because I’m in love with her—” He cut himself off, realization finally dawning on him. “Oh shit. Are you in love with the girl from the nightclub?”
“Her name is Eve,” Lind said, annoyed. “And yes, I guess I am.” He sighed heavily, the admission draining quite the amount of energy from him. Suddenly, he wasn’t so willing to keep up his guard anymore. “I’m trying to get her out of my head, and it’s proving damn near impossible.”
“I don’t get it,” Alec admitted after a moment. “How could you fall for her after only one month?”
Lind shrugged. “Fuck if I know,” he said. “Believe me, I’m not liking it.”
Alec snorted. “I’ll bet.” He let silence settle in between them and let it stay there for a while. Then, carefully, he said, “Still, you’ve got to get your shit together.”
“Why?”
Alec blinked. “What do you mean, why? Because the club needs you.”
Lind didn’t say anything. “Because the club needs you.” There was a time when that one sentence would have been enough to snap him out of whatever slump he had fallen into. There was a time when that one sentence meant everything. Now, it meant nothing. No matter how hard he tried to care, he simply didn’t. He felt empty and drained, and he couldn’t care less about what the MC or even Alec wanted or needed.
“Well?” Alec prompted.
“Well, what?”
“Don’t you have anything to say to that?”
“I don’t care.”
Alec stared at him, petrified. “What did you just say?”
“I said, I don’t care,” Lind said, straightening his shoulders and looking his friend straight in the eye. “I wish I did, but I don’t. I just can’t bring myself to give a shit.”
Alec watched him speechless for a moment. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “I’m going to pretend it was just your best friend who heard the words, and not the president of the MC. Because if the others heard you say that, they would kick your sorry ass out in a heartbeat.”
“Would you?” Lind asked. “Would you throw my ass out in a heartbeat?”
“I would,” Alec said after a moment’s reflection. “To be honest, right now, I would. You’re a fucking danger, Lind, to yourself and to the club. Frankly, I’m getting sick of it.”
“Well then, why don’t you?” Lind challenged him. “Why don’t you kick me out? You’re the president, you have the power.”
Alec didn’t rise to the bait. “Because no matter what an inconsiderate asshole you are, you’re still my best friend and, goddamn me, I care about you. So, I’m going to do anything I can to help you before taking any drastic measures. But you gotta help me out here. I can’t help you if you don’t want to be helped.”
Lind laughed. He couldn’t help it, the absurdity of the situation was too glaring. “Are you seriously giving me the ‘help me help you’ speech?”
Anger flashed across Alec’s features. He had never taken lightly to anyone making fun of him. “Fuck off,” he growled. “I’m trying to keep you alive. God knows if the drugs and alcohol and the others don’t get you, some goddamned STD will.”
“Now you’re preaching about safe sex, too?”
Alec slammed his fist down onto the table. “Ok, that’s it,” he growled. “You know what? Go fuck yourself. Drink. Get high. Fuck your whores. Self-destroy. See if I give a shit.”
Lind watched him get to his feet. “Does that mean dinner is off the table?”
Alec gave him a look that would have set fire to a lake, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he walked away, just as Lind wanted him to.
Lind watched him go and then went back to his black coffee. He was being an asshole; there was no question about that. But he couldn’t do otherwise. Past the emptiness he felt inside, there was a kind of anger so all-consuming that he couldn’t wait to get it out. He knew, however, that if he did give in to it, the results would be disastrous to save the least. So, he fed it small morsels here and there and did his best to keep it at bay.
He had the feeling he had just lost Alec’s support. He knew he would be safe from the Diamondbacks, at least for now; he wasn’t worried about the president of the MC. He was a little worried about his friend. He had the feeling he might have pushed Alec too far this time. His friend had been trying to drag him out of his self-destructive spiral for months now, with no success. Every time Lind reacted with more strength than he thought he still possessed, pushing him farther and farther away, and closer and closer to the edge. It was only a matter of time before Alec snapped, and Lind had the feeling that today had been it.
He didn’t feel guilty about it, and that was probably the thing that scared him the most. No matter how hard he tried to feel anything past the dullness and the anger, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t feel guilty about treating Alec like crap. He didn’t feel guilty about the drugs. He didn’t feel guilty about drinking himself into a stupor pretty much every day. He didn’t feel guilty about fucking a different woman pretty much every night. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t feel anything at all. He couldn’t even bring himself to admit that it was a bad thing, because when he didn’t feel anything he didn’t feel the pain either. And that was a great, glorious, marvelous thing.
Lind finished his coffee and left the café, walking aimlessly around the neighborhood. Fresh air didn’t help with anything either. It didn’t clear his head, and it didn’t lift his heart. As he walked, however, Lind came to a realization. He realized that he was retreating deeper and deeper into himself. He was getting himself removed from everything and everyone in the outside world. With each passing day, he felt more and more like a breathing, walking shell.
The realization didn’t shock him. It didn’t scare him. It didn’t horrify him. If anything, it brought him a kind of relief like he had not felt in a very long time. It brought him a dark, dangerous lightness of being—or non-being. There was a small, distant voice in his head telling him that he was being a fool. It told him that this was dangerous. It told him that he was losing himself and that, if he continued down this road, he would most likely lose his life.
But Lind had never been one for listening to little voices in his head, and he wasn’t about to start now. Whatever this non-being thing was, he was beginning to dig it. Emotions and feelings were nullified. No more pain, no more sense of being inadequate. No more frustration. No more thoughts of Eve and of what they might have had together if only they didn’t come from entirely different planets. No more longing. No more lonely nights and endless days. No more worrying about what Alec and the club would think or say. No more worrying about what they might do to him if they reached the end of their endurance and patience. Let them think and say and do whatever. Lind didn’t care. Lind didn’t care about anything or anyone, and it felt wonderful.
For the first time in four months, one week, and four days—(but who was counting?)—he felt light. He didn’t feel whole, but he had never felt whole in his life—except maybe with Eve. But he was not going to go there—so what was one more crack? He knew he was getting a little more broken with each passing day, and he didn’t care about that either.
He thought about the MC for a fleeting moment. Could he really leave them hanging? Could he really turn his back on them? Who would watch Alec’s back?
To his momentary dismay (every feeling inside of him was very short lived), he realized that he did not care about that either. Alec was a big boy; he could take care of himself. As for the MC, what did he owe them, really? So what if they had given him the first real sense of family he had ever gotten? It was all an illusion. The moment they thought he was a dead weight, they would cut his rope. Some family.
Yes, he decided after some reflection. He really could leave them hanging. He really could turn his back on them. They would find a way to handle their business without him; no one was irreplaceable. They would just have to make do without the Viper. And if they ever felt betrayed, that was their problem. They should try some of this non-being themselves, Lind thought; they would feel better instantly.
He chuckled to himself at the stream of consciousness within his mind. He wasn’t sure that it was because of the stupor he had been living in for four months, one week, and four days. Maybe it was just a result of finally realizing that there were things bigger than him. Bigger than the Viper and the Diamondbacks and Alec Moore. Like love, for example.
Shaking his head, he was hit with the enormity of just how far down he had fallen. So, Lind made a turn and headed to his favorite pub. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, and it was time for a pint.