Sage

Two months later

I nod at Pria to fill my glass again, and let the liquid roll down my throat, the sting no longer present. “Hitting it hard today, aren’t you?” Pria asks, raising her perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. I wave her off. It’s no business of hers why I’m drinking. The past two months have been great, when it comes to being welcomed into the Rhino chapter. But the past two months regarding Brook and the fact that I haven’t heard from her have been fucking hell. No, hell isn’t quite the word for it—purgatory comes close, but it feels much worse. Each day after I left, I picked up my phone with the intention of calling her, just to hear her voice. Then two fucking weeks after picking my balls off the ground, I called, only to find her phone disconnected. From there, I called everyone else I could think of. All of the women married to my brothers. None of them would help, and I swear to fuck one time I called Ari, Brook was right there across from the woman, but still, I got nothing. I even called her brother, but he was fuck all help too. Telling me when she was ready to talk to me, she would. But today isn’t the fucking day, nor were the last sixty.

I gesture for another round when Brood comes stomping up to sit next to me at the bar, roughly pulling his stool out in a huff. “Fuckin’ women,” he grumbles, and Pria promptly drops down a fresh glass and a bottle of Lord Clavert. Brood bypasses the glass and twists the cap off, tossing it onto the floor without a care before taking a long pull straight from the bottle.

“You have to pay for the whole bottle, Brood. No freebies,” Pria warns, and he just glares her way.

“I got it, Pria.” I toss another bill onto the bar, which she quickly snatches up. “Old lady problems?” I know Brood has an old lady, has since high school, though she isn’t much of a wife to the man. Gone more than she’s around, and when she is around, she’s high as a kite.

“Nah. That shit hasn’t changed,” he grumbles, taking another swig. “Cora,” he says, coming back to the problem after another long drink. “Bitch says she’s knocked up. My kid too, she claims.” I give a noncommittal shrug, knowing full well what he means by claims. The woman has been with every man in the club who ain’t tied down, even tried to climb up on my dick once or twice since I’ve been here. “She just showed up at the club and asked for money to get an abortion. I tossed some at her and got the fuck out,” he says, making my gut churn, wondering if that’s something Brook has considered, or god fucking forbid has already gone through with. It gives me an overwhelming urge to try calling for a third time today.

“You aren’t concerned it might be yours?”

“‘Course I am. But, fuck, that woman is in no way mother material. Shit, she probably gets higher than my damn wife, and maybe even together. No, whoever the kid belongs to, it’s a courtesy to the poor kid. No one should have to come into this world addicted to smack and grow up with a drugged-out mom. No fucking way,” he says, hitting at something deep rooted in his soul I decide not to touch on. Skeletons have a way of hanging around to drag you down, right back to the grave they refuse to rest in.

“I hear ya, brother,” I say, and watch as he tips his bottle to fill my empty glass.

“You ever hear from her?” he asks me as I knock my drink back. The whole damn club knows my business, Gin made sure to let them all know the reason for my forced transfer.

“No. Still won’t answer,” I admit, then glance down at my phone to see if she may have called. Of course she hasn’t, but I still keep looking. “She won’t either. Got a lot to process, and if Gin has a say in it—which he does—I won’t ever see her again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, brother. He’s a hard ass, but wasn’t it him who married his best friend’s daughter?” Brood asks, referring to Fuzz, Grace’s biological father she never got the chance to meet before he died. Gin promised he would look out for the girl, but the fucker fell in love with her.

“Yeah, that would be him. Only difference there is Fuzz is gone and ain’t coming back from the dead to kill him for touching his little girl, like Gin did. Fucking Ringer warned me. Said Gin would come back from the dead and kill me for being with Brook. Never in a million would have believed him.”

“Fuck yeah. Ain’t that some shit,” Brood chuckles.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad my brother is still alive, I fucking am, but damn—it’s just fucked up.”

“Agreed.” We sit there at the bar in the small town of Rhino and finish off the bottle, shooting the shit with the customers who come in and out of the establishment. Some are members, some just people who live in the town, population of one-fifty. It’s small, the club taking up a big part of the town. When the school shut down due to a decrease of funds and teachers, the club came in and bought it and made it into the Rhino Chapter. Then they bought up all the houses surrounding it, most of which were empty or close to being condemned. The remaining occupants either moved away to get as far from the club as they could or took a payout to move to the closest town seventeen miles away. There still are some who live in town, like Pria. She owns the bar and lives above it, handed down to her from her dad. If I remember correctly.

The moon is out, almost full, and lights my way down the cracked black top road. Each step I take is longer than the last until I reach my front step and walk up to my door. It’s unlocked—as always. No reason to lock your doors around here. Not even enough people in town to steal your shit and be able to get away with it. So, when I stop inside and instantly feel the presence of someone in my house, I pause and reach back for the knife sheathed at my side. “You aren’t going to need that.” Her sweet voice floats to my ears, and for a second, I don’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Brook?”

“Yeah. Guess I couldn’t stay away from you after all.” She flicks on the light next to the chair she is sitting in, stands, then starts walking my way. “How have you been?”

“How have I been?” I almost laugh at her. “How have I been. Well, let’s see, I get kicked out of my club and my best friend now fucking hates me. I’ve been trying to call the mother of my kid for two months and she hasn’t answered. Hell, I don’t even know if there is a kid anymore.” The last part comes out, and I can’t take it back. It makes her flinch slightly, but she holds steady.

“There is,” she assures me, crossing her arms over her stomach protectively. I hate myself in that moment, knowing I caused her to do that, making her think she needs to protect our child from me. “I just. I’m sorry. I couldn’t just leave with you. I needed…time…” she pauses, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I had to make a new relationship with Gin—my dad—before coming. We got a second chance, and I had to take it. I knew talking to you would only make me want to drop everything and come. So, I didn’t.” I nod, forcing myself to understand her reasoning. She did get a second chance, and to not take it would have been a mistake.

“Sorry. I’ve just been going a little crazy.” She gives a slight smile, most likely unsure of where to go from here. But I do. “Goddamn, I missed you, kid,” I say, stepping forward enough to reach her, but still I don’t touch. “Please tell me you’re here to stay, baby. I don’t think I could handle leaving you again.” I look down at her big blue eyes staring up at me.

“I don’t think I could either.”

That’s when I let my hands go where they want, threading through her long, beautiful blonde hair and pulling it tight in my fingers to direct her ready mouth to mine.