20. Nova
Chapter twenty
Nova
H arper knocks on my door and peeks her head in not long after Cillian walks out. She makes a spectacle of looking around the room like she’s checking for something.
“No bloodshed. That’s a good sign.”
“He took my gun away, remember?” I ask dryly.
The corner of her mouth tips up. “Oh yeah.” She walks the rest of the way in and closes the door behind her then has a seat on the bed next to me. “How did it go? I didn’t hear any yelling or loud moaning, so I’m not sure when it comes to you two.”
“We had a conversation.”
“And…” she prods.
“And, it was fine. He apologized for his behavior, and I let him. I’m too tired to hold shit against people today.” And too tired to talk to her about what he was going to say to me before I tried to bolt again the other night. I still haven’t wrapped my head around that one. Bigger fish to fry and all that, I guess.
“Does that go for Ozzy and the rest of the Black Roses?”
I lie back against the fluffy pillows at the head of the bed and scrub a hand over my face. “I don’t know. What you said earlier was pretty spot on.”
“Because everything I say is spot on.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not that I haven’t blamed Cooper or been mad at him. Trust me, I’ve done my share of screaming at him.” My mind wanders to the night Harper called me for help when I was at the lake doing just that. God, what was that? Only three, maybe four nights ago? The hours and days have blended together since Tony found me outside that house in the middle of nowhere. “Sometimes it’s just easier to blame something or someone I don’t know or have any emotional attachment to, maybe? Like it’s easier to take it all out on the Black Roses rather than admit I’ve been angry with Coop for a lot of things, including leaving me. Logically, I know dying wasn’t his fault, but that’s one more thing that enrages me. It was easier to blame Ozzy for his death than be mad at my dead brother for leaving. Does that make sense?”
Harper rests her hand on my knee. “Of course it does, babe.”
“The fact of the matter is, I don’t really know Ozzy or anyone here except Cash, and I’ve shut him out since Coop’s death, too.”
“Well, I’d say the fact that the president of an outlaw motorcycle club who knew you hated him was willing to let you come here and was willing to protect the both of us says a lot about him. And it says a lot about Coop that this was who and what he pledged his loyalty to.”
My eyes fill with tears, and Harper scoots up the bed and lies down on the pillow next to me, turning her face toward mine.
“I need to let that anger go, Harp. I need to move on. It’s been eating me alive, and I need to put it to rest. I’m so fucking tired of being mad about Cooper. I just want to be able to remember him without this black pit of rage in my chest.” I rub the spot right above my heart.
“Maybe it was some sort of twist of fate that we ended up here. Maybe you were supposed to be here so you could finally let this go.”
“You think the universe had a hand in you getting kidnapped by a man who pretended to be your boyfriend to gain your trust, only to sell you to some Russian piece of shit? Then, me coming to your rescue, only to get taken right alongside you? Oh, then having a gunfight at Port NOLA and needing a place to lie low until Cillian can find your ex and put him six feet under?”
“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds crazy.” Harper groans. “Jesus, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.”
“Please, never try,” I say, deadpan.
Harper laughs as a quiet knock sounds on the door.
“Come in,” I answer.
A girl with dark-brown hair and big blue eyes peeks her head in. “Hey, I’m Charlie, Linc’s girlfriend.”
I smile at her kind voice and the way she seems unsure about disturbing me. This girl can’t be much older than Harper and me, if at all.
“Nova,” I say, pointing to myself. “And Harper.” I point my thumb at my best friend, who’s wearing a warm smile on her face as well.
“Linc and Knox’s mom made some food. It’s in the kitchen if you're hungry. I would definitely suggest getting some before the guys find out she dropped it off. They’re like feral animals when Tanya cooks.”
“Sounds good. Did she happen to make anything vegan?” I ask.
Charlie looks uncomfortable with the question like she’s about to disappoint me.
“This is a clubhouse full of bikers, so I can say with one-hundred-percent certainty, no.”
“Oh, thank God. I need some meat and potatoes. Oh, and some giant rolls with like three pounds of butter on each.”
Charlie shakes her head and laughs. “Well, you’re in luck because Tanya is famous for her roast, which is what she made, and Cece, Lucy’s sister, makes the best damn baked bread…” She looks at me with regret in her gaze.
I know the name but have yet to meet the woman who was with my brother when he took his final breaths.
Charlie was right about these guys acting like a pack of feral dogs when they realized the food was out. Had Harper and I not grabbed a heaping plateful before they ascended on the table that sits to the left of the kitchen door, we’d be eating crumbs.
Chatter around us is constant, and for the most part, the guys keep their eyes on their plates or talk among themselves. I’ve caught a few glances thrown in my direction, but when I make eye contact, there’s nothing but a sympathetic smile in their eyes. Not the hardened looks I’d have expected considering I didn’t exactly walk into the clubhouse with the best attitude.
It’s when Charlie and a girl I don’t recognize walk over to the table Harper and I are sitting at by ourselves that the room quiets. I saw her sitting with a biker who looked an awful lot like the man who helped us escape Tony in New Orleans. This guy is a smidge taller, with longer hair, and looks to be a few years younger, but he has the same air of unbothered confidence that I saw in his brother, Liam. Now, the man’s eyes are fixated on the interaction that’s about to take place, along with just about every other person in this room. That’s not intimidating at all or anything.
“Hi,” the woman says, nodding toward Harper and me. “I’m Lucy.”
I offer her a tight smile, unsure of what I’m supposed to say here. This moment feels more monumental to me than walking into the clubhouse did. She was the last person to see my brother alive.
“Mind if I sit?” she asks.
I stare at her for a beat. The thought, you were the last person with Cooper; you were the last person to see my brother alive running over and over in my head. Then I realize I haven’t answered her and probably look about as welcoming as my old neighbor, Mrs. Givens, who lived down the street from Cooper and me when we were kids. That woman’s sole purpose in life was to sit on her front porch and yell at us for causing a racket during her “stories.” I don’t even know if she actually watched soap operas or just sat on her rocking chair all day every day to holler at us.
“Of course,” I finally reply, shaking my head a bit.
Lucy smiles and sits across from me with Charlie taking the seat across from Harper. “Thank God. I didn’t want to ambush you in your room while you were getting settled, so I told myself I’d wait to see if you would come out. I figured you probably have…I don’t know, questions? Maybe you want to scream at me? Figured we should get it out of the way so our men aren’t worried that as soon as they leave, we’ll be pulling each other’s hair out or something.”
“Are you a hair puller?”
“No, I prefer a more direct approach, like a punch to the nose.”
My lips quirk in a small smile. “So their eyes water and then you can go in on them?”
Lucy laughs. “Exactly. I take it you’ve been schooled in the art of street fighting?”
“I grew up with a loud mouth and a protective older brother, so yeah, he taught me a few things.”
Lucy’s smile drops when I mention my brother. “I was there with him. When he died.”
“I know. Cash told me when I talked to him after it happened.” The only time I talked to him, actually. After that conversation I was firmly in the I hate the Black Roses and anyone associated with them mindset. “Did he…did he say anything before he died?”
Lucy shakes her head. “No. It happened so fast. It was instant, though. I doubt that helps, but he didn’t suffer. I wanted you to know that. He went for his gun so he could get us out of an impossible situation. But Otto got to him first.”
“Did Otto suffer?”
A chilling smile spreads across Lucy’s face. “Yes. They all did.”
“Good.” I’m not a particularly violent person by nature, but when it comes to my brother, had the people truly responsible for his death not paid the ultimate price, I would have no problem making it my life’s mission to see them rot in hell.
“I don’t blame you,” I say. “Cooper made his choices and I have to learn to live with them. I think…I think my anger was misplaced for a really long time.” My gaze cuts to Harper who is wearing a soft, knowing smile as she reaches over and squeezes my arm.
“I blamed myself for a long time. What if I hadn’t needed something as stupid as a change of clothes? What if I’d been keeping a better eye out for someone following us? I should have known that crazy asshole would’ve tried something the first chance he got. They were after me. The men who ran us off the road. I don’t know how much you know about what happened, but they killed Cooper so they could take me back to the cult I grew up in. Punish me for leaving and all that. I was supposed to marry Otto’s son, but I ran before the wedding. He wanted me back, so he came to Shine to take me.”
I knew Cooper was protecting her from some bad people, but I had no idea she ran from a fucking cult or that they hunted her down.
“Jude said when he found Cooper, he made a promise to him to exact retribution for what they did. He rode back with Cooper’s”—she pauses and visibly swallows—“with Cooper from the crash site. He didn’t want him to be alone.”
When I look just beyond Lucy’s shoulder, I see Jude watching us. The look in his eyes isn’t menacing, but he’s definitely keeping a close watch on the situation. I send him a small smile of thanks, though I’m not sure if he can hear the story Lucy’s telling me.
“Liam came with them when they rescued me. Well, all of us, really. The men tried to defend the compound, but they were no match for the Black Roses or Liam’s team. The leaders were taken out in the old church, and the rest of the men died pretty much the same way. We took the women back with us, and they live in a women’s shelter not far from here. Except for my sister Cece. She lives with us. Jude and I go there every week to teach a self-defense class.”
“Wow. I had no idea the Black Roses took an interest in helping women like that,” I say.
“They aren’t upstanding citizens. But they are good men, and they don't stand for anyone hurting women or kids. That’s how I knew Charlie and I were safe here when we came. I knew they wouldn’t let anyone hurt either of us and get away with it. And that includes you and Harper. After tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about that piece of shit coming after you. You’ll be free to live the life you want. You also now have several older brothers to watch out for you. Even though they’ll never take the place of Cooper.”
“No one ever could, but I appreciate it all the same.”
It’s not lost on me how odd it is to be sitting here and not wanting to crawl out of my skin being around the club I blamed for so long. I also didn't know the details surrounding Cooper’s death—or that they exacted revenge for it. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings. I imagine Cooper looking down at me and saying, ‘See, I told you so,’ or something otherwise annoying like any older brother would. It’s also not lost on me how I feel so comfortable here surrounded by people who knew and loved my brother, people who thought of him as family. God, I wasted so much time being so damn mad at them. I didn’t allow myself to have this, to be able to grieve with them, to be around people who loved him. I may not have plans of sticking around, but to know there are people in this world other than me who loved my brother as their own brings me a comfort I didn’t know I needed.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.” I reach over and cover Lucy’s hand with mine, giving it a light squeeze before releasing it.
Lucy smiles, and it's as though the rest of the room lets out a collective sigh of relief.
“Now, how about after dinner, we play a game of pool?”
Charlie groans and I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”
The next day, Harper and I are sitting out behind the clubhouse, drinking a cup of coffee and enjoying the chillier weather. That’s not something either of us are used to. One of the guys gave us sweatshirts. The clothes we came here with aren’t exactly made for cooler weather.
“Cillian comes back today,” Harper says as though I needed the reminder.
It was all I could do last night to not text him after Ozzy gave Harper and me new phones. Each is programmed with Cillian’s number—and Ozzy’s. Charlie and Lucy also put their numbers in my phone. Hopefully when all this is over, Cillian can transfer my contacts from my old phone onto the new one. There are phone numbers in there that aren’t exactly publicly listed.
“Yup,” I reply before taking a sip of coffee and looking out at the property that spreads as far as the eye can see. This place is so out of the way, and from what Lucy was saying, they recently acquired a farm that butted up to their property. I don’t know how many acres they own, but it’s enough to have an outdoor shooting range and not have to worry about nosy neighbors in any direction.
“Any thoughts on what you're going to say to him?”
I shrug.
“Wow. You’re really forthcoming today.” Harper smirks and turns her attention to the expanse of nothing we’re looking at. Usually when we share a cup of coffee in the morning or afternoon when we roll out of bed, there are noises of other families in their houses or in their yards, sounds of life around us. It’s so damn quiet out here. It’s as though if I say anything, it will disturb the peace of where we are. But Harper is apparently in an uncharacteristically pushy mood this morning. Not that I’m surprised. She knows I can stew in the unknown or hard things for far too long and usually, she lets me. Guess that’s over.
“There really isn’t much to say, Harpy. We came to a truce. He felt bad for fucking me and being a complete asshole, and I felt bad for fucking him over in New Orleans…even though I kind of didn’t.”
Harper shoots me a look with her lips pursed and brow quirked in that, What the hell are you going on about? look she does so well.
“Well, it’s not like he wanted a cut of anything. And he knew where I lived, so he was able to find his car. I even left the keys in there for him.”
“Do you actually believe half the bullshit you say?”
I bark out a laugh at her bluntness, but I’m far from surprised by it. “Not really, no.”
“Thank God because I was not about to cosign that load of garbage.”
A loud sigh escapes as I pull my feet onto the chair and wrap my arms around my thighs. “The fact is, I never planned to stay in New Orleans for the rest of my life, but to get to where I wanted to be, it was the best choice for my…profession.”
“I don’t know that I would have considered pickpocketing a profession.”
“Don’t be a judgmental bitch.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying I wouldn't reference it as a profession. It’s not like it came with benefits or a retirement.”
“No, I have my retirement in a bag under the bed in my room.”
Thankfully, all the rooms in the clubhouse come with a key. It would get really awkward carrying a bag full of stolen jewels everywhere with me.
“Cillian and I were never endgame. I wasn’t looking for anything long term. And he was…well, he was Cillian.”
“What does that mean?”
“Irresistibly charming without meaning to be. A gentleman and a criminal. The master of orgasms. Take your pick.”
Harper lets out a tinkling laugh. “I’ll take the first two. You can keep the last.”
I smile in her direction, but it’s hollow. When I left the first time, I never expected to see him again. I was lonely and missed him a lot more than I expected, but there was so much anger. It was easy to ignore the pit in my chest left by his absence. It’s harder now, though. And I hate that.
“If he’s all those things, why don’t you tell him?”
“Because I have a plan and it doesn’t include living in Boston. Besides, he may have forgiven me, but he’s a long way from trusting me.”
“Seems to me the distrust you have toward each other is because of a misunderstanding and you handling it horribly wrong.”
I can’t exactly argue with that.
“I’m pretty sure he was going to tell me he loved me that night he rescued us.”
“And you’re just now telling me this? You should have led with that, my friend. What did he say?”
“We were fighting, I was pissed and about to leave, and he was about to say it, but I tried to move past him then he grabbed me and…unfortunately, you heard the rest.”
“I don’t get it. How did you end up back in our room that night then?”
“Because he was a complete asshole afterward. I don’t know what changed between him giving me the best orgasm of my life then getting cleaned up to him treating me like I meant nothing to him. Hell, less than nothing.”
“Did you say anything about him dropping the L word or even acknowledge it in any way?”
“Not exactly,” I reply.
“Nova…”
“No. I didn’t. But he didn’t give me a chance before his personality pulled a one-eighty, and he was back to being angry with me. And now we’re here, and neither of us has brought it up.”
“Jesus, you both are shit at communication,” Harper says under her breath. “Do you feel the same about him? Isn’t this something you can work through together? When I saw you two at Geraldine’s, it was like the man had stars in his eyes every time he looked at you or you opened your mouth to spout off some random fact. And you looked at him the same, Nova. You can’t deny that.”
“Doesn’t matter. Men like Cillian aren’t quick to forgive and forget.”
“You never know. You just have to prove he can trust you again.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
“By staying. Not running.”
I usually love my best friend’s optimism, but she’s missing the mark on this one.
“I’m not running. I’m moving on with my life. I want to find a little beach bar and spend my days in the sun and my nights laughing with regulars and creating a happy, stress-free life. Doesn’t that sound better than working at Geraldine’s?”
“I like Geraldine's. And…I kind of talked to Damon last night.”
Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow with the what the hell are you talking about expression on my face.
“I called to tell him I had a family emergency and lost my phone. That’s why I didn’t call. We got to talking for a while, and he opened up about some stuff. Mostly about why he was so closed off when we were together. I don’t know, hearing his voice and his laugh, it reminded me of when we first started dating. Before he started acting like an asshole, and before I wanted someone more flashy and exciting. I’ve firmly decided that shit is overrated. As soon as it’s safe and this is over, I’m going back to New Orleans.”
“And you get on me for burying the lead. Are you two getting back together?”
Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I want to give it a shot. Shit changed for me in that room when none of us knew what was going to happen. I know you think Damon is a boring stick in the mud, but I think he’s…steady. And I need that more than a flashy car or some guy with a sexy East Coast accent.” She shakes her head. ”God, I was so damn stupid to date that piece of shit.”
I reach over and rest my hand on her arm. “No, Harper. He was good at fooling you. Jesus, even I had no idea what a monster he was under the smooth exterior, and I pride myself on being a great judge of character.”
“What about Cillian’s character?” she asks.
I think about her question for a moment. “He’s a good man. But our timing is off. And I don’t think we can put it right.”
The back door opens, startling us out of our conversation. I look over and the man himself steps on the patio in a devastating black suit, looking deliciously sexy—and every inch the mob lieutenant he is.
He looks toward the two of us and nods. “I wanted you to know I’m back and brought some people with me. This will be over by morning.”