23. Roxie
Twenty Three
Roxie
H e left.
I remind myself he does it for a reason. He doesn’t want to say or do something he’ll regret and can’t take back. Blah, blah, blah. He also doesn’t know how to process what he feels because he’s never had to do that for someone before. He’s been on his own, working the way he feels is best for him. I get that opening yourself up to someone is new and challenging to navigate sometimes. But it still fucking sucks that he walked out the door.
It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. So is he. Time. That’s all either of you need right now. Time.
My phone ringing brings me to the present. I find it on the couch cushion; it must have fallen out of my pocket, and I answer when I see my mom’s name.
“Hey.”
“Roxie, what the hell happened? I got a text from Mimic saying you’re gonna need someone to talk to.”
“Uh,” and as much as I didn’t want to, I sniffled, no longer allowing myself the ability to lie about it. “Yeah. Probably.”
“What happened?”
“He asked about Neil.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, he didn’t ask about him specifically. He asked about my past. He thinks Dad, Angel, and Omen are hiding something from him. Which I can’t blame him for feeling that way because he knows nothing about my entire past!”
“Baby,” she sighs, and I can picture her shaking her head, “why didn’t you just tell him?”
“Because if I tell him everything, I tell him everything . He’ll learn about everything that happened in Colorado, along with people’s stories I don’t have the right to tell.”
“Sweetheart, I love that you want to protect Manda and everyone else, but Mimic loves you. He wants to know why you are the way you are. Your past is a large part of why you’re one of the strongest people in this world. You’ve pushed past so much you never should have had to overcome. And frankly, him finding out about what happened in Colorado isn’t a bad thing.”
“But that’s not up to us, mom. That’s up to Dad if he wants to tell his members what went down.”
“I hate this fucking club shit sometimes.”
We go back and forth for a while, and unfortunately, I don’t feel any better. I have no idea if I handled this the way I should have or not.
“Wait. Go back.”
“Um, to what? We’ve been talking for a while now,” she laughs.
“Yeah, yeah. But anyway, you said he loves me.”
“Roxie, are you okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“One, I said that about thirty minutes ago, and you’re just now realizing it.”
“And two?”
“There is no two. It’s just that.”
“Well, you said, you know what? It doesn’t matter. But yes, I’m now coming back to that. You said he loves me.” The same thing Max told me twice before he left. He’s never told me before that he loves me. Tonight, he said it and kissed me like he meant it before he walked out the door. And now, my mom is telling me he loves me too. Am I so stupid I can’t see it? Or am I refusing to believe it? And how must he be feeling because I didn’t register until right fucking now that he told me he loves me.
“Roxie, I’ve known he was in love with you for years.”
“How,” I whisper in disbelief.
“All I had to do was look.”
* * *
A few days have passed since I learned Max loves me, too. I haven’t told him yet that I love him either because while I’ve seen him, he’s been passed out. Club business is my dad’s fancy way of saying he isn’t going to tell me what happened to him, even though it’s clear my dad kicked his ass. I’ve done what I can to care for him, but I can’t stop working. I need to get this problem solved once and for all.
I’ve been waiting for him to come back. Because I know he’s okay, I’m giving him the space he needs. Hopefully, he’ll stop sleeping all day and be able to make his way home.
The shop door chimes, and I turn to see who’s here.
“Hi, welcome to—oh. Hey, Mark.”
Mark smiles as he walks up to my station. “Hey, Roxie. I realized I never made my next appointment. If you have time now, I’d love to sit with you, but if not, I’d really like to get in the books.”
“Yeah, sure.”
An uneasy feeling comes over me as he smiles at me. I pulled open my schedule because even though I know I don’t have anything for today, I wanted to make it seem like I did. There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on, and while I know I should finish the piece, there’s a nagging feeling at the back of my mind telling me to run.
“Thanks. I’m really happy with the work you’ve finished so far, and I can’t wait to see it completed.”
I smile at him before I decide to bite the bullet. “Looks like I had a cancellation. Let’s get ya in the chair, yeah?”
“Hell yeah!”
He’s been in the chair for almost two hours when Ink walks into the shop.
“Hey, Ink.”
“Hey, Roxie,” he smiles as he walks up to see what I’m working on. It’s a full sleeve on his upper thigh. I was dumb to think I would finish it in the first session, but I was too worried about everything; I was lying to myself to make myself feel better. Honestly, I owe him at least one more session before I don’t have to see him again. “Are you almost ready to head out?”
I give Ink a confused look before the bell dings. “Oh, shit, I completely forgot. It wasn’t on my calendar.”
“Is something wrong?” Mark asked, his interest suddenly peaked.
“Just an appointment I have to get to. My house burned down, and I have to go talk to the fire chief.”
“Oh. Fuck. That’s… I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him as I clean him up before cleaning up my workstation. “I’m sorry I have to cut our time short. I really did forget.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll just come back.”
He gives me a smile, and I’m sure he means for it to be sincere, but it makes my skin crawl.
Twenty minutes later, Ink and I are heading back to my house. I watch the mirrors and notice a car following us the entire way. I can’t see the driver as they’re a couple of cars back, but I know they’re on us. I want to tell Ink, but I also think I may be overreacting because of where we’re headed. I force myself to breathe and close my eyes the rest of the way. I know watching this car’s every move is only going to make me panic. Plus, who in their right mind would try to do something with Ink and the Fire Chief standing right next to me?
We pull up to the house and I no longer see the car when I check the mirrors. With a sigh of relief, I get out and make my way to the charred remains of the house I worked so hard for.
“Hey there,” I say as I come up to the man I assume is the Fire Chief. “I’m Roxie.” I hold out my hand when he turns to face me.
“Chief Franklin. It’s nice to meet you, although I’m sorry we have to meet.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Well, let’s get right down to it. We found remains of the Molotov cocktail that was thrown through your window. Gasoline-soaked cotton was all it took. Judging by the size of the base of the bottle, they threw a significant amount into your house. You wouldn’t have been able to stop it. I’m sorry.”
I can’t help the tear that escapes. I hear Ink tell me he’s sorry, too, but his voice isn’t the one I want to hear. I want Max. I need him. But I’m also so upset with everything that’s happened between us. I need to get away, but I can’t do that until we’re done here.
“Thanks, Chief Franklin. I appreciate the work you and your team did to contain the house and find out what happened.” I shake his hand again, and he lets me know if I need anything, I can reach out.
“Are you ready to go, Roxie?”
I look around one more time and turn my way back. My steps falter when I see Mark at the end of the street.
* * *
I’m doing nothing but punishing myself when I go and see him day after day. He’s so wrapped up in his head that it’s as if he doesn’t even know I’m there. But I can’t stay away from him.
It’s also odd because I feel some guilt about it, but at the same time, he needs to find a new way to process the big things. Picking a fight with my dad while drunk and then continuing the same bender is not the way to handle things. Why am I putting myself through this?
Because you love him and because he was never taught normal coping skills.
Ugh, I hate it when I’m right when I argue with myself. In instances like this, I would go for a bottle of wine and forget my troubles in a good book, but the thought of anything with alcohol turns my stomach currently.
Ice cream is the true answer right now. I make a quick decision and turn left instead of right, taking me away from Max’s house and toward the nearest store. I pull into the near-deserted lot, and a wave of unease hits me. It’s still daylight, and we are beside a busy street. I shouldn’t feel this off-kilter. Then I hear the comforting sound of a motorcycle rumbling before it pulls in beside me. Duck pulls his helmet off in a very flamboyant flourish, then waits for me to get out of the car.
“Trying to ditch me with that fancy maneuvering? I feel offended, Roxie.” Duck feigns hurt, placing his hands over his heart.
“You are like an unwanted wart, Duck. Even if I wanted to lose you, you would keep showing up.” I pat his shoulder as I walk past him into the store. “I thought Kraken was on duty today?” I make conversation, grabbing a basket. I feel the next few days to weeks will call for a lot of ice cream.
“Gotta keep everyone on their toes. Who knows who is gonna be around these days? But be safe in the knowledge that someone will always have your ass…. Back. I meant back.” Duck says, shaking his head with a smile.
“Oh, talking about ass means you have been getting some. Time to share!” I poke at him while looking for all the best ice cream flavors.
“I see you’re collecting them all,” a familiar voice snaps me from my task. I see Mark walking up the aisle with a smirk on his lips.
“I mean, we are like the potato chips. Betcha can’t have just one. Or wait, is it like that pocket monster game? Gotta have ‘em all? I dunno, either way, who are you to yuck her yum?” Duck comes after him with a joking demeanor, but I know a protective and rabid dog is ready to pounce under that goofy facade.
“Down, my dude. I’m sorry, I’m just a client and thought she was with some other dude, or was it Angel? I see you are busy. I’ll see you another time, Roxie.” Mark says with a friendly smile as he leaves.
I shake off the incident, get the last of my ice cream, and then high-tail it out of the store. I still feel uneasy, but Duck is super close by with a possessive arm over my shoulders.
I know it was to keep me close so his attention could be looking about, but it still feels wrong. My heart breaks a little more each time I think about Max and the time we’re missing together. I just want him to figure out that this isn’t about him or me, this is about people I am trying to protect.
* * *
“I am tired of being cooped up. Can I go for a run?” I ask Burrito, who is lounging on Max’s couch watching a hockey game.
“Do you even run?” He shoots me a sideways look.
“I could! But it’s boring being cooped up. Please just come for a run with me. I will go slow just for you.” I beg him, trying to give him the big puppy dog eyes.
“Not gonna work, Princess. But good try.” He takes a long pull of the water bottle in his hand.
“You are no fun!” I pout, really acting like the petulant child I feel like.
I get up and head to the bedroom. The one that still hasn’t been organized and cleaned. The dresser still sits empty, and my whole world is still in bags. How can I set up in a room we are supposed to share when I don’t know what the future holds for us right now? I lean against the door frame and can’t bring myself to do anything more than sleep in this room. Even then, it’s hard and strange. His smell is all over the place; his pillow that I hold most nights has started to smell more like me than him these past few days.
I see my new runners peeking out the closet door, and I just say fuck it. What is the worst that can happen while I run, well, attempt to run? I won’t even put earbuds in, and my phone will have the location tracker on. I need to do something with this nervous energy.
I change fast and then bolt out the front door before Burrito can even think. I hear him call after me as I go out the door and down the block. I might have overestimated my endurance. I am sure I only made it halfway down the block before I started to feel my lungs and joints burn with the exertion they’re not used to. I push through it all, letting the burn make me feel something other than emotional hurt. I force myself to go hard until I make another turn down another block. I hear the rumble of the bike coming up fast behind me, so I feel safe enough to slow my pace and drop to the grass beside me, looking over at the park. Gulping in as much air as I can, I watch the kids playing and running around.
“You know I heard you were trouble,” Burrito calls out from where he pulled his bike over. “But here, when I get to hang out with you, it’s been nice and simple. It had me thinking all the other brothers are liars, and you just like busting their balls. Then you go and run out the front fucking door.”
I know he is still rambling and telling me off, but my vision is honed in on a person sitting by a tree. His hair and mannerisms at the park make him seem like he doesn’t belong. When he turns, I see it’s Mark.
“What the fuck?” I mumble. Sitting up, I turn to Burrito, who is still talking a mile a minute, mad I made him spill water all over himself when I booked it out the door. I will admit it does look like he pissed his pants.
Shaking my head, I look back to where I saw Mark, and he’s gone. This is starting to get creepy.
* * *
“Daddy!” I wrap my arms around my dad from behind, startling him a bit.
“No, I will not tell the brothers to leave you to your own devices.” He tells me with humor in his voice.
“That’s not what I wanted. Well, it is, but I get it. I am getting my way a little with the flash sale, so I’ll take it easy on the guys. Kinda,” I smile sweetly when he turns to face me. “See, I can be reasonable.” I bat my eyes at him.
“If I hadn’t raised you, I would believe this act you are putting on here.” My dad waves his hand in my face. I laugh because he is right. “But I asked you to the ranch today because I wanted to spend some time with you—just the two of us. It’s been a while,” he pulls me into a hug.
I love being his daughter because even though we fight like cats and dogs eighty percent of the time, being in his arms makes me feel safe and loved. We talk while doing some work around the ranch, seeing the horses, and watching the guys try and break a new stud colt that Dad just bought. It was nice to just feel normal for a while. But that nagging hurt is still in my heart about Max and him hiding from all his emotions.
“Let’s go into town for a while. Get some lunch, just me and you.” Dad suggests opening the creaky door of his favorite farm truck. I smile, remembering the smile on his face when he bought it. It’s been so long since we rode in it, just the two of us, even before the fight that didn’t seem to have an end.
“It’s the Farmer Fred truck.” I laugh, sliding onto the bench seat, Dad slamming the door behind me.
The drive into town is nice and quiet, not tense. There is ease in the air—almost like there’s not a psycho trying to kill me. Dad and I have found peace between me growing up and making my own adult decisions, and I am not worrying about my boyfriend giving himself alcohol poisoning. The Diner holds many memories of when we first moved here. First dates in town, and the time Angel punched out Max for a necklace. The thought has me playing with the heart-shaped lock, remembering everything Max told me about his life and what he had been through before landing here.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dad asks me after handing the menus back to the waitress.
“Just thinking about everything going on, and Mimic.” I wrap the lock in my hand and hold it to my chest, feeling him close with the small act.
“How is he doing? He hasn’t been at the farm for a while. Omen tells me you have been to see him.” Dad acts like he doesn’t know what’s going on with Mimic, but I know him better than that. I’ll play along because maybe Dad has more insight into where Mimic’s head is.
“I wouldn’t know. Well, I know how he is physically, but mentally and emotionally, I am in the dark. I have seen him a few times, but he isn’t up for talking.” I lean back in the booth and cross my arms, looking out the window.
“Ew, didn’t need to think about that.” Dad pretends to gag, causing a few less-than-enthused stares from the people around us.
“Not like that. He has been passed out drunk. So I have been nursing the battle wounds he seems to have accrued.” I shoot him an unimpressed look.
“Give him time, Roxanne. Men like us we’re built differently. We hide who we are and force down how we feel because of the life we’ve lived. Mimic isn’t any different. I know growing up wasn’t easy for you, but you’ve had a support system your whole life. You’ve been surrounded by people who love you. While I don’t know everything about Mimic, I do know that he processes the same way I, and especially your uncle JJ, do. It’s okay if you decide he isn’t for you, but I can promise you, if you give him the time he needs to get his shit right, you’re never going to find a man more loyal.” I think about what he is telling me, but I’m still hung up on the fact that he leaves when his emotions get too much. “I see the wheels turning, Roxanne. Running is easiest because it frees your mind from the fear you have to face. In this instance, he’s terrified he’s going to lose you. The last thing he wants is to hurt you. Sadly, it’s a catch-22 because it hurts that he’s gone, but he needs to find mental clarity to be the best for you. Ask your Aunt Bri; she’d be able to give you firsthand experience with it. If you need it, but I don’t think you do. Something tells me you’re going to see him soon.” This conversation got really heavy, and I felt the need to break the tension to enjoy my time with Dad.
“Well, if we work things out, I’m going to need you to promise me something,” I say, leaning back toward him, resting my arms on the table.
“Anything.”
“Can you please stop beating up the man I can see myself marrying?”
“Listen, I said we’re changing, but that is something that will never go away. I will defend you until the day I die. No matter who it is. But, yes, I can stop…for now.”
“Dad!” I exclaim, laughing at him and his insanely protective side, just like Max.
I have found a man like my father.
“Okay, okay, yes. I’m sorry about that, and I’ll talk with him at some point. I admit it’s hard to see reason when it involves you kids or your mother. But marry? Really?” It’s Dad’s turn to lean back in the booth and look away into space. It’s like it finally hit him that I grew up and am ready to have someone else take care of me.
“It’s like how you knew when you met Mom. He’s to me what she’s to you. I’m just not gonna have twelve kids because I’ll have zero.” I laugh, then movement at the window catches my eye, and I stop. Mark is running across the street away from the diner and jumping in a car I’ve seen around more than once. “Holy shit,” I mutter when clarity hits me.
“What?” Dad’s hackles raise, and he is on red alert. He turns to see the car pull away, and we both follow it with our eyes until it’s out of sight.
“I know who is stalking me,” I mutter.