Chapter 17 #2
He chuckles, tossing his napkin on the table. “Nah, it’s cool. Are you coming back to the compound, then?”
I shake my head. “Gonna stay at the apartment above the shop tonight. I have a customer coming in at the ass-crack of dawn that wants something appraised. If I stay there, I don’t have to get up so fucking early.” The lie slips off my tongue with ease, just like all the others have lately.
“Makes sense. You’re coming to the fight on Friday, though, right?”
“Yeah. I owe G a round in the ring anyway.”
“Oh shit, what did you do to piss him off? G only fights when he’s in a mood.”
“I exist. I think that’s enough right now.”
He winces. “He’s still pissed about what went down with Legs, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“I get him feeling a certain way. I won’t lie, man. We all did when we heard what happened, but enough is enough. You’re a brother, and what went on between you and Legs is none of our business. He wouldn’t like it if you got tangled up with him every time he has issues with Amity.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “I appreciate the gesture, man, I do, but we both know I fucked up. You think G would ever speak to Amity the way I did to Legs?”
He doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he sighs. “No, but then Amity would just shoot him in the face, so that’s a pretty big deterrent.”
I snort at that. He’s not wrong. Amity is not gun-shy.
He taps his fingers against the table as he considers what he says next. “Okay, so I can see you’ve had an epiphany of sorts. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“Not a damn clue. If I had it all figured out, you think I’d be sitting here with you?”
“If I had feelings, that would hurt,” he teases.
I rub my hands over my face as I think about it.
He taps his fingers on the table. “Look, I’m not going to pretend to be an expert here. We all know my idea of a date is bending a bunny over the pool table. But I figure I can’t make this any worse than you have.”
“Wow, your pep talk has me reaching for a noose,” I deadpan.
“Just wait. I’m getting to the uplifting part.”
“By all means, fucking continue then, oh wise one.”
He grins, leaning back and cracking his knuckles. “Alright, before you fuck with her head anymore, you’ve gotta decide what you want and be one hundred percent sure. No jokes here, Midas. If you fuck this up again, you can kiss her ass goodbye because she’ll be gone.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
He shrugs. “I’ve given up trying to figure out what’s going on inside your head. Anyway, my point is don’t rush into this. Stew on it a little. She’s been gone three months now. A few more weeks won’t hurt.”
I sigh, leaning my elbows on the table. “Fine. I’ll make sure I have all my fucking ducks in a row first. Happy?”
“Ecstatic. Then, after you decide to man up—”
I scowl at him, but he just laughs. I wait until he’s done, but his face turns serious before I can say anything. “You said it yourself. You fucked up. That means it’s on you to apologize.”
I open my mouth to tell him I have, but then snap it shut. Of course, I haven’t apologized. When would I have done that? Last night was the first night I’ve been close enough to speak to her since the day she left.
“Shit.”
“Yup. You better be willing to fall on that sword because a whole club of men are ready to run you through with it if you hurt her again.”
The trouble is, I’m not sure there’s a way to unpack all our issues without us hurting each other.
I might want to fix what’s broken between us, but I still don’t know what that will look like.
The problems that kept us apart are still there, more so now with a baby on the way.
And I don’t want to spend time breaking her down to convince her to give me another shot, just for my resentment to grow toward her when the baby is born.
As much as I hate to admit it, Circus is right.
I need to figure out what I want before I push for something I’m not sure I can handle.
I do know I can’t let her walk out of my life forever.
If the most we can be is friends, then I’ll still be the luckiest fucker on the planet.
“I can hear you thinking and is that…” he sniffs before nodding. “Yep, I can definitely smell smoke.”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles as I throw some cash down on the table. He follows suit as I stand up and shove my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans.
“You wanna talk about the elephant in the room?”
“If this is a dick joke and you’re about to tell me the measurements of your trunk, I will cut you.”
He roars with laughter as I head outside and make my way over to my bike. I straddle it and grab my helmet, but I don’t put it on just yet. I wait as Circus jogs over and grabs his own helmet.
“I was talking about the baby, asshole.”
I blow out a deep breath. “I don’t know what to think there. I have no clue who the father is, and without trying to sound like a dick, I don’t know if Legs knows either.”
“Does it matter?” he asks. There is no sarcasm in his question, only curiosity.
“I don’t know.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he shoves his helmet over his head.
“Then that’s where you start. Whatever happens from here on out, Legs is part of a package.
And knowing her, she’ll be a mama bear when it comes to her kiddo.
She might take a lot from you, but she won’t allow you to mess with her baby, so you better decide real fast. Look, I get that this is not ideal but maybe try looking at it from the other side for a minute.
You can’t have kids, Midas. That sucks because I know how much you wanted to be a father, but it takes more than a cum shot to be a dad.
And some of the best parents out there are stepparents.
You know why? Because they aren’t relying on biology, they love those babies because they want to and choose to.
There is not one thing stopping you from co-parenting with whichever brother is the father, except you. ” He swings his arms wide.
“Not all families are related by blood. I mean, look at the MC. Other than Mac and Toot, there isn’t a drop of blood between us. But you’re all my brothers, and I’d take a bullet for each and every one of you.”
He shoves the visor down and covers his face as he revs his engine. I shove my helmet on my head and follow him out of the lot, heading in the direction of home. All the way back, his words move around my head on a loop. When I split from him and head to the shop, I feel something click into place.
I don’t have all the answers, but I do have the beginning of a plan. And right now, that mainly revolves around making Legs not hate me anymore.
I pull up to Legs’s apartment building, parking around the back so she can’t see my truck from her place. I grab my cut off the seat and flip it inside out before climbing out and slipping it on. I pull a hoodie over the top and tug it up to cover my head.
I close the door and walk around to the bed and grab the case, filling it with the other shit I tossed in here before I zip it up and carry it up to Legs’s apartment.
I stop for a second outside her door, but I don’t want to risk her seeing me.
I keep moving to the apartment next door.
I let myself in with the key I snagged last night and then lock the door behind me.
I flip the lights on and take in the dead body on the floor, his head bent at an unnatural angle.
“You know it warms my cold black heart that she might actually get some fucking sleep tonight now you can’t play your shitty music.”
Naturally, he doesn’t answer. I pick him up and carry him into the bathroom, where I toss him into the bathtub.
I fetch the case, opening it up so I can grab what I need.
I use the tarp to line the inside of the case before carrying it into the bathroom.
A glance at my watch shows it’s eleven thirty, so Legs is likely in bed. I need to do this quietly.
“Looks like we’re going old school, my friend,” I mutter to the corpse before grabbing the machete in one hand and the saw in the other.
I eye them both before settling on the machete.
I contemplate taking my hoodie off, but it’s black, same as my jeans and it won’t really matter.
I grab a handful of the dead guy’s hair and swing the machete in a wide arc toward his neck.