Chapter 9
9
Anchor
I bounce my knee, my eyes going to the clock every five minutes, my palms beginning to sweat as the brothers argue over each other, nothing being resolved while my prez sits back, letting it happen because he knows I’m about to snap, meaning my VP status will come in to play, something I don’t often do when Steal is around but he knows I’ll get the job done.
I look at the clock again and silently groan. Fuck, Heaven is going to kill me….
It’s been three days since I begged her to go to couples therapy with me, and with the help of Acid, Dr. Larsa agreed to meet with us now despite being booked up.
She’s the same person Acid and Perrie go to and is fully aware of club life. Her father is Fire, the Rebels MC brother, and she’s also an old lady to Viking, who runs the fight club in Brooklyn.
And I’m late….
In my defense, I had no idea Steal was going to call an emergency fucking church, and neither did he until complaints came flooding in this morning.
“Hang in there, brother,” Acid whispers beside me, and I shake my head. I want to make things right, to bring my wife home where she belongs, which I can’t fucking do if I’m stuck here with brothers talking over each other instead of getting the job done.
“Okay!” I shout, quieting everyone, their eyes coming my way in shock. Steal smirks, also knowing what today is, and I glare his way before I command, “Pitbull, Piston, go through the cameras and see which clubwhores cleaned the brother’s rooms, and search their belongings, along with the prospects’; they are under suspicion. Acid, Cannon, get all the fucking women and prospects in the common room, give them a chance to own up to stealing shit out of the brother’s room, and if they don’t, hold them in the common room until Piston and Pitbull can find the evidence and make an example of them.”
Steal nods and looks around the table, the brothers also nodding, and I look at my prez and demand, “Bang the fucking gavel.”
He chuckles and does as I ask, and I quickly stand, knocking my chair over. Steal and Acid laugh while the brothers watch me with confusion.
Fuck, they are going to be pissed when they find out I’m a married man with a kid.
Rushing out of church, John, our new prospect, jumps in shock, and I roll my eyes, grab my phone out of the box, and run to the door.
“Anchor?” I hear my Callie shout, and I shout back, “I can’t talk; I’m running late!”
“Fuck,” I curse as I jump off my bike and run to the white building.
Fucking New York traffic sucks….
I bang into the waiting room, the receptionist jumping, and I put my hand up in apology and state, “I’m running late. Can you tell me which room is Dr. Larsa’s, please?”
The woman’s mouth hangs open, her brown eyes wide, seeing my cut. She quickly points at the first door on the right, and I storm over to it.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the white door until I hear, “Come in," and walk in but wince, seeing the anger in my wife’s eyes.
“Anchor, I presume?” a woman asks, taking my attention, and I clear my throat.
A woman sitting on a large chair, wearing a blouse and slacks, her brown hair down, her green eyes hard, glares at me.
Fuck….
“Yeah, sorry,” I mumble and quickly sit on the brown couch next to Heaven, who looks amazing in her jeans, tank top, and flannel. “Steal called an emergency church, Angel, I’m sorry,” I say, and she looks my way with a frown.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, and I sigh, my eyes going to the therapist, who raises a brow, and I know I have to say something.
“Some things have gone missing from the brothers' rooms, including their old ladies' jewelry and clothes." Heaven's eyes widen. “We’re now looking into it, or well, Piston and Pitbull are, to see which clubwhore or prospect has been stealing.”
She nods and mumbles thoughtfully, “Maybe have them check the old ladies as well. All it takes is one scorned woman, hurt because her man can’t keep it in his pants. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’re trying to set the clubwhores up, and not all of them are bitches like Ginger.”
My mouth goes dry at her words, but I get my phone and quickly bring up Steal’s name, knowing she’s most likely right.
Five brothers, despite having old ladies, still screw the clubwhores. I’m just lucky my wife never had an urge for revenge; she just cut me off emotionally.
“Brother, shouldn’t you be in therapy right now?” he answers, and Heaven snorts, hearing him.
“He is, but he was twenty minutes late,” she says loudly so he can hear, making him laugh and I half smile, loving that they have such a good bond.
“What’s going on, brother? Do you need my kidnapping expertise?” Steal asks, and Heaven narrows her eyes while our therapist tries not to laugh.
It’s no secret what Steal did with Cassidy, especially with the Rebels MC. Cassidy, being the amazing doctor she is, fixes up the fighters at The Fight.
“Uh, no, thanks. Heaven said something. Check the old ladies in the cameras,” I say.
He sighs, replying, “Fuck me, she thinks we could have a scorned woman on our hands, trying to set the clubwhores up?”
“It’s what I should have done,” Heaven mumbles and the therapist leans forward, high-fiving her. I raise a brow, but Dr. Larsa shrugs, and I know I’m going to get my ass handed to me, but maybe this is what Heaven and I need to get back to us—well not the old us, because the old me was a fucking immature idiot.
“Yeah. Have Piston look at everyone,” I reply.
Steal agrees before he hangs up, and I sigh, leaning back on the couch. I lift my left arm and place it behind my girl, my fingers going straight to her white blonde hair curled down her back, the softness easing me.
“Okay, now that you are both here,” Dr. Larsa says pointedly to me, and I give her a sheepish smile. She looks between Heaven and me and asks, “Why don’t you tell me what brought you here?”
I look down for a moment, bracing myself to explain what I did, but my wife, not willing to be meek, states, “We’re here because ten years ago on our first wedding anniversary, two months after I gave birth to our son, my husband fucked my high school bully.”
I whip my head her way in shock, my mouth opening a little. What the fuck does she mean, high school bully?
Heaven ignores me and says, “He wanted me to come to the clubhouse to celebrate him patching in, forgetting our anniversary when we had originally planned to stay in. I was barely sleeping, my breasts hurt like mad, I smelled bad, and all he cared about was himself, and yet he tried to turn it around on me like I was the selfish one after pushing his child out of a hole the size of a pea.”
I swallow hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat at the resentment sloughing off her in waves.
Dr. Larsa asks, “And how did you find out?”
Heaven huffs. “I hated that we argued. I was hormonal and emotional, and all I wanted was a cuddle from my husband, so I left our two-month-old for the first time with a fourteen-year-old sitter, and went to the clubhouse. A brother hit on me, not knowing Travis was even married.” I flinch.
That was the day I was going to tell the brothers about us….
Heaven continues, “He told me that if I wasn’t into threesomes, then I had to wait; then he showed me which room was Travis’s and, surprise-surprise, my husband was screwing the girl who bullied me for the last year of my high school, pleasure on his face, while he was grunting about how sex hadn’t felt that good in ages.”
I hear the tears in my girl’s voice, but I don’t look at her, too fucking ashamed of my actions, even after all these years.
“Anchor, were you aware the girl you cheated with was her high school bully?” Dr. Larsa asks, and I shake my head.
Heaven adds, “I never told him. I didn’t want him involved in the petty drama she was causing, knowing he loved me. It didn’t matter what she was doing because, at the end of the day, I went home to him—until he did what he did anyway.” Heaven pauses for a moment before she says, “I filed for divorce that same night I caught him, and ever since, he refuses to sign. Whenever we see a judge, my petition is denied.”
I add, “I love my wife. I made a huge mistake and lost her trust, but I know she loves me, and I know we can have a future together.”
Dr. Larsa nods and then reminds me, “But she doesn’t want a future; she continues to petition for a divorce.”
I scowl and snap, “She does. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have accepted me in her bed a few times a month for ten years, but something has been holding her back. I know she still sees what I did in her mind, still hears my words, and despite that, she still has the look of love in her eyes when she looks at me. Over the years, the pain has slowly started to fade but she’s still pushing me away.”
Dr. Larsa writes something down, then looks at my wife and asks, “We started talking a little about your hesitation with accepting your marriage before Anchor arrived. Can you explain what is holding you back? I can see it’s not the emotional pain he put you through with his decisions, but more mental. What clicks in your head to continue down the divorce route?”
I look at my wife and see her looking down at her hands on her lap, and I hold my breath, waiting.
“Mainly because of my mother,” she admits after a few seconds of silence, and my mouth parts in shock. Heaven keeps her eyes on the doctor as she continues, “Growing up, my mom had a revolving door of men, and had a certain outlook on life where they were concerned.”
“Explain your childhood for me,” Dr. Larsa asks gently.
Heaven takes a deep breath before stating, “It sucked,” shocking me.
She’s never told me much about her childhood, only that her mom dated a lot and forced her to move around.
“I love my mom, I do. You only get one and have to cherish her, but she was selfish and lazy. She wanted to be waited on hand and foot, always relying on a man to keep the clothes on our backs or the food in our stomachs. When my father cheated on her and left with his mistress, she hung onto man after man. She didn’t care what they looked like or how old they were as long as they paid her bills, but as soon as they strayed or ended things, instead of acting like a normal person during a breakup, she’d force me to pack my stuff up after emptying their wallets. We moved so many times, I lost count of how many homes I lived in growing up or how many schools I had to attend.”
“And how did you manage school?” the doctor asks, and my girl shrugs.
“I ended up doing a lot of online schoolwork, so I didn’t get behind, and most of the time, the teachers didn’t even realize that I had the grades to skip their classes. When I first met Travis, the math teacher propositioned me, saying he’d help me pass his class, not realizing I was only one test away from passing it anyway, meaning I didn’t require it my senior year.”
I tense in my seat, and anger courses through me, but I keep quiet as Heaven continues, “Growing up, I was taught men are pigs; Mom drilled it into me, and at times, I believed her, especially when her ‘boyfriends’ hit on me or tried to assault me.”
Mother— My anger builds.
I know Heaven can feel it, but she ignores me, continuing to talk to the therapist. “But then I met Travis and, God, when I locked eyes with him, my heart raced, my palms sweated, and I knew that he would become my universe, and that scared me, so I walked away.” I look at Heaven to see a small smile on her face. Awe fills me as she says, “But he didn’t give up; he showed me that my mom was wrong. He made me feel special, and when we got married, even though it was at the courthouse and my mom said he’d hurt me and that I was making a mistake, I was so happy because he gave me joy, hope, and undying love….”
Tears fall from her captivating eyes, and I use everything in me not to touch her, Dr. Larsa silently telling me no, shaking her head.
“I thought I won the jackpot, that I was the luckiest girl in the world. He was strong, and kind; he was my savior that continued to give me butterflies with just one look or a gentle touch, but when I told him I was pregnant, I started to doubt him.” I frown in confusion because I never saw any doubt coming from her back then, but dread fills me as she says, “He wasn’t happy. I overheard him on the phone to someone, telling them his sex life was over, that he wasn’t ready for a family…and the word ‘termination’ came up….”
Fuck, I was talking to my dad, who suggested she get a termination. I didn’t realize she overheard me.
“But I pushed it back. I understood he was scared because I was too, which is why I never fought him when he told me I had to quit college so he could continue his studies for the club. It’s why I started working nights to support us, the club not paying much to prospects.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck did I do? “And then he started distancing himself from me. Honestly, when I caught him cheating, I did think maybe it wasn’t the first time; I still think that, mainly with the help of my mother, who, day in and day out, speaks in my ear, ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater,’ that he’ll hurt me again, that men are all the same. I believed her, I still do….”
I slump back on the couch, my eyes tearing up.
I never knew how shitty her childhood was, I never realized how much of an impact her mom had on her in the years we’ve been a part, and I never realized how much doubt I put in her head when I was busy with the club, never home. She couldn’t sit at the clubhouse because no one knew she existed, and I had no excuse to give the brothers to cut my hours.
I lock eyes with the doctor, and instantly, I know she’s thinking the same as me.
If I want my wife back, I have a very big uphill battle to win her over because we’re not just talking about what I did now; we’re talking about the trauma her mother put her through and the doubts I helped escalate because I put my club first, wanting to prove myself to my dad.
I fucked up more than I realized, hurt her more than I could ever imagine, and unknowingly forced her to doubt me. I know it’ll be tough, but I’m willing to fight for the both of us until she’s ready to fight for me, I just have to ensure her mother doesn’t see her much, which means being around for Micha more and at the club less, which I know Steal will understand. Also, I have to ensure my mother and all her bullshit stays the hell away from her as well.