Chapter 30
THIRTY
My eyes open to the sound of quacking somewhere in the room, and it takes me a second to remember where I am.
Alder’s room at the clubhouse is dark from the thick drapes over the windows, but enough light seeps through for me to know it’s late morning.
He’s sprawled on his stomach beside me with his arm slung over my waist, and his hair falling across his face.
But when Wingnut lets out another loud quack, Alder stirs.
“How did he get in here?” he grumbles as he rolls over, squinting towards the floor.
“Caz, probably,” I mutter through a yawn as I rub my face.
Alder turns his head to me with an evil grin. “That means he probably got him good this morning.”
I huff out a laugh as Alder throws the blankets back and strides towards the door, completely naked. I watch his tattooed ass flex with each step he takes, then he whips the door open and yells down the hall as Wingnut waddles out. “Caz, you fucker!”
A startled yelp sounds from the main room, and Alder laughs as he slams the door shut. “Fuck, I love that duck.”
I sit up in bed and watch as he heads for the dresser and digs around for clean clothes.
“We’re meeting with the Sons today,” he says as he pulls on underwear, his voice now low and serious.
Everything in me stills.
“For?” I ask.
The Kings want to keep them out… but the Sons are bigger, more powerful, and used to getting what they want. So I can’t ignore the churning in the pit of my stomach at the thought of this all going wrong. Because if this tips sideways, it won’t just be the province that gets dragged down with them.
Alder sits at the edge of the bed, bracing one arm over my legs. “To gather information,” he says. Then he grimaces. “And not kill them.”
I nod slowly. “Then what?”
“Then we do whatever it takes to keep them out.” He lifts his hand to forcefully hold the side of my face. “But that’s later. When I get home…” his gaze burns as he roughly drags his thumb over my bottom lip, “we fuck.”
A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. “I guess that works.”
His eyes darken, then he gives my face a light slap that draws a breath of laughter out of me before he stands, tossing my clothes onto the bed.
“Come on. I’d bend you over right now to teach you a lesson, but I’ve got a five-hour ride ahead of me, and Kurt gets squirrelly if we’re”—he lifts his fingers in air quotes—“‘late.’”
I pull on my clothes and follow Alder out into the main room of the clubhouse, where Kurt sits at the bar sipping a mug of coffee, and Caz hovers behind it, eyeing Wingnut where he patrols Caz’s exit.
“’Bout fucking time,” Kurt mutters when he sees us.
Alder glances at his bare wrist, then lifts a brow at him. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t realize we were being respectful of our rival’s time.”
Kurt shoots a glare at him, then shifts it to me.
And while it isn’t now warm and kind, at least it’s not loaded with disdain and distrust anymore.
“Let’s go,” he says to Alder, draining the last of his coffee before rising.
Wingnut lets out a furious quack as he passes, but makes no move to stop him. He stays where he is, blocking Caz behind the bar with random lunges in his direction like he’s testing the prospect’s reflexes.
“Dude, can you take the duck?” Caz pleads, gesturing towards Wingnut helplessly.
“To a meeting with the Dominion Sons?” Alder asks, gripping the back of my neck and steering me towards the door. “No.”
Before I step outside, I catch sight of Caz throwing a towel in frustrated surrender, just as Wingnut charges again, and flapping, quacking, and yelling follow us out.
“I’m dropping Cade at home first,” Alder calls to Kurt as he heads for his bike.
“We’ll follow,” Kurt replies without looking back. “Dom, Mac. Mount up.”
Dom and Mac emerge from the garage, and I pull on my helmet before climbing onto Alder’s bike behind him.
All four engines roar to life one by one in a deep, guttural roar that vibrates through my chest and has my heart picking up its pace.
Alder leads us through the streets of Fredericton to the other side of town, and I watch as eyes follow us from windows and sidewalks.
When Alder pulls into my driveway, the others roll to a stop along the curb with their engines still rumbling, forming a line of black-and-chrome tension standing sentinel outside my house.
I swing off the bike and pull off my helmet. And while Alder takes it from me to stow it in the saddlebag, I glance out at the street where the others wait for him.
It’s an ominous scene, knowing why they’re here and where they’re going.
I turn back to Alder. “Be bad.”
He smiles darkly and reaches up to wrap a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me down into a bruising kiss. Then he shoves me back a step and turns his bike.
“Be worse,” he calls over the rumbling engine, before he takes off out of my driveway, and the others peel off behind him, thundering down the quiet residential street.
And I can’t help but chuckle at the curious faces of my neighbours peering out of their windows in shock and fear as they watch me head into my house.
Once inside, I head straight for the coffeepot and get it started. As it begins brewing, I head upstairs to change and find my phone still plugged in on the nightstand. With four missed calls from Darren.
Shit.
He calls every Saturday, and I haven’t even looked at my phone since Friday night.
I pull on some clean clothes and grab it, heading downstairs to the smell of coffee.
My thumb hovers over his name to call him back, but…
I just don’t have it in me to put on a fake smile and pretend like I’m something to be worried about.
Plus, it’s Sunday morning, so he’s probably out with the kids, or—
The phone starts vibrating in my hand, and I sigh.
It’s Darren.
I know I can’t ignore him.
I hit answer and lift the phone to my ear as I enter the kitchen. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says in a rush, like he wasn’t sure I’d pick up. “I called you yesterday…”
“Yeah.” I open the cupboard and grab a mug. “I was out.”
“Ah,” Daren says slowly, and I practically feel the tension bleeding out of him. “What were you up to?”
As I pour coffee into my mug, I try to think about how to answer that. I don’t think sucking off the Basin Kings’ VP on the clubhouse rooftop is going to be a satisfactory answer. “Just out for a beer.”
He pauses for a moment. “With…?”
A sigh escapes me as I place the coffeepot back in its cradle.
“What?” Darren laughs softly. “They’re important enough for you to miss a call from your big brother, so at some point we’re going to have to know who it is.”
I lean back against the counter and take a drink of my coffee.
I never thought about how my family would take this…
situation. Whatever it is. They only ever met one guy I was seeing years ago, and it was nothing important.
For me, anyway. I went through the motions because that’s what I was supposed to want—someone to settle down with, and build a life around.
But I wasn’t connected to him, or to any version of myself that could have made that real.
I didn’t want him… I just wanted to be the kind of person who could.
They were sad to see me throw away something that could have been good for me.
So, I don’t think they’ll be too pleased about Alder.
“So?” Darren asks. “Do I at least get a name? Or are you going to keep pretending I don’t know you’re seeing someone?”
“No,” I say, taking another drink.
He chuckles. “Which one? Come on. Give me something.”
“Can you just fuck off?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and immediately, I regret it.
Fuck.
Darren is silent for a moment as I close my eyes and wait for it.
“Cade…”
Here we fucking go.
“Are you ok?” he asks. I hear a door shut, probably going somewhere no one else can listen to what a disappointment his brother is. “Do you… Have you thought about talking to someone again? It’s been a while and… I don’t know, it helped you before, right? There’s no shame—”
“I know there’s no fucking shame,” I snap.
And this time I don’t feel so bad.
I’ve seen therapists. Plenty of them, since I was a kid. I’ve been dragged into offices by Darren and my parents, forced to sit through sessions I didn’t ask for and talk about things I never wanted to say out loud.
And maybe on the outside it looked like it helped. But it was slow and exhausting, and the thought of sitting across from someone so they can tear me open again feels worse than drinking a bottle of rum every night.
Darren stays quiet, waiting for me to say something.
I pull in a breath and try to gather myself enough to end this.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“No, you’re not.”
My eyes immediately find the cupboard that holds a bottle of whiskey that promises to make this feeling go away.
Because those words, even though I know they’re true, hit me harder than I expected.
“Cade,” Darren says again, more firmly this time.
“I’m worried. I always will be. Not just because you’re my brother, but because I’ve watched you struggle through these episodes and I’ve watched them get worse.
And it feels like all I can do is stand back and watch you sink again, because you won’t let anyone get close enough to help.
And you need help.” He sighs, then his voice takes on a more gentle tone.
“You have to know this is getting worse… right? And you think I don’t notice the ways you try to cope with it on your own? ”
I close my eyes and rub my forehead.
I know he’s right. I know everything he’s saying is true. I know I’m slipping farther than I ever have.
But that only makes it harder to face. Because he’s cornering me and shining a light on something I’ve worked hard to keep hidden in the dark.
The emptiness that lives inside me is so strong and overwhelming that I don’t even understand how something that doesn’t feel like anything can ruin everything.
I wake up tired and go to sleep pissed off. People talk to me, and it makes my teeth itch. I want them to stop caring, stop asking, and stop reminding me I’m drowning.
I don’t want to be an asshole. But when everything lands like noise and every emotion sits just under the surface waiting to snap, it’s easier to lash out than admit I’m falling apart.
“I know,” I say, trying to keep the bite out of my tone so I can just end this conversation. “Thanks.”
“Cade, look—”
“I’ll see you this weekend,” I cut in. “Looking forward to it. But I gotta go. Have a good one.”
Then I hang up and place my hands on either side of the counter, letting my head drop as the silence of my house settles over me.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to shut him out and make him feel like shit, just because he cares.
But I don’t know how to be anything else right now.
So I step forward, open the cupboard, and pour whiskey into my coffee. Then I take the bottle with me to my desk and drop into the chair.
I take a long drink as I open my computer to go over my research notes.
Might as well forget about everything else.