18. Nova
Chapter eighteen
Nova
T he loud banging on my door wakes me from what feels like the shortest sleep of my life. I walk over and peer through the peephole, only to find myself staring directly at Cillian’s stern face. I don’t see his eyes since he’s wearing sunglasses, but I hope to hell they’re as red and bloodshot as I’m sure mine are. Fucking asshole .
Wrenching the door open, I stand in the doorway, refusing to say good morning or any other pleasantry that most civilized human beings start their day with. Fuck him and his almost declaration of love, then treating me like utter trash before I could even wrap my head around the last two days.
“Be ready in twenty minutes. We need to get on the road.”
“Fine.”
“Great. And here.” He shoves two cups of coffee and what looks to be some sort of Danish wrapped in a napkin. “The hotel had breakfast out.”
I grab both. “Thanks.” Then promptly slam the door in his face.
If he has some idea that offering me shitty hotel coffee and some stale Danish is going to soften me up after last night, he’s sadly mistaken. He could have given me a second to breathe, but he didn’t. Instead, after fucking me, he came out of the bathroom even angrier than he was before. He’s the one who was so fucking pissed that I ran without talking to him, but what would he call that? Hypocritical is the word that comes to mind.
“It’s nice to see you two working out your problems,” Harper says as she sits up and stretches her arms over her head. She sinks back into the pillows, scrubbing her hands over her face.
“No problems to work out. He’s being an asshole, and I’m not going to put up with it.”
“It sounded like you were putting up with it just fine last night.”
“Oh shit, you heard us?” Embarrassment that Harper heard us, hell, embarrassment that I let it happen in the first place, washes over me.
“Honey, I'm pretty sure if anyone else was staying in this fleabag motel, they would have heard you, too.”
I sit in the chair at the table in front of the window and take a sip of coffee. “Sorry if we woke you up. I went over there to explain what happened, and he was being a prick about the entire thing, and I don’t know, I got up to walk out and he stopped me and…well, you heard the rest.” I unwrap a Danish and start picking at the flaky crust, popping a piece into my mouth. Okay, not terrible. “Then, after we…finished, he was back to being a complete dick.”
“I mean, you can’t blame the guy too much.” I look at her with indignation in my gaze, and she throws her hands in the air. “Whoa there, sister. If you hate him, then I’ll hate him right along with you. United front, remember?” she says, waving her finger between the two of us. “But it’s not like it’s out of the realm of possibilities that the guy would be a little more than miffed with the way you left things. And don’t get me wrong, if he was in New Orleans because your brother’s prez wanted him to keep an eye on you, then that’s fucked up.”
“Apparently, Ozzy had no idea Cillian was in New Orleans or that he'd met me at all.”
Harper shoots me a knowing look. “Now do you think it may have been smarter to talk to him instead of running off?” It’s not the first time she’s brought it up, but this time, we have all the information.
“Is that your way of saying I told you so?”
Harper smiles sweetly in my direction and innocently bats her blue eyes. “Only in the most loving way possible.”
She swings her legs from the bed and stands. We’re both wearing the same outfit, a loose T-shirt and shorts provided by Liam since neither of us could stand to be in the grimy clothes from last night. I suggested we burn them, but she shot that idea down.
“I’m going to take a quick shower. Sounds like he wants to get out of here, and I’m not particularly inclined to stick around here with Tony out there.” Harper lets out a breath and turns toward the bathroom.
“You okay, Harpy?”
Harper stops at the doorway to the bathroom with her back toward me. “Not really, but I will be.” She turns her head in my direction. “We both will.” Then she steps into the bathroom and shuts the door.
God, I wish I had her confidence.
Cillian was none too happy when I told him I wanted to stop by my aunt and uncle’s to get my bag. I have no money, no way of accessing any funds, and I’m going to be days away from the safety net that is the contents of that bag. There is absolutely no way I’m going up to Shine without it.
“Fuck. Fine,” he finally relents after we’ve been sitting in the car for the last ten minutes arguing about it. Maybe he doesn’t want to waste more time when it’s clear as day I’m about to get out of this car and make my own way to Shine if I have to. Or maybe he understands my need to not be completely without anything to fall back on if I decide I need to skip town in a hurry. Either way, I get my way. The urge to stick out my tongue at him is strong, but I remind myself I’m an adult and, unfortunately, at his mercy for the next couple of days.
My aunt and uncle aren't at the house when we stop there, so after Harper and I change into some of my clothes that are still there, I make Cillian take us to the bar.
It’s almost funny watching him walk into a little highway dive bar in his perfectly pressed black suit. You would think he'd be getting all kinds of strange looks from the few regulars that are here this time of day, but when we walk in and the three old guys take a look at us, they quickly divert their gazes. There’s something about Cillian that screams predator. Especially since he’s in the same foul mood he’s been in for the entire drive.
My aunt walks from the back and sees Harper and me with a man she doesn’t recognize, but she isn’t one to shrink away from a man like Cillian. Or anyone, for that matter. She walks straight up to me and wraps her arms around me.
“You had us worried, girl,” Trina says when she pulls away. She keeps a firm grip on my arms and looks me up and down. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Aunt Trina. Just needed to grab a few things from the house and didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” I offer her a casual smile, but there’s no doubt she knows I’m keeping something from her. The woman has always been able to read me and my brother like an open book.
She looks over to Harper and releases me, opening her arms to my best friend. “Harper, it’s so good to see you. I think the last time I saw you was when I came up for the weekend last year, wasn’t it?”
“Hi Trina. I’ve missed you. We need to have another girls’ weekend soon,” she says, letting my aunt pull her into a tight embrace. “Although next time, I refuse to match you shot for shot. It took a week to recover.”
Trina laughs and Cillian watches on with aloof interest. My aunt steps back and looks Cillian up and down, taking his measure and probably deciding if she’s going to allow Harper and me out of this bar with him.
“Trina, this is Cillian,” I introduce, and he holds out his hand. Trina looks at the offered hand, then back to his face, finally sliding her smaller palm into his.
“Are you the reason my niece came running to her uncle and me?”
Cillian’s eyes widen a fraction before he schools his features. My aunt's bluntness can be a little off-putting if you aren’t prepared. He looks to me then back to Trina. “Yes.”
She turns back to me. “Looks like you made your choice then.”
It’s not exactly like we have time to go into all the details of why I trust Cillian now, at least with my physical safety. My heart is a whole other story, and that shit is locked up tight like Fort Knox at the moment. So, instead, I offer her a smile and another hug.
“We have to go. I love you. Thank you for letting me crash with you.”
“Anytime, sweet pea.” She pulls back and looks Cillian square in the eye. “You keep these girls safe.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Well, at least he doesn’t forget his manners, despite being a broody asshole all day.
When we get back in the car and drive away, I watch that little bar get smaller in my side mirror. I hope to get back here sooner rather than later, but I suppose that all depends on what waits for us in Shine.
Two days. Two days of silent treatment and convenience store food. We only stopped once so Cillian could get some rest for a few hours at another little roadside motel. This time I did not wander into his room for any sort of conversation. We were only there for about five hours before Cillian banged on our door and told us we needed to get on the road again.
It’s nearing six o’clock at night when we pull into the gravel lot of the Black Roses clubhouse. The prospect at the gate allows us in, and I wonder if that used to be my brother’s job. When I would talk to him, he’d tell me they didn’t have him doing anything dangerous; he was just around to clean up and do whatever grunt work Ozzy needed. Seems like guarding a gate would fall under that. I imagine his smile, the easy way he had with people. I remember the day he left New Orleans and the hug he gave me, telling me as soon as he was settled, he expected his little sister to come visit him. I remember the phone call from Cash telling me we lost him.
My throat is thick and my heart feels as though it’s about to pound out of my chest when Cillian parks the car. Harper gets out first, stretches, then walks to my door. She doesn’t open it or try to hurry me. She knows I need a few moments to compose myself. I’ve spent the last year believing this place, these people, were responsible for the death of my brother. I honestly didn’t think it was going to be this hard, and at the time, it was a better alternative to being stuck with Cillian and dealing with all that shit. But I’m beginning to think I jumped out of the frying pan and straight into the fire I’ve been avoiding since Cooper died.
The door to the clubhouse opens, and a tall man with a beard and dark hair walks out, followed by a familiar face. Cash walks to the car with that Southern boy swagger he’s always had. If I hadn’t known him since I was a kid, and if he hadn’t used to pull my hair and tease the hell out of me alongside Cooper, I probably would have had a crush on the man. He was always someone we looked up to as an older brother, and the thought of anything else gives me the heebie-jeebies. But that was then, and this is now. The only thing I feel seeing him again is anger. And the longer I sit here, the more I think this may have been a really bad idea.
You’re doing this so Harper can be safe and you don’t have to rely on a man who hate-fucked you two days ago.
“Hey, Nova,” he says when I open the door.
I don’t smile, don't jump into his arms like I used to when I was a little girl. It’s not just Ozzy I blame for what happened to Cooper.
“Hello, Cash.”
The look of disappointment is clear on his face. Maybe he thought that my coming here meant I forgave him for the part he played in my brother leaving New Orleans. Maybe he thought our reunion would be like old times. Either way, he’s dead fucking wrong.
The tall man who was the first to step out walks over and stands in front of our moody driver.
“Cillian. Good to see you,” he says, holding out his hand.
Cillian clasps his palm to the man’s. “Ozzy. Thanks for doing this.”
So this is Ozzy .
I never made it up to Shine before Cooper died, so I’ve never had the chance to meet the man standing on the other side of the car. The man who I blamed all these past months for taking one of the few people I would have laid down my life for. And the reason I’m here is to keep the other person I love more than anything from being hunted and killed by the man who tried to sell us.
Ozzy looks over at me, and I stare right back at him. I have to remind myself again that I’m doing this for Harper, and he’s doing this for Cooper. It would be a poor decision on my part to attack the MC president in his own clubhouse, even though that’s the scenario that played in my head over and over for the last year.
When he walks around to the other side of the car where Cash, Harper, and I still stand, he holds out his hand to me.
“I’m Ozzy Lewis.”
I look at his hand, then back to him, reluctantly taking it. “Nova Reed. This is Harper.” I promptly drop his hand as though it’s on fire.
Ozzy smiles at my best friend, and she returns it, but hers is tight. That’s Harper. When she says she’ll hate someone because I do, she means it.
“Let’s get your stuff inside,” Cash offers, obviously sensing the thick tension in the fall air.
Cillian pops the trunk, and Ozzy reaches in to grab both bags.
“I’ll take this one,” I say, grabbing the bag of jewels. Cillian knows exactly what’s in this bag. It’s the same bag we stuffed the jewelry into in the first place.
Ozzy grabs the other one with all my clothes that Harper and I will be sharing for the foreseeable future. I’m not sure what the rules are for being under the protection of an MC, but I’m guessing trips to the closest clothing store are out of the question.
When I walk into the clubhouse, I’m taken aback by how not trashed the place is. I always thought there would be a plethora of naked women and dirty bikers everywhere—and ashtrays and beer bottles littering every surface. But this place is tidy and doesn’t smell like three-day-old trash, so that's a good sign.
The bar runs along the back wall, and there’s a hallway leading to rooms beyond my view. To the right is a swinging door with a few small round dining tables and chairs set up close to it. To the left are several leather couches with a giant TV hanging on the wall, and beyond that is a pool table. All in all, a typical man cave, just on a much bigger scale. One thing I also wasn’t expecting but probably should have is that every eye in the clubhouse is on me. They aren’t ogling with their mouths hanging open like I’ve seen a million times in the various bars I’ve worked at. These are looks of reverence and respect. Looks that contain warmth and sympathy.
Another tall man who looks to be about the same age as Ozzy walks up to us and shakes Cillian’s hand before turning to me. I read the patch on his cut. Vice President .
“I’m Knox, the club’s VP. Your brother was a good man.”
“I know. He was my brother.” I suddenly feel possessive over Cooper in a way I never have before. I don’t want anyone in this room telling me what a great guy my brother was. I fucking know.
Damn, that fire I jumped in is getting hotter by the second.
I notice a couple of the men’s eyes dart between Knox and me nervously. What do they think he’s going to do? Smack me or something? Regardless of the fact Cillian is basically dumping me here, granted, by my request, I doubt anyone in this room would have the balls to try any bullshit with him around.
Knox nods and steps aside, clearly allowing me my space.
Well…okay then.
“Where can I set my things?” I ask Cash.
“I’ll show you two to your rooms. We set you up right next to each other.”
Cash takes the bag from Ozzy and leads the way to the hallway. Before we head down the hall, I look at the wall between the entrance to the hallway and the bar. My brother’s smiling face—along with a cut—is mounted on the wall with a black band around the corner of the frame. I stop, and from the corner of my eye, I see Harper pause next to me and raise her head. She must see what I’m looking at because her hand finds mine and she squeezes. I’m not going to break down in this room in front of all these strangers, but when we get behind closed doors, that’s another story entirely. My eyes close for a brief moment before we follow Cash down the hall and to our rooms.
“You okay?” Harper asks as I put the last of our things in the dresser in my room.
“I feel like we’re asking each other that question a lot lately, and I’m really not a fan.”
Her answering laugh is hollow and sad as she sits on the queen-size mattress in the otherwise sparse room. A bed, dresser, nightstand, and a lamp. That’s it. Although, I suppose most of the people who travel through here aren't too concerned with anything other than a bed to sleep or do other things in. God, I sound like a spoiled princess looking down my nose at the people who are taking me and Harper in and protecting us. Anger aside, I’m above being a judgy bitch.
“Seeing Cooper’s picture was…”
“Yeah.”
“It seems like he had a lot of people who cared about him here. I wasn’t expecting that. By the way they looked at you when you walked in, it was like they were about to get on their knees and bow their heads as a sign of respect or something.”
“Leave it to you to exaggerate.” I close the drawer and turn to face Harper before leaning against the weathered dresser.
“Maybe a tad. But seriously, Nova, I don’t think any one of those men out there would let anyone get close to hurting you.”
“So they aren’t out to get women killed. Great.”
Harper presses her lips together as her jaw works back and forth like she’s chewing on something. “Nova, remember how I said I would hate anyone on principle right along with you?”
“Yeah…” My arms cross over my chest. It’s one of those instinctual reactions, like I somehow need to protect myself from whatever she’s about to tell me.
“I’m also going to tell you when you aren't seeing things as clearly as you could be.” She raises her hand, stopping me from speaking when I open my mouth. “And before you argue with me, think about why you ditched Cillian and how it was a giant misunderstanding.”
“This is different, Harper.”
“I’m not saying you don’t have the right to feel how you choose to feel about your brother’s death. But how would you feel if, heaven forbid, one of these guys dies before all this is through and they have a sister who spends the rest of their life blaming you?”
My breath stalls in my chest before I let it out slowly through my nose. “I’d probably say they made their choice.”
“Just like Cooper did. He made the choice to come here. He made the choice to protect that girl.”
“He was a kid who wanted to be part of a family. They took advantage of that and put his life in danger.”
“And I’m your family. Did I take advantage when I called you, scared out of my mind, needing you?”
I rear back. “Of course not. I love you.”
“And he loved his club. He would have done anything for them. Just like he would have done anything for you. Just like you would do anything for me. You spend a lot of time blaming Ozzy and the Black Roses. But do you ever blame Cooper? Do you put the blame where it really belongs? On the man who killed him?”
“Of course I’m mad at Cooper! He broke my heart when he left and found another family.” I throw my hands to the side as hot, angry tears run down my face. “He came to Shine and got himself killed instead of staying with me!”
Harper stares, her own eyes misty. She has never been one to let me cry alone. “Maybe the real problem was leaving and finding something with a group of people without including you. Babe, it sucks that he bolted like that. I hate that he left you. But that wasn’t the club’s fault or Ozzy’s. That was his.”
An angry tear tracks down my face and I bat it away, hating the fact that she’s making sense.
“Anger has gotten you through the last year, Nova. Blaming everyone except your brother for abandoning you has kept your heart safe. But it might be time to consider it’s misplaced. And it might be time to consider you aren’t the only one who grieved his death.”
I hang my head and let out a shuddering breath. “You might be onto something.”
And dammit if it’s not a kick to the gut.