Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
RYAN
Standing in front of the bakery, I tilt my head back and look at the sight. Nash chuckles next to me, brushing past me and walking straight into the shop. He is boisterous as he calls out for Shawn. Adam and I scurry behind him, Adam promptly ditching me to ogle the case in front of him.
Shawn is packing up some treats when her eyes slip past Nash and find mine. She smiles, but I can tell it doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks tired. Moving around the counter, I ignore the fact that I probably don’t belong there and take the box from her.
“How long have you been on your feet?” I demand.
“What’s happening?” Nash asks.
As her father-in-law, it’s clear he is completely concerned with her welfare, and that makes me feel super warm inside. I don’t know Nash that well. He was this enigma when I first started hanging around the club, then he left, and Grover took over in his place.
“Nothing,” Shawn says, lifting her hand and waving him off as I guide her over to a chair and make her sit.
“She’s tired,” I state.
Nash’s eyes widen as he looks from her to me, then to Adam before he shifts his attention back to mine again. “What the fuck do we do?” he asks.
I can’t help but smile. “Well, you can take my car if you want, but I’m going to make sure the dishes are done and things are as organized and picked up around here as possible.”
“No,” Shawn calls out. “I couldn’t let you.”
Nash grunts. “The fuck I’m leaving you here. I know what kind of freak that asshole is who hurt you, and I’m hoping he shows up so I can finish him once and for all.”
I should probably not feel as relieved at the idea of Nash, or anyone, killing Golden Joker, but I do.
I want him gone. I know it makes me sound heartless, but he was even more so when he beat the shit out of me in hopes I would agree to submit to his garbage, to his plan, to his idea of me paying off my sister’s debt.
“Then have a seat,” I state.
“Mommy?” Adam calls out. Flicking my gaze down to him, I smile. “Cookie?”
Arching a brow, I walk over to him, crouching down in front of him. “If you’re asking me for a cookie, you need to use all your words.”
Adam lets out an annoyed, heavy sigh and rolls his eyes to the ceiling before he brings them back down to focus on mine. I almost laugh. Inwardly, I’m rolling because just when I think that he is all Grover, he does this and proves to me that there is a little of myself nestled deep inside of him.
“Mommy,” he exhales, “may I have a cookie please?”
My lips curve up into a smile. “Good. Thank you, and yes, you may. Which one would you like?”
He lifts his hand and points to the almond butter chocolate chip cookie. It’s about the size of my palm and at least a quarter of an inch thick. It looks soft and chocolaty. By the time I’m finished taking it all in, I want one, too.
“Then an almond butter chocolate chip cookie you’ll have,” I say with a wink as I straighten myself and walk around the case.
“How much do I owe you for the cookie?” I ask, turning my head to look over at Shawn, who thankfully has taken my orders and advice and is sitting down still.
“You help me with dishes, and it’s on the house,” she replies.
“Can I get in on that action?” Nash asks.
Shawn snorts. “I would pay to watch you do dishes. Just take a damn cookie.”
A few moments later, Adam is sitting at a pub table with Shawn and Nash.
All three of them are eating almond butter chocolate chip cookies, and I’m washing dishes while they enjoy themselves.
I should probably be annoyed or something that they’re relaxing while I’m working, but I’m not. In fact, I think I like it.
I miss being so busy that I can’t even think.
Since my attack, I haven’t done much, and I’ve been feeling useless and lazy.
This makes me feel like I have a purpose again, and hopefully, I can come here every day and keep myself busy.
I want to be so busy that I can’t think about the fact that Grover hates me.
I want to be so busy that I can’t think about my sister betraying me and how I probably deserve it because of the way I betrayed Grover.
Over and over.
I deserve everything that’s coming back on me. It’s karma at its absolute finest, and I’ve brought it all on myself.
Every single part of it.
Once the dishes are finished, the cookies have been consumed, and I’ve packaged up the entire case of cookies, desserts, and even a cake, I look at Shawn expectantly. I’m not sure why I’m packing all of this up exactly.
“Where am I taking all of this?” I ask.
I expect her to say her car and that is that, but she doesn’t. “My car, because we’re going to a birthday party.”
“We?” I ask, my gaze flicking down to Adam, who is watching the exchange and taking everything in the way he always does. Silently soaking in every bit of information he can, whether he understands it or not.
“We,” Shawn says.
“It’s Guts’s birthday,” Nash announces.
I don’t know Guts, but I can only guess that this birthday party isn’t for kids. “I think I’ll stay home with Adam,” I murmur.
Nash snorts as he stands to his feet. “I’ll stay with him. You girls have fun. I think you need the night to relax,” he says, his eyes focused on mine, searching them for a moment.
I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head once. “I got Adam, babe. He will be safe with me.”
Adam will be safe with Nash. If there was ever anyone he could be safe with, aside from me and Grover, it would be Nash and King. They are the two best men in the world. But that being said, I can’t leave Adam.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Yes, you can,” Nash says.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as a flashback to six years ago clouds my vision.
I walked away six years ago because I walked into a party, a patch party after a prospect had earned his patch and road name.
I was working late, wasn’t supposed to show up at all.
But I knew that Atomic would be staying the night, and I wanted to fall asleep beside him.
I loved him so much.
I just wanted to sleep and wake up with him every night until I died. Then I stepped into that bar, and it wasn’t just the fact that the whore was riding him. She was kissing him, and he was kissing her back.
Everything inside of me broke in that instant. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught him with a clubwhore, but it was the first time I’d seen him kissing another woman. It killed me right then and there.
I walked away from the Dark Horse MC, taking the fifty grand he had in the desk drawer in his office. I knew about that money because I counted it for him before he slipped it inside. Ellen had already been messing around with the Nomad Kings MC, and when I went to find her, we left with them.
When I left the clubhouse, I swore to myself that I would never go to another party there. They hurt too badly. It’s silly, I know. Not all the men do that, and I don’t even know if Grover would now, but I never want to know. I think I’d rather be the fool instead of having all the information.
At least when it comes to the club, the whores, and the parties.
ATOMIC
Lifting the glass to my lips, I take the shot. The liquid burns as it slides down my throat. I hiss and glance around the room. The party is getting started. The music is loud, the bass filling the room as people talk and drink. Every minute that passes, everyone gets a little louder.
Brew climbs onto the barstool beside me, silently. I pour myself another shot, wondering what the fuck he’s going to say and knowing that I’m not going to like it. Fuck, I haven’t liked much lately when it comes to news, so I shift my attention to him and arch a brow as I wait for the hit.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’m good,” I lie.
He snorts. “King told me that she admitted the kid is yours.”
Nodding once, I lift the glass to my lips and take another shot. I don’t know how many I’m down tonight, but I don’t care either. I don’t know how I feel about any of this, and I’m tired of fucking feeling.
I’m over it.
Part of me wishes I didn’t even know. The other part is still angry that she hid it from me the way she did.
At this point, trust seems to be something from the past. I don’t know if I’ll ever have that with her again, no matter how badly I want to believe her blindly.
Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair before I pour myself another shot.
“He is.”
Brew jerks his chin, his gaze focused on my profile. I don’t look back over to him. Instead, I continue to pour and drink. One after the other. I’m pretty sure I won’t even be able to walk by the time I’m done here.
Hopefully, I’ll just pass out with my head on the wooden bar top, and when I wake up, shit will be different—better. I doubt that will be the case, but it would be nice to be able to drink problems away—feelings away. I know from experience that it doesn’t work, though.
There is silence until Brew clears his throat. Instead of asking him what he’s thinking, I just wait.
“Dad would love it,” he says, his voice soft.
I almost don’t hear him, and I think about asking him to repeat it just in case I misheard him, but then he continues to speak, and I realize I understood him perfectly.
“He would say that it was time and there’s no better old lady than Ryan for you. He fuckin’ loved that girl. She fucked up, but she had her reasons. She’s not a mean cunt.”
“She stole fifty grand from the club and ran. She kept the knowledge of my child from me for six years. She more than fucked up, brother.”
He lifts his hand, slamming it down on the bar. I watch as he glides his palm across the scarred top before it stops directly in front of my bottle of Crown. He wraps his fingers around it and lifts it, taking it away from me. I almost open my mouth and ask him what the fuck he’s doing.
I don’t.
Mainly because he keeps talking.
“What you don’t need is to lose yourself. It’s fucked what she did. It’s fucked that you didn’t go after her. The whole thing is fucked, and you two are the absolute most stubborn assholes on the planet. It works for you, though. She’s your match in every way.”
My torso sways and I feel like I might actually fall off the chair, but I blink a few more times, trying to gather myself and realizing that I’m already fucking drunk off my ass. Or rather, almost falling onto my ass.
“Brew,” I warn.
He snorts as Clink walks up between us. I feel his arm slide around my shoulder, and he puts his head between me and Brew. He shifts his attention from one side to the other, looking at our profiles with a huge smile playing on his lips.
“Complicated fucking women. They’re going to be the death of all the men here. Swear to fuck. It will not be me. I’ll be the last fucking man standing, swear to shit.”
“Final words spoken like a fucking fool,” I say, every single one of my words slurring, but I don’t think I could not slur my words at this point. I’ve had no food and way too much fucking booze. I’ll be lucky if I make it to the birthday song and cake when it gets here.
“Nobody said I wasn’t,” I point out.
“And speak for your fucking selves,” Brew barks. “I got no woman and no plans on ever having one.”
I hear a noise and swing my attention over to him, watching as my brother stands to his feet, then takes a few steps backward.
His gaze finds mine, and he holds it for a moment, but I’m not sure which one of him I should focus on since there are two.
So, I just stare between them and hope it appears as if I’m focused on him.
“Whatever you do, you know I’ll always have your back, but I know you better than anyone else here. And I know she’s your Frances,” he says, an effective mic drop, before he turns and walks away.
I don’t have to ask him what he means by Frances. When I got into US History and discovered that I actually shared the name of a president of the United States, Grover Cleveland, I became enamored by learning everything about him, which included his personal life and his young wife, Frances.
It’s fucking ridiculous. I hadn’t even thought about my stupid obsession in years, but leave it to my brother to mention it, to put that shit in my head.
Because, in many ways, Ryan is a bit like Frances Cleveland.
She’s much younger than me, for starters.
She’s got debts up to her eyeballs, and I’m sure she used that fifty grand of mine to help her, or her sister, out of some shit.
Fuck me.
Ryan is my Frances.