Chapter Seventeen Ro
Chapter Seventeen
Ro
Dressed in a pair of black tights and an oversized black t-shirt I pilfered from Gambit; I make my way out of the room cautiously.
The clubhouse is eerie when it’s empty. A couple of prospects are playing pool in the billiards section.
They peer up at me, and I give a half wave before making a beeline to the kitchen.
The shiny appliances are straight out of a Martha Stewart advert.
Top of the line and glistening like they belonged in a Michelin-starred kitchen, it’s obvious this room was created with the women in the club in mind.
I open the oversized fridge and marvel at the food available.
A mixture of fresh fruit and veg sits next to grab-and-go options.
Peering in the freezer, I opt for a childhood staple I haven’t had in ages, Toaster Strudel.
Snagging two, I grab icing packets and move to the toaster oven.
Slipping them onto the tray, I close the door and turn on the timer.
Exploring the kitchen, I admire the soft, pale yellow walls with white subway tile.
The oak furniture is a diner-style seating with benches to accommodate the large influx of people who come and go in the space.
There are photos of the brothers in various locations.
Some are recent, and others are clearly in the eighties or sixties.
It’s an homage to the organization through the years.
The timer dings, and I retrieve my food.
Sitting, I eat slowly, going over my conversation with Gambit.
He seemed to be softening toward me. Was that pillow talk, or did he mean it?
It’s impossible to tell. Finishing up, I send a text to my sister.
Ro: How are things?
B: I’ve been waiting for you to call. I got my first college letter.
Ro: What did it say?
B: I don’t know, I’ve been waiting. Face time?
Ro: Duh
The phone rings, and I answer. “Hello, college girl!” I keep my voice cheerful to hide the fear that comes with her leaving and being out on her own. I’ve done my best to instill in her common sense, values, and strength. Now it’s her time to fly.
“Maybe not.” The worry in her voice hurts my heart. Her smile drops.
“Please, you’ve got this. Your grades are immaculate, and you did plenty of extra activities. Which school is this?”
She holds up a printed sheet of paper. “I didn’t read it yet. They sent email responses to the areas impacted by the recent storms. This is from the University of San Diego.”
I smile at the irony. “Read it.”
Hands shaking, she rips open the seal. Unfolding the letter, she begins to read.
“What does it say?” I ask, bouncing in place. The phone shifts, and Lotte comes into view.
“I’ll hold this. Hello, friend. You look incredible.”
I laugh. “Liar. I’m in a t-shirt and leggings.”
“You’re more relaxed than I’ve seen you in ages.” She narrows her eyes. “Oh, my God.” You slut, she mouths.
Giggling, I grin.
“You have been accepted to attend The University of San Diego, California.” Beaming, she’s a radiant beauty with a bright future. The grin is so wide it nearly splits her face, and her eyes sparkle in a way I’ve never seen before. She’s on the right path for her. Which is all I ever wanted.
I squeal. Lotte’s squeal joins mine. “One down. More to go.”
“I can’t believe I got accepted. How are we going to pay for this?”
“You let me worry about that. There’s plenty of financial aid.
” And a huge boost of money that’ll give me a head start.
I’ll sell the old house and downsize if necessary.
Seeing her take such a big step toward her future releases me from the chains that anchored me in place. “I am so proud of you, Betti.”
“Thank you. I couldn’t have gotten here without you.”
Sniffling, I smile.
“Careful, D.” I hear pool sticks slammed down, and my helper instincts kick in.
“Hey, I need to go. But I’ll check back in with you soon, okay?” I ask with a forced grin.
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too.”
Disconnecting, I hurry out. Rushing down the hallway I enter the main room.
I see a white-haired man with sun-worn skin, swaying with a giant duffel on his shoulder.
The Prospects help him over to a chair, and I hurry over.
In his white and black flannel shirt over a white t-shirt, and dark blue denim jeans, he screams Southern California.
Weaving around the pool tables, I join them.
“Can I help?” I ask.
He looks up, shocked. His dark blue eyes widen. “Who’s this?” He’s thin, bordering on gaunt, but I can see the handsome man he was before the cancer got him. His Roman nose, oval-shaped face, and downturned eyes with crow’s feet give off an aura of kindness.
“Ro. Gambit’s girl,” the Prospects reply at the same time.
“Huh. What did you do to land out here on timeout, missing all the action?” he asks with a grin.
“I don’t know? Have a vagina?”
D laughs. “Yeah, that’ll do it. I’m fine. Just a little worn from chemo. A quick top-up of fluids will do me good.”
“Please tell me you didn’t leave chemo by yourself like this.”
D smiles up at me. “Okay. I won’t tell you.” The white-haired man rolls his eyes, and I laugh.
“Where’s your family?”
“Son’s in medical school. I don’t like to worry him.”
“Uh-huh. I get the feeling he’d yell at you if he knew what you were doing.”
“Probably. You know, medical workers make the worst patients.”
I laugh. “I do know that. Can I get your IV going?”
“You seem like you know your way around the medical field?”
“Guilty. I’m an RN.”
“We have a room for this kind of thing; I just needed a minute to rest before I could make my way there.” The shame in his voice hurts my heart.
“Well lead the way.” I grab his bag before he can protest, and the prospects help him stand.
Slowly, we walk across the main room and down the main hallway.
We pause in front of a frosted glass door.
I turn the knob and push open the door. Stepping inside, I turn on the lights and whistle at the pricey equipment.
“They spared no expense with this setup, huh?” D asks.
“I’d say. It’s nicer than some of the hospitals I’ve worked in.”
D barks a laugh. “You came at the right time then. I could use some help around here. It’s usually a family gig, but my son decided to go a different route. It’s honest pay and much easier on the longevity of life.”
“I didn’t think the Kings were that bad.”
“No, I work on all the clubs around here. I’m what you call an independent contractor.”
“You sound proud of your son, though,” I observe the sparkle in his blue eyes and the curve up at the corners of his mouth. I’m surprised by how expressive the burly biker is. I never saw my father look even half as proud.
“I am. A man has to make his own way and find what brings him peace and happiness. It’s what life’s all about.”
“And that’s why you’re a healer?” I ask, fascinated by his duality. A healer up to his neck in outlaws is an oxymoron.
“I like fixing things. Putting what’s broken back together is its own kind of magic.” He smiles. “I also had a career as an E.M.T. after I left the Navy.”
“That probably helped too.”
He snickers. “I’m one of those people who the military actually saved from prison or the grave.”
“How did you manage to be a go-between. I thought that kind of thing was frowned upon.” I walk over to the sink and scrub down with the antibacterial soap dispenser attached to the wall.
“Made a lot of friends, but never fully committed to any club. Drove my pops nuts that I didn’t put on the M.C. Cut. But it ended up working out for all of us.” He continues to chat with me as I set up the saline drip, tie off his arm, and swab down the best vein.
“It’s going to be a little pinch.” Inserting the needle, I tape it down and let the nutrients make their way into his vein.
“Where’s ol’ Gambit been hiding you? I can hear you’re not local.”
“Louisiana.”
His brows raise so fast, I half expect the hairy caterpillars to fly off his face. “Is that right? Never thought I’d see the day that smooth-talking bastard would become a one-woman man.”
I laugh. “I keep hearing that. Life is funny that way.”
He grunts. “Ain’t that the damn truth.”
Relaxing in the chair, he leans back and goes quiet.
The tension around his mouth and eyes relaxes as the fluids do their job.
Leaning back in the chair, I cross my ankles, falling into an easy-care rhythm.
When he begins to lightly snore, I smile.
The poor man’s been pushing himself too hard.
With his coloring improving and his breathing even, I’m able to fully relax.
D’s endeared himself to me. I enjoy his frankness and curmudgeonly behavior. There’s been too much time to think since I arrived. It’s not something I’m used to having. Idle hands are the devil’s plaything, but for me, it’s the first chance to catch my breath in years.
Survival has been all-consuming. That’s all changed.
The money you found will help too. Voices drift toward me.
I stand up and hurry toward them. At the end of the hallway.
I hold a finger to my lips and point to the man behind me.
Shadow, Stone, Wizard, War, and Gambit freeze. Their conversation halts instantly.
“Everything okay?” Stone mouths.
Nodding, I walk to him. “He just needed a little top off of fluids. Chemo is draining, and he’s been busy lately.”
His brow wrinkles. “Is he going to be okay?”
The concern in his voice makes me like the man even more. “For now. I think so. But he needs to rest.”
“Shit,” Stone whispers.
“Ain’t she available?” War asks quietly.
“What? Me?” I glance around the group surrounding me in a semi-circle.
“We need eyes and ears. She’s neutral enough, right?” War’s dark gaze holds a challenge. What the hell do you want from me? Gambit’s forehead is creased, and his lips are pressed thin.
“I don’t want to impose on you, brother. But she’d be the perfect solution,” Stone adds.
“We just going to trust a woman who appeared out of thin air?” Wizard scowls.
I gulp. Man has a point.
“She already proved she can hold her own against cops,” Stone says.
“You have a better suggestion?” Shadow asks.
“Do I get a say in any of this?” I ask.
“Yeah. Discuss it with your man and get back to us tonight. You degenerates are dismissed for the day.” Stone pats Gambit on the shoulder before walking away from the rapidly disbanding group.
Shocked, I wait for his response. How the hell did I get put into the center of things? The air between us is charged as we walk down the hallway to the dorm room. We enter and he shuts the door.
“Can I trust you to do this?” Gambit asks.
The question hurts. “What?”
“You hung me out to dry before. It fucked with my mental for years. You can’t fake on this.”
I open my mouth to defend myself. Tell him the truth. Ignoring the voice in my head, I swallow. “I get it. I’m not stupid. I know the type of men you run with.”
“Honest, loyal people who defend the ones they care about and speak their mind?”
“Dangerous people who hold themselves and others to a strict code,” I counter diplomatically.
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I didn’t think it was,” I whisper. He holds my gaze, and I sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, Benoit. You don’t have to treat me like I’m an idiot.”
“I don’t know what you are.”
“Are you even trying to?” I snap. What happened to the progress I thought we had made?
“Why should I?”
Shaking my head. I throw up my arms and let them fall, slapping against my legs.
“You expect me to forget our history?”
“No. I want you to judge me for who I am now.”
“How could I even begin to trust what you show me?” He scoffs.
I blink rapidly, dispelling tears. I shrug.
“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before that night?”
Inhaling, I try to formulate words.
Scowling, he shakes his head. “I don’t know why I even bothered to ask. Do this until we find a replacement, and we’ll call ourselves even.”
My throat clogs with all the things I want to explain. “Okay.” I take the coward's way out.
“Okay?”
“No. It’s not but I- I’m not sure what to say.”
“The fucking truth, Rowan. Give it to me straight up—"
“I lied,” I screech. “I fucked up, got scared, and lied. And now that I know all of the facts, I’m not ready to tell you everything ‘cause I’m ashamed.
It’s embarrassing how badly I screwed everything up with my lies.
And it makes me furious. And I think I deserve every bit of anger you have toward me. ”
“What?” His demeanor shifts. I cover my face.
“Rowan.” I step away, refusing to look at him.
“Hey. Stop it.” He tries to pull my hands down, and I fight. “Talk to me, dammit.”
“My mother didn’t leave after you. She left before. I knew I had to stay behind for Betti, and I didn’t want you to give up everything for us.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Rowan!” He rattles off a slew of Cajun cusswords that make my ears burn. “Why the hell would you do that?” His voice rises.
“Because you needed out of that town before it killed you. We both knew it. You’d already waited so long for me. I- I couldn’t.”
“All this time you let me think...” Backing up, he walks to the door. “I need some air.” The door slams behind him, and I hit my knees as my heart cracks all over again.