Chapter 25 #2
Cerberus came running as I dropped down beside her, pulling her into my arms. Her body shook against mine.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders. Her tears soaked through my shirt, hot and wet against my skin.
I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had done this for her before.
She’d been strong for everyone else, but no one had been there for her.
No one had held her while she broke.
I didn’t know how long we sat there huddled together, Cerberus standing guard and keeping the prospects who walked the perimeter from moving closer.
His low growl held them at bay, preventing them from witnessing Rhea’s vulnerability.
Her raw, unfiltered grief. We sat until her sobs turned to soft cries, and her soft cries became sniffles. We sat until she had nothing left.
Until she was empty.
“I’m sorry, Lettie,” Rhea whispered, sitting up and using the hem of her shirt to wipe her nose.
“Why are you apologizing? You should never apologize for grief. I should be apologizing to you. I suspect you’ve allowed everyone to take from you, holding them all up while you withered away.”
“They needed me,” she whispered. The words came out broken. Defeated.
“You needed to grieve. He was your husband.” She didn’t know who he really was, but she deserved to grieve the man she believed he was.
The man she’d loved. The man she’d built her entire life around.
“Your partner, your best friend. The man you loved for most of your life. No one matters more than you right now. We should have been holding you up.”
We shifted on the ground, and the prospects took a step toward us, only to retreat when Cerberus bared his teeth. The sound was vicious. Protective. A clear warning that they weren’t welcome. I climbed to my feet and held out my hand to Rhea. We walked arm in arm back toward the clubhouse.
“I think I’d like to talk to you about something to help me get away,” she said quietly, making sure the prospects couldn’t hear us. Cerberus recognized Rhea’s tone. Someone scared who needed help. And he held back the men who would give away her secret. Their loyalty was to her son, not to her.
Not to the woman who’d given everything and received nothing in return.
“Why don’t you come for lunch tomorrow and we can talk.”
Rhea smiled at me. Her eyes weren’t quite as hollow as they’d been when we started our walk. And her smile didn’t look forced. It didn’t show happiness, but gratitude. Relief. Hope.
When we walked into the clubhouse, Brock and Zeus rushed toward us. Brock pulled me into his arms as Zeus hugged his mother, then pulled back to look at her. His eyes scanned her face, taking in the red-rimmed eyes. The tear-stained cheeks. The raw vulnerability she couldn’t hide.
“Mom, why are you crying?” He glared at me briefly before turning back to Rhea. Suspicion flickered in his eyes. Accusation. Like I’d done something to hurt her instead of helping her finally release the pain she’d been drowning in.
“I’m grieving the death of my husband, Kane. I’m allowed to cry.”
“Of course you are. I just haven’t seen you do it since the funeral.”
“Have you looked?” she snapped.
“What?” Zeus asked. His head snapped back as if Rhea had slapped him.
“I’m drowning, Kane. I need to get away for a while.”
Brock stepped back, tugging me with him, but I shook my head. Rhea needed my support, and no one would stop me from providing it, even if I did it silently. Even if it meant standing against Zeus. Against the president. Against the man who could make my life hell if he chose to.
“What do you mean, Mom?”
“I mean, I want to take a trip. I need to get away from the memories for a little while. I need to find out who I am without your father. Who I am without my husband.”
“Mom—” Zeus started, but Rhea cut him off.
“I wasn’t asking, Kane. You do what you have to do, but I’m leaving in two days.”
Zeus clamped his lips shut and breathed deeply. If I had to guess, he was counting to ten before answering his mother. Trying to control the rage I could see building in his eyes. The need to control. To dominate. To keep everyone exactly where he wanted them.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I just need to go.”
“A prospect has to go with you,” Zeus demanded. Not asked. Demanded. Like she was a possession. Like she didn’t have the right to make her own choices. Like her grief and her pain and her desperate need for freedom didn’t matter as much as his need to maintain control.
“I know,” she breathed.
Two words were all she said, but there was so much there. If only someone took the time to listen. So much resignation. So much defeat. So much acceptance of the cage she’d been living in for decades.
Rhea turned to me, holding out her arms. I walked into them and hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. The words were soft. Grateful. Desperate. She pulled back and said louder, “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch.”
I smiled and nodded, assuring Rhea that her secret was safe with me. That I would help her escape. That I would give her the freedom she so desperately needed. She kissed her son on the cheek and walked down the hall. Zeus turned my way with fire in his eyes.
“What the fuck did you do?” he snarled.
Brock stepped in front of me, snarling back, “Watch your fucking tone, brother.”
“You’re damn lucky the vote already went through.” Zeus stormed off, and Brock didn’t turn around until he’d left the main room.
I crossed my arms over my chest and asked, “What vote?”