Chapter 29
Katarina
The couch was quite soft and comfy, but I slept like shit. So many times during the night, I wanted to slink off the couch and lie next to him. Other times, I wanted to reach down and strangle him.
I also couldn’t get this nagging feeling to go away.
Why did I and Klara seem to think we knew Jeannie?
That didn’t make any sense. When she claimed she just had one of those faces, I thought maybe she favored an actress I’d seen before, or maybe an influencer I’d seen a few times on social media or something.
But Klara said the same thing. She didn’t travel with the ballet, and ever since she left that behind, she was fairly busy with the restaurant.
As far as I knew, Jeannie wasn’t one of those dancers that traveled or had an online presence, not publicly anyway, so it wouldn’t be likely to randomly see her.
Just strange that two women who would seemingly never meet this person would have the same immediate inkling that they recognized her.
A grunt came from the floor, so I didn’t move.
The sound of him stretching was followed by his neck popping. He sat up, his warmth kissing the skin of my cheek. Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to look like I was sleeping and not move.
It took all the strength I had to stay still when he lightly ran his fingers over my cheek. I wanted to lean into his touch. I wanted to pull him over me and let the weight of him crush all the emotions that swirled within.
But while the anger subsided, the hurt was still there– and he didn’t even get it. If I let him hold me now, he’d never understand. He’d think I just had a temper and after we slept it off all would be well every time.
Mama Hen reminded me to be strong, and he was her son. I had to do this not just for me, but for what I needed to become. For what I represented. Maybe I could show him I deserved it.
He lingered a few moments, almost enough to make me break, but he finally stood and went down the hall.
After a few minutes passed, the shower turned on. I waited, knowing his routine and how long it took him to get in once he started the water. I could play possum for a minute here, but he knew me well enough now, too, to know I wouldn’t be able to stay asleep once there were sounds in the house.
Flipping the blanket off after enough time passed, I padded down the hall on my toes even though the water would likely drown out my footsteps. I needed to grab some clothes quickly and head to the clubhouse kitchen. Mama Hen would already be there, and if I left, maybe he’d give me space.
But when I rounded the corner to the bedroom, there he was, standing on the other side of the threshold of the door that was missing the knob and barely hanging on its hinges.
I jumped with a gasp, then rolled my eyes. “I thought you were in the shower.”
“I know.”
Ugh, his smugness was as charming as it was irritating. “I need coffee.”
“Kat,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked. I meant it to come out sharper than it did, but the warmth of his hand was like a balm to my battered heart. While I wanted to know the answer, I didn’t have it in me to argue. Not yet, anyway.
“Look, we both were thrown into this marriage, but you were thrown into this world. It’s not fair of me to expect you to be patient, or even in the dark, about so much. Usually, the ladies learn the ropes from each other and well, some things have to happen organically.”
“So it’s your mother’s fault I’m confused? Or Daisy’s?” Pulling my hand away, I said, “I’m not a child. Please don’t speak to me like one.”
He sighed. “Kat, the patch is sacred. And it’s earned, not given freely. The men out there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the clubhouse, “can prospect for years before even being considered for becoming a patched member. It’s not as simple as a piece of paper.”
“So I’m just a piece of paper?”
“Stop.”
Shrugging, I said, “I’m just looking for clarity, Hawk.
If I understand your expectations of me, of this,” I said, motioning between us, “then I can adjust accordingly. I thought we already figured this out, but perhaps I misunderstood. But like I said, I’m not a child.
I knew what being here could mean. I just wish I’d had all the information. ”
He stepped closer, too close. There was always a pull to him, but when I was this close, just inches from his face, some sort of aura seemed to radiate off him and suck me in even closer.
“Kat, just because you don’t have a patch doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.
You’re so fucking precious to me. You’ve consumed me.
Even when you’re trying to kill me, I fall even harder. ”
“If I was trying, you’d be dead.”
He cupped my face, forcing me to look in his eyes.
“But you didn’t. You keep saying I haven’t been clear, but I’ve communicated with you since you’ve been here.
I never expected to become this person. This man.
I’ve told you how I feel and you’ve seen me come apart over you.
You tell me nothing and you’re mad about something you don’t even understand.
” His hands trembled on my face, sending pressure behind my eyes.
“I don’t get mad at you for not talking to me about your feelings because I thought what we have didn’t need words.
” He sucked in a deep breath, then tilted my face down and pressed his lips to my forehead.
His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I’ve given you my rugged heart and you’re rejecting it over a patch that will be yours. Just not today.”
His hands slipped from my face. My chin trembled as I fought back the lump that bounced in my throat. He finally went to the bathroom, gently closing the door.
Swallowing hard, a tear rolled down my cheek.
I wanted to go to him. But he still didn’t get it.
Maybe I didn’t get it. Wiping my face, I rummaged through the closet and pulled jeans, a t-shirt, and some shoes out.
I threw on a bra then got dressed and ran to the other bathroom to brush my teeth.
We both had extras in there because he always woke up before I did and didn’t want to disturb me, but I joked that I could wake up first one day.
I’d also shoved some hair ties in there when I unpacked, trying to sprinkle little bits of me all over. When I finally was walking out, I stopped and looked at his cut hanging by the door. What was it that I was losing my mind over all of the sudden?
Heading outside, I rubbed my arms as I walked to the clubhouse. The air was cool and the sun hadn’t come up yet.
Walking inside, things were mostly quiet. The music wasn’t on yet. Usually it was even on low when I came to help her prepare breakfast. It was dark and eerie as I made my way to the kitchen.
Stepping inside, only the under-the-cabinet lights were on. I’d beat Mama Hen.
Flipping the lights on, I checked the white board.
Mama Hen had a menu up to keep track of all of the meals.
With that many people living there, you had to have order.
It was like running a bed and breakfast, at least what I imagined it would be like.
It was similar to running the restaurant, but there were tenants, too.
I had made coffee, pulled out all the supplies, and preheated the ovens when the door swung open.
“Well good morning, hon,” Mama Hen said as she shuffled in. “You’re up early.”
I measured dry batter and poured it into the bowl.
“You get any sleep?” she asked.
Cracking eggs into the empty measuring cup, I nodded.
Her hand landed on my shoulder. “Hey.”
My hands went to the counter and my head dropped. “I’m messing this all up.”
“Oh honey, you have to try hard to mess up box muffins.”
I giggled, and she squeezed my shoulder. “I needed that.”
She leaned against the counter so she could see me. “What’s up, hon? Why do you think you’re messing up?”
“I’m fighting with my husband over something that I admittedly don’t seem to understand. And he seemed so hurt. But instead of consoling him, I just left.”
She sighed. “Well, I know my boy, and he can be difficult. You put two strong personalities together and sometimes you’re gonna butt heads. That’s normal. In any marriage.”
“I know. But why does this patch thing bother me so much? He keeps saying I don’t understand. Which,” I said as I threw my hands up, “I don’t.”
“What do you want to know? We talked about it last night. You can ask me anything.”
Turning, I leaned on the counter. “Why don’t I have one? How do you get one? What does it mean? You all told me how you met your men and eventually got the patch, but I don’t understand what I need to do to earn one.”
Her lips formed a line. “Well, you’re not gonna like this, but honestly, there’s no one way for women. It’s up to the men.”
“So it is his fault?” My head dipped again. “Why does he think I’m not worthy?”
She covered my hand with hers. “Is that what you think? That he doesn’t think you’re worthy?”
“Well, why else hasn’t he?”
“Well for one, they all have to vote on it. And not for nothing, but they’re preoccupied with a lot of shit.
Maybe he plans to, but the timing isn’t right.
” She pulled my hand off the counter, cradling it between both of hers.
“Your marriage was arranged, Katya. But here, for us, the patch is like a wedding ring. It’s the symbol that you’re his and the club’s.
And because he’s the president, it means you’ll be a First Lady forever. ”
“But we’re married. And it would be unthinkable to break a deal with my father, and divorcing me would do that. So I’m already his forever. This just makes it feel like he’s leaving room to push me aside.”
Squeezing my hand, she said, “He wouldn’t divorce you, but you could want out. But once you’re patched in, there’s no leaving. No patch, you still have options.”
“But I don’t want options. This is my life. Here. With him. I…”
She grinned. “Does he know that?”