Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was so weird that we’d kind of decided to be together, and yet, we’d had sex once, and mostly just snuggled together at nights.
Was it because we’d been friends first? Was it somehow making things better, or was it getting in the way of us being more?
I was confused as hell, and distracted the whole way to the clubhouse the next morning, which wasn’t exactly conducive to staying safe on the roads, with all the assholes taking risks to get to wherever the hell they’re going five minutes faster, because apparently that’s more important than getting there alive.
Glory also had the fucking nightmare again last night, and I was losing my mind over it, because how the hell could I help her if she couldn’t get past how he’d hurt her?
“Prospect?” Micro grabbed my arm and dragged me to his office, closing the door with his foot as he guided me into the chair.
“You rode here like this?”
“Huh?”
He slapped the back of my head, which admittedly helped to shift a little of the fog, and then he shoved a black coffee in front of me.
“You hungover, or is this something else?”
He sat on his desk, narrowly avoiding kicking me in the shins as he did so. He looked worried though, so I didn’t bother bantering, and gave it to him straight.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Pres.”
He tilted his head. “Here or at home?” I’d expected a snarky response, but he was fully in father mode, and maybe that’s what I needed right now. My own wasn’t around anymore, so maybe that’s what I was looking for with a club. A father figure who cared when I was fucked in the head.
“She’s still having the nightmares, and I don’t know how to help her.”
“That’s Lissa’s job, and hers. You can support her, but she has to get through this herself.
Trust me, I’ve been there, and it takes time.
Even when things are resolved, it takes time for that to actually happen in here,” he tapped his forehead, “and even then, our dreams will do whatever the fuck they want.”
I hadn’t expected him to be so logical this early in the morning, or at all, especially with all the stuff he was dealing with, having a club to run, and a wife and baby at home.
I dragged a hand down my face, and gulped the piping hot coffee, meaning to tell him he didn’t have to worry about me, and all that jazz. But instead all I said was, “Ow.”
Micro snorted. “Glad to see you’re making good decisions at least. Dickhead.”
I really couldn’t argue with that. What was I thinking?
“While you’re crying over your burnt mouth, let me tell you what I think.
You’re a good person. You have a big fucking heart, and you’re always trying to help everyone around you.
That’s why we gave you a chance here. That’s why this prospect thing is damn near over.
You’ve proven yourself time and time again.
Not because you threw money at the club when we needed it with those housing options, but because you threw yourself into it to defend our colours.
Because you’ve supported other brothers through shit, and because you threw a damn good night out last night.
You’ve more than proven you’re Phoenix material, brother.
I just think that you need to get your own house in order now.
She needed you and you stepped up. You’re giving her everything she needs right now, so just give it time.
Stop expecting things to be perfect right away, because the chances are they never will be.
Perfect is an illusion. An ideal we’re all encouraged to strive for, but you know what?
Almost perfect is what you want. Will you argue over shit?
Sure. Will she get cranky once a month? Obviously.
Will you get pissy about stuff like a little bitch… I mean, the chances are good…”
“You were doing well until that,” I pointed out and he grinned.
“Hey, I speak good sense, but I’m still me.
I have to have my fun. Here’s the key thing.
You’re in. You’re one of us. I’ll get that underway for you, but your focus needs to be on her right now.
She wants to cry, you hold her. She wants to scream and break things, give her an outlet for that, even if it’s your face.
It won’t make you any less pretty, I promise.
Aw, you flipped me off, that’s adorable.
She’s safe now, so just be patient with her while she takes time to understand that. ”
I sighed, sipping the coffee tentatively, and nodding, my head still hanging low.
“I get that. I mean, I feel like I’m doing that.”
Micro kicked his feet against the desk idly. “Are you though? Or are you doing the exact opposite, and getting frustrated?”
Hell, how could I even answer that? I didn’t honestly know which one I was doing. Was I being impatient? Was I expecting too much too soon?
“You’re fucking, I assume?”
My head shot up, and I glared at him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, she’s been through a nightmare, and she’s healing.
You’re hopefully not just a tool she’s using for that process, but whether this goes further or not in the long term, she needs to know you’re still going to be there as her friend.
Right now she could be living in fear of losing you if those feelings aren’t real.
Technically you two fucking right now could be classed as a rebound. ”
Jesus. He was right.
“When did you get so smart, Pres?”
He shrugged, grinning widely as he hopped off the desk and moved around it to sit down.
“Always been smart, and I keep telling you all, just no fucker believes it. So, Grease is looking into your friends, Grimm and the others. I’m open to a connection there, but nobody else is getting in without some prospect time.
It’s not enough to just know the facts, I have to see how people behave when it counts.
I’m sure you get that, since it’s how you just proved yourself.
I’m open to it being short term prospect phases for guys already in the life, but I’m not letting in any bad seeds. ”
Fair. I nodded, and he continued.
“I like the club very much. Soph already wants to go back, and I have a feeling that’s going to become a regular haunt for us guys. Ha. See what I did there? Haunt. I really am smart.”
And now he’s a dickhead again.
“Smart-ass, you mean. So when am I getting this thing off, and a real one on?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “A real one? Wow. Did you not get the point of the prospect cut at all? Maybe you need another few weeks.”
“Fucker! You know what I mean.”
Micro grinned, opening up his tablet and swiping the screen.
“I’ll get with Harley and get something arranged. Not gonna be pretty with this place still half built.”
But it was happening, and that’s what fucking counted.
Glory
Iwas sitting in the panic room, chatting with Lissa and Lenore on a three-way call. Something that had all of us giggling at first.
“They went into that much detail?” She rolled her eyes. “They’re such bellends.”
Lissa was grimacing at the things I probably shouldn’t have said over the phone, but we’d been assured this was a secure connection, something that the likes of Ice and Grease, and that person called Nige, were all capable of putting in place.
“It should have stopped the nightmares though, right?” I was frustrated as hell, because I felt better in myself.
I felt like I was moving on, and then those fucking dreams took me right back there.
Last night Sean didn’t just kill Henley, but he took me with him and things went back to how they were, with me being his favourite thing to break.
“You went through years of trauma, Glory, those things don’t heal in minutes, or hours,” Lissa said gently, while Lenore nodded, “something that happened for years could take years to heal. It doesn’t mean it’ll always be like this, but it could take months before the nightmares stop.”
Great. Months? That’s bad enough, but years? God no.
“What can I do to speed that up, though? I’m not looking to ruin every night with poor Henley like this.”
Lenore visibly bristled at that, and Lissa fought to hide her smile, because they were just getting to know each other, but she already knew Lenore was a fists first kind of woman protector, and this was step one.
“If he’s pressuring you-”
“My god, of course he isn’t. He’s being incredibly sweet and patient, as he always was. I just feel like I’m bringing so much drama to his life. He’s a simple kind of man, not unintelligent, just likes things easy and calm.”
“Don’t we all,” Lenore murmured, and Lissa grinned suddenly.
“Yet you work for those two… men…”
Lenore laughed, lifting her hands. “What can I say? I like beating up dickheads.”
Lissa sobered again and I knew her focus was back on me, which was really starting to feel like way too much pressure. Perhaps this three-way call wasn’t the great idea I’d thought it would be.
“Glory, you’re making remarkable progress, and I know you want to keep seeing that keep improving, but the fact is that healing comes with ups and downs-”
“And not the good kind,” Lenore interjected.
“Sadly not, at least not always. You’re going to have better days, and you’re going to have days where things are pressing down on you again.
It’s okay to feel those things, because how can you move past them if you keep pushing them aside?
They don’t go away. Human nature seems to be to avoid pain, but it’s a natural part of life-”
“Especially for women,” Lenore interrupted again.
“And, as I was saying, we go through the pain so we can come out the other side and focus on healing. You had more pain than anyone should, so now’s your time to focus on the healing.
I’m sorry to say this, but Henley isn’t your priority.
You are. He’ll be there no matter what, he’s made that clear, so you need to focus on healing for YOU.
Getting past things for YOU. Getting back to what you love, the things you enjoyed before they were taken from you.
You didn’t choose to give up your life, it was taken, but now you have it back.
Use it. Live, learn, scream when you have to. ”
She hesitated then, as if she expected another Lenore interruption, but the blonde woman was simply nodding in agreement.
“He suggested I speak with Rocket, because we’re both artists, or at least… I was. I was an artist and tattooist, but… but Sean said tattoos are for thugs and whores.”
I took a breath and lowered the collar of my shirt, so they could see the scarring that remained from the tattoo removal. They both frowned, leaning closer.
“He insisted on mine being removed. They were a part of me, but he said he wouldn’t marry a whore. I loved him so…” I glanced down as I rearranged my shirt, “so I gave in. I let him erase parts of me that can never be resurrected. They’re gone.”
Lenore was grumbling under her breath, so Lissa spoke over the sounds.
“They’re not gone. They’re still a part of you, whether others can see them or not.
I hate that you were forced to erase the statements you’d made about yourself, the ink you chose, because it told your story.
You’re writing a new story now, and your body is yours and only yours, Glory.
Let that side of you back out, and remind yourself that you’re strong, and beautiful, and you own your skin. ”
“Kinda want to peel his off again,” Lenore muttered, and Lissa and I exchanged a horrified look.
“Peel it off?”
Lenore grinned wickedly.
“You don’t want to know, but men only scream so high when certain parts are skinned, ya know?”
Oh god. She meant his… she meant… I wanted to gag, but I didn’t want to show that kind of weakness. Why didn’t I want to? They weren’t going to judge me for it. Or… did I not really want to gag? Was I secretly revelling in this new information, this new horror he experienced?
“You don’t have to hold back what you’re feeling with that rather graphic revelation,” Lissa prompted gently, so why not, right?
“I thought I was horrified, but when I thought about how that knowledge made me feel, I realised I’m more twisted than I thought. I think I’m glad he suffered that way. I feel like men use their junk to control and abuse women so much that I’m glad his were tortured. Is that sick?”
They both shook their heads, and I turned my head as I heard a door close upstairs. Henley was back, and I was so looking forward to seeing him.
“Everything okay?”
“Henley’s home. He won’t come in here and interrupt us though.”
“He’s a good man. I’m learning that very quickly, and I’m glad. Whether he’s just a friend, or more, he’s a good person to trust.”
“But if he abuses that trust, let me know. I have a new knife I want to try out.”
“Lenore!”
We ended the call, and I headed upstairs, surprised to see Henley on his phone, although his face lit up as he saw me, and he strode across the hall to me, pressing his lips against my forehead.
“Just a sec. Sweetheart, I need to finish this call, then I’ll sort dinner. Think about what you fancy, or if you want to go out to eat.” He grinned and headed for his office, the door closing almost all the way behind him. Not shutting me out, just being discreet.
His business kept him busy, so I wasn’t surprised he had things to do.
I idly glanced at the food in the cupboards or in the fridge, while I considered what I wanted.
As I eyed the flour and eggs, a smile crossed my face.
I did fancy something, and Sean would have denounced it as ridiculous, and too unhealthy for someone of my ‘build’, but fuck it.
I can have what I want now. That’s what everyone was telling me.
Henley could join me, or we could make something else for him.