Chapter 11
ROOK
Fuuuuuuuuuuck!
I screamed as loudly as I could until my ribs throbbed. I collapsed on my knees in front of Lake Ontario, my body shuddering.
Nothing I did was right. Every time life was finally working in my favor, it changed directions. Two steps forward, one back. No, fuck that. It was one step forward, ten back. I wasn’t progressing.
I rubbed my face and gazed at the glittering water, the afternoon sun’s reflection dancing with the ripples of the lake. An elderly woman walked in front of me, eyeing me suspiciously, but she didn’t bother to ask if I was all right before she kept marching on with the poodle she had on a leash.
Story of my life. No one cared about me.
No. PD cared, and I pushed him away.
Why did I yell at him? It was as if I was having an out-of-body experience. I could see myself getting mad and screaming, but I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t in control. But that was no excuse. I needed to do better.
PD had warned me about the license more times than I could count, but I’d brushed him off every time. Now I was reaping the consequences.
I slapped the heel of my palm against my forehead so hard it hurt, but I welcomed this pain. “Fucking stupid. Fucking idiot. What the fuck?”
“Are you okay?” a timid voice asked from behind me.
I glanced toward the man who’d interrupted my tirade. He was beautiful, with long wavy brown hair and green eyes the color of fresh leaves. He had beauty spots scattered across a soft face and pouty lips, and there was something familiar about him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what.
“Fine.” I looked back toward the lake, hoping he’d go away.
“Will, right?” The young man shifted in front of me.
I frowned up at him. “Yeah. Do I know you?”
He thrust out a hand. “Presley. We’ve met here and there when you came to get a cut at Barber’s. I work in the hair studio next door. Quain’s my boss.”
I hesitated, his name not ringing a bell. Regardless, I shook his hand. “Right. Sorry, I can’t remember you.”
“It’s fine. I’m a little insulted because I thought I was the type of person someone remembered.” He winked and sat down beside me, crossing his legs under his body in a meditative pose that made my knees hurt just looking at him. “Are we having an existential crisis?”
I sat back on my legs and scrunched my nose. “No, I . . . . Wait, why are you here?”
He shot me a grin. “It’s nice to get fresh air. The lake’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, but why here? You barely know me.” I gestured around us. “There’s plenty of places for you to sit.”
“Oh, I’m wasting time until someone gets here. I called Quain, who I’m sure called Barber, who then got into contact with another one of your friends to come get you.” He shrugged. “I was concerned.”
“What?” I blinked at him. “I’m not trying to do anything wrong.”
“No, you’re not. You wouldn’t be here if you were, but you need a friend, and as you said, I barely know you outside of a few hellos.” He tilted his head. “But Quain likes you and I like the boss, so I want to make sure you’re okay before I leave.”
“I’m not a fucking baby,” I snapped.
Presley didn’t seem too upset with my sharp tone because he nodded.
“No, you’re not, but you don’t have to be to need friends when you’re sad.
And you’re sad, buddy. I’ve been there. Sad and needing friends.
So, I’m giving back.” He pointed a finger at me.
“And so we’re clear, I am very rememberable. So don’t forget me this time.”
I groaned. “This whole city has it out for me.”
“No, you just have very good friends who love you.” His smile turned sad. “You’re lucky. Not everyone has that.”
I sighed and shifted to my ass, my knees aching from sitting on them for too long. I stretched out my legs and lay down on my back, staring up at the tree branches, briefly wondering if one would crack and fall down on top of me. That was the type of day I was having.
Presley lay next to me and turned his head toward me, smiling. “It must be cool to be in an MC.”
I snorted. “It was, until I crashed my bike and fucked up my body.”
“Hmm.” Presley’s hair haloed his head, giving him an angelic appearance.
He was far too pretty for me, I preferred PD. Only PD, with his tattooed canvas of a body and his buzzed hair and crooked smile, and hell, even that stupid fucking bowler hat that I’d hated at first, then began to love the more he’d worn it.
“Well, this isn’t a movie. I’m not going to give you a monologue about how you can do this.” He chuckled. “What do I know about accidents and learning how to live with permanent injuries? I’m just a hair curator.”
“Is that what they call hairdressers these days?” I snarked.
His laughter deepened. “No, I’m special. I believe the other guys prefer stylist. But I pride myself on setting trends.”
“Noted,” I drawled, the corner of my mouth flicking up. He was quirky.
“My point is, it seems lonely to do it by yourself. If I was in your position, I’d want those friends to help.”
“You’re getting preachy. Did Quain send you?”
He laid a hand on his chest and laughed again. “No. Have you met that man? He’s the cuntiest person who ever lived one day, then the sweetest human being the next. Also, what does he see in Barber?”
“That’s what I asked him. So, what are you then, my guardian angel?”
“Try the devil on your shoulder,” he hit back. He chuckled at his joke. “Nope, I was just strutting my way through a nice outing when I saw you and decided you needed help. The yelling certainly gave me that impression, anyway.”
I sighed and brushed a hand over my face. “Yeah, sorry ’bout that.”
“Don’t be. Now you get to remember me. Lucky you.” He nudged me with his elbow and grinned. “You forget me again, it’s over, buddy. We can’t be friends. Trust me, that’s your loss.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Gotcha. Don’t forget the name Presley or I’ll regret it.”
“While I’m here, you want to talk?” He watched me with those deep green eyes, a natural kindness making me feel understood.
It shouldn’t have made sense to talk to a stranger—because that’s what we were—but maybe that was what I needed.
Bullshit with someone who didn’t know me personally.
He wouldn’t judge me the way a good friend would.
“My life’s pretty fucked.”
“How?”
Laughter farther away filled the air around us, and I closed my eyes, imagining the better times when I used to let loose.
I’d taken it all for granted and wasted my life, thinking there was always tomorrow.
Then, the accident happened and it was close to being no tomorrow for me.
We were in a motorcycle club. I hadn’t expected to live forever or even to old age, but I didn’t want to die so fast, either.
“After I had the accident, everything changed. I have no control over my emotions, especially my anger. I get so mad at my club brothers. They treat me like I’m weak and they don’t trust me to have their back.
” Why was it so much easier to open up to a stranger?
“But they’re right. I’m not the same person.
I need to get my shit together, but it’s not easy, you know?
Not easy to admit everything’s different and I have to restart my life.
I can’t just begin where I left off before the accident. It doesn’t work that way.”
I exhaled and gnashed my teeth.
“Small things that I never second-guessed, like my license. I gotta fucking get my license redone. How fucked is that?” I snorted out a sardonic laugh. “I can’t even walk straight. I got balance issues. It’s stupid.”
I brushed a palm over my face and closed my eyes, wishing all my problems would disappear. Nobody understood, not even PD. He wasn’t the one who’d lost control of his emotions or who had to have physical therapy or who had to get his license again.
“It is stupid, you’re right.” Presley gave me a soft smile and nudged my shoulder with his.
“And it’s not fair, but life’s not fair.
You’re allowed to feel angry at the circumstances.
Man, I’d be mad, too. But you have two choices, you can either let it defeat you and push everyone you love away and live a lonely life where you shrivel up and die and think about all the things you were before the accident.
Or.” He paused and sat up, staring down at me.
“You can make the most of being alive. You can make your friends and family understand while working with them. You can get your license again and take back what you lost. You won’t ever be the same person, Will, but none of us are ever the same person.
We grow and change every day.” He shrugged.
“And looking at you and what you’ve survived already .
. . . You look like the type to fight. So, do you want to give up or fight for what you want? ”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s quite the motivational speech.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, well, I’ve been fucked over in my life, too. Not like anything you’ve been through, but I’ve had people hurt me and make me want to give up.”
“Yeah? What changed your mind?”
His grin turned feral. “Revenge. Nothing makes a person more motivated than anger and retribution.”
I cocked my head, completely taken aback. He looked so sweet, but his words came with a venomous rage I hadn’t expected. “I feel sorry for whoever’s on the other end of your fury.”
He nodded. “Cheaters, mostly. I enjoy ruining their lives.”
I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but the deep rumble of a motorcycle’s engine filled the air around us.
I shoved myself to my ass and turned to look toward the parking lot near the trail, then sighed when my gaze caught Jester.
The deep red of his Fatboy gleamed in the sun.
Despite the bike being a big beast, it fit Jester’s width and size perfectly.
“Well, that’s my ride.” I stood at the same time as Presley and gave him a short nod in appreciation. “Thanks for the life advice.”