Chapter 13
ROOK
Jake laid a thin layer of adhesive film over my new tattoo.
He’d done amazing work, the text I’d asked him to ink a beautiful swirly font that gave it a whimsical feel.
I didn’t know if PD would enjoy it, but I hoped he would.
Controlling my anger was difficult, but it was no excuse.
I had to train myself, especially around people I loved.
I sighed and rubbed my cheek. Fuck. I needed to do some serious apologizing.
While I’d gone to a physical therapist, it’d been suggested by my docs to go to a psychologist, too.
I’d brushed off the idea. Who needed that shit?
But apparently, I did. If I couldn’t control my outbursts, then maybe I needed someone to teach me how.
My brain had changed and I needed to do something new.
“There.” Jake stood from his rolling chair, stretching his back as he gave me a grin. “All done. Wasn’t it worth the time we spent picking it all out?”
I nodded and rose, staring down at my new tattoo before grabbing my shirt and yanking it over my head. My cut went on next, and the new ink pulled slightly at my skin, making me wince. “It’s awesome, dude. Thanks.”
Jake carded his fingers through his dark hair and a ring on his left hand gleamed.
I knew he was married, but there was an extra piece of jewelry alongside his other gold ring.
This one was made from the same metal, but on it were three diamonds.
It wasn’t hard for me to figure out why.
Jake had a husband, Declan, but a few years into their marriage, they’d brought a third man into their relationship when they both fell in love with him. Now they were all together.
I pointed at the new ring. “Is that from Logan?”
Jake glanced down, his face turning all soft and loving. “Yeah. Legally, we can’t marry him, which is fucking stupid, but he’s our husband, despite what the law says. We had a private ceremony and shared vows with him.”
My heart twinged. That was what I wanted with PD—happiness and commitment.
If I stopped shoving my foot in my mouth, maybe I’d get that.
Instead, I was a walking disaster. He was better off without me, but I was too stubborn to let him go now that I had him.
How long would it take before he decided he’d had enough of my mood swings?
“Congratulations,” I murmured, and Jake smiled wider as he led me to the cash register. I tapped my card when the machine was ready and gave him a tip, too. “Do you think PD will be back?”
Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he yanked his phone from his pocket. “He normally checks in by now if he plans to close up himself.”
The door slammed open, and I turned, ready to greet PD, but I paused in surprise at the sight of Mom.
She came storming inside, her shoes stomping on the floor louder than an elephant charging an enemy.
When the woman had something in her head, nothing would get in her way.
Apparently, I’d held off calling her for too long.
As soon as she caught sight of me, her eyes narrowed and she stalked toward me, raising her finger to poke me in the chest in the way she always used to, but when she got close, she hesitated and dropped her hand.
“William John Gardner!” She slapped her hands on her hips, jaw tightening. She was as bright as usual in her favorite yellow overalls. “Why haven’t you called me? Your own mother! I’ve been sick with worry.”
I glanced at Jake in embarrassment, but he was already withdrawing, his lips pressed together as though holding in a laugh. My cheeks warmed. Fuck. Mom knew how to make a show for everyone to enjoy, and I happened to always get caught in it.
“Mom, stop.” I groaned.
“I will not.” She stamped her foot and her eyebrows furrowed. “How could you not call me?” Her bottom lip wobbled, and I saw tears coming if I didn’t cut her off fast.
“Mom, I’m fine.” I glanced at Jake again, but he’d retreated to his workstation to give us privacy—not that we could get any with how loud Mom talked. “Can you stop? Fuck. This is why I don’t call. It’s all dramatics with you.”
Her eyes widened and the tears spilled.
I sighed and stepped forward, laying my hands on her shoulders. She was so much shorter than me. “Mom, don’t cry.”
“You’re all I have left,” she sobbed, blobs of tears escaping and sliding down her reddened cheeks. “Your dad—” She buried her face in her palms, weeping.
Guilt churned in my stomach, and I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and bringing her against my chest carefully.
We lost my dad when I was twelve. He was killed in a motorcycle accident, and it was through him I’d found my love for bikes.
He’d been in a motorcycle club back in Erie, where Mom currently lived.
I’d moved to New Gothenburg for college and to get away from Mom.
“I know.” I brushed my hand over the back of her head, stroking her hair comfortingly. Sometimes it felt like I was the parent. “It’s okay. I’m alive, all right? PD’s been taking care of me.”
“PD!” She snorted and shoved away from me, eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms. “He’s keeping you from me. I know he is. I told him so, too.”
Surprise battered me into taking a step back. “You talked to him?”
“Of course I did.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I went to your house first. Told him what I thought about him, too. He had a backpack and was ready to leave. How is that looking after you?”
“Leave?” My breath caught and it took every inch of my effort to exhale. Panic built beside anxiety, and my hands began to shake. “He was leaving the house?”
“Yes. That’s what I said.” She waved an impatient hand. “I’m telling you, Will, you’re better off without that man. He hasn’t been taking care of you. Come home to Erie with me, hon. I’m your mom.”
“Stop it,” I snapped, finally letting anger win. Rage bubbled in my stomach. I couldn’t let PD leave. I wouldn’t. I’d fucked up, sure, but we belonged together. If I had to get on my knees and apologize, I would. “PD is my boyfriend.”
She gasped, blinking big brown eyes at me. “What?”
“You heard me.” I grabbed my cap off my head and slammed it against my thigh. “Fuck, Mom. This is why I don’t call. You’re always overreacting. You’re overprotective.”
“I’m your mother,” she hissed, wiping at her tears angrily. One of her red curls bounced against her rounded cheek. “It’s my job to be protective. You’re my only child, you know?”
“Right.” I took a deep breath, then exhaled again.
“But I’m an adult. Yes, I have injuries I’ll live with for the rest of my life, but if I want help, I’ll ask for it.
I can’t have you being overbearing. It drives me crazy.
Just let me live my life. Make my own mistakes and deal with the fucking consequences. Please.”
We stayed locked in a silent battle for what felt like hours before she sighed and rubbed her hands on the overalls. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. You don’t know how it is to be a parent. You are an adult, but you’ll always be my baby. Age doesn’t change that.”
I shoved my cap back on my head and reached out to pull her into a gentle hug, careful she didn’t hit my new tattoo.
“I know and I’m sorry. But PD takes care of me even when I don’t deserve it.
He makes sure I eat. He’s been giving me painkillers when I need them, and he’s been so fucking patient when I wouldn’t have been. He’s good to me.”
She rolled her lips into her mouth, then finally, nodded. “Okay, honey. I believe you. I’m sorry. I’ll apologize, I promise.”
“Good. He doesn’t deserve to deal with two rogue Gardners. One is enough.”
She giggled.
Outside, a car veered in front of the tattoo parlor, taking a vacant spot, and Barber nearly fell out of the passenger door as he opened it. He ran through the door, making the bell jingle loudly, and panted as he came to a stop in front of me.
“Will, man, we need to go. Now.”
It wasn’t often that Barber was serious, but apparently this was one of those times. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he gestured toward the car, where Jester was waiting in the driver’s seat.
My skin prickled with anxiety and my stomach dropped. I wasn’t allowed to go on assignments. Why were they here for me? They wouldn’t be. Unless . . . .
“What’s wrong with PD?” I blurted, already rushing past Mom and toward the car with Barber at my heels. I shoved myself into the back of the vehicle, ignoring the twinge of my ribs at the sharp movement, and Barber flew into the passenger’s seat.
Mom threw open the shop door and watched with wide eyes as Jester tore out of the parking spot in front of a BMW that honked.
“What’s fucking wrong?” I demanded, not bothering to put on a seat belt as I leaned up to the spot between them. “What happened?”
Jester and Barber glanced at each other, and Barber winced.
“Fucking tell me!” I shouted.
“Uhlig has him,” Barber finally said, sending me a sympathetic smile.
“That handsome bastard sent King a message that he has PD. Word on the street is that Uhlig’s money was hit and his men were killed by guys on bikes.
PD was around there on his bike when it went down, and Uhlig’s men are geniuses, so they took him. ”
Panic rose in my chest and my ability to control my emotions slipped away.
Fuck. Why couldn’t I get air?
My grip on the sides of Jester’s and Barber’s seats tightened. “Why the fuck would he think it was PD?” I pushed the words out of my mouth in a jumble, but Barber must’ve understood because he shook his head.
“Don’t know. King’s gonna meet us at one of Uhlig’s properties.
” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Listen, King didn’t want you to come, but we all fought for you, thought you had the right to be there.
PD’s your man. So, keep your attitude in check, all right?
” His smile turned sly. “Only I’m allowed to piss King off into giving me toilet doody. Get it? Doody, not duty.”