Chapter Six
Corey
I’m in the shower the next morning, staring at the scars on my wrist. When I lost my brother, I was at my lowest, and the scars are proof of that.
I don’t hate them, though. They show me how far I’ve come since then, and they are evidence that I can survive anything. I’m strong. I’ve hit rock bottom and climbed out of that pit all on my own. Well, with the help of my therapist. No one knows about that part. If they knew...they’d think there was something wrong with me. That I need the help. And while I do, I don’t want anyone to know about it. I know they would be supportive, but I don’t want them to know that I’m a fucking mess. They’ll start to coddle me and that’s the last thing I want.
And it wasn’t just losing Matthew that put me there. I got no support from my mom, who blamed me for my brother being murdered, because I was with him when it happened, and because he was defending me from the men who ended up beating him to death. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I still felt guilty, and kept wondering about the what-ifs.
What if we had gone home earlier that day?
What if I wasn’t at the bar at all? I shouldn’t have been there. I’m not even old enough to drink. But I wanted to be included. I wanted to be an adult.
Maybe the outcome would have changed.
Maybe my brother would still be here.
Every time I see a big blue butterfly, I always think it’s him.
And I’ve seen a few recently.
My thumb runs along my wrist absently, and I get lost in my thoughts. Grief is a slippery slope, and one thing I’m learning is that it never truly goes away, you just learn how to deal with it better. I have been better, though. I don’t talk about it every single time I have a session with my therapist anymore.
And although I know River is always there for me, he’s not the most emotional person, and he has this superpower of burying everything and getting on with his life. Nothing touches him, or at least that’s how it appears.
Sometimes I wish I could be more like him, but I don’t ever want to forget Matthew, and that pain is a stark reminder of him.
Once I’m dressed and ready to face the day, I head into the kitchen, where Julianna is making Julian a bottle, the adorable baby in her arms.
“Good morning,” I say to him, putting my arms out. Julianna turns around and grins, handing him right over. “Look how cute you are in your little outfit.”
“I know, right?” she replies, staring at his little face with love shining in her pretty blue eyes. “He actually slept through last night, so I feel great. I was going to come and find you—I have a proposition for you.”
“What is it?” I ask, raising my gaze from Julian to her.
“I was wondering if you’d like to come and paint a mural at the new clubhouse. There’s a big, blank wall, and I think it would look amazing if you brightened the place up a bit. We will pay you for your work, of course.”
I knew that Julianna and Romeo had bought a place for us all to move into together, but I haven’t seen it yet. The thought of being paid for my art warms my soul. I never needed recognition, but this feels like a step in the right direction. Maybe this is what I’m meant to do.
“Are you kidding me? I’d love to,” I reply, smiling widely. “What do you want it to be?”
“Anything you want, but maybe something Angels and Devils themed,” she replies, winking at me. “Be as creative as you like. When can you start?”
“Tomorrow? I’ll go and get everything I need today,” I say, my mind exploding with ideas and possibilities.
“Sounds perfect.”
This is exactly what I need right now, something to occupy my mind and time. And art is like therapy to me.
I hand Julian back to his mom, and head straight to the art supply store to pick up some extra paint, brushes, and accessories. I don’t know exactly what the mural will be, but I know it’s going to have a badass motorcycle on it. After I load everything back into my car, I go back into the mall to get an ice cream, and then find myself in a beautiful crystal store. After eying an amethyst piece, I step back and knock into someone.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, turning around to apologize, my eyes widening when I realize who it is.
Rosalind.
Julianna’s younger sister, and not someone I would call a friend. In fact, the bitch is one of the people who kidnapped me. Seeing her again for the first time since the incident happened sends it all coming back to me.
The feeling of helplessness.
The darkness.
The fear.
Panic.
I fight against it.
Motherfucker.
“Corey,” she says, dragging out my name. “Come to check out my new shop?”
I glance around. Okay, if she wants to pretend like nothing happened, I can play that game. It’s that or get arrested for beating the shit out of her. “This is yours? Nice to see you’ve found a new career path—the whole villain thing wasn’t working out on you.”
She smirks and picks up the crystal I was admiring. “My parents bought it for me. I think I’ve found my new calling. Here, take this as my apology. I used you to try to get my revenge, and I’m sorry.”
She opens my palm and places the amethyst in it, closing my fingers around it. “I don’t want any drama. I’m moving on with my life.” She spreads her arms out, showing off her shop. “As you can see.”
As she disappears behind the counter, I put the crystal down and get the hell out of there, because there’s no way I’m taking anything from her betraying ass. Her hatred for her older sister started when Julianna fell in love with Romeo, who Rosalind used to sleep with. Julianna had no idea about their past, as it was all kept hidden.
But some people just can’t let things go.
As I ponder that thought, I get back into my car and take a few deep breaths before the drive back to the clubhouse. I’m a mess.
When I’m unloading the things from my car, Damon walks up and, without saying anything, starts to carry some of the cans of paint. I appreciate the help, and I don’t have the energy to fight with him right now.
“Those can stay in the car,” I explain, turning to him. “But thank you.”
He nods and takes the bags from my hands instead. “I hear you are trying to make the new clubhouse look prettier.”
“Something like that,” I murmur as he closes the trunk and follows me back inside. “And you know I love a good art project.”
“Yes, yes I do,” he replies in an amused tone. “I guess that means we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
I pause in my step for a second before I continue. “Why would you be there?”
I thought it wasn’t ready for anyone to move into yet.
“I moved in—I’m setting up the security at the new clubhouse.”
Does that mean I’m going to have to see him with his girlfriend?
Fuck.
I’m supposed to be clearing my head, not fucking it up further.
“I guess so. I mean, I’ll be pretty busy,” I say, wincing at my own unconvincing tone. He follows me to my room and puts the bags down on my bed, then decides to take a seat on top of my black cotton quilt like he lives here.
He takes up a lot of space in my room, and I suddenly don’t know what to do or say.
“What?” I end up blurting out. “What do you want?”
He arches his brow, gray eyes dancing with amusement. “We can’t have a conversation in your bedroom?”
I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I suppose we can. What did you want to talk about exactly?”
“You look beautiful today,” he says, surprising me. “Green is definitely your color.”
My fingers run down my maxi dress, and then land on the bangles on my wrist. “Thank you. Damon—”
“And your hair like that...” he comments, eying my red locks.
Okay, this is getting weird.
I’m about to ask what the hell he’s on when he stands, flashes me a panty-dropping smile, and exits my room, leaving me with my jaw dropped and wondering what just happened.
If mixed signals were a person, it would be Damon.
The next morning, I’m returning from my walk when I see River and Romeo standing outside by their bikes, deep in conversation. I can see the tension practically radiating off of River. When Romeo heads inside, I approach River and give him a hug.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, reading his mood.
He sighs and looks out over the clubhouse. “There’s another MC in town, and it looks like they’re making themselves comfortable. Damon has eyes on them right now.”
I purse my lips. “Why is Damon out there?”
River studies me a little too knowingly and shifts on his feet. “He’s our new sergeant at arms, so he’s going to be more involved in everything.”
My eyebrows rise. “I see. So basically, he’s out there putting himself in danger to prove himself worthy of the title?”
My brother’s jaw tenses. “He’s a biker, Corey. We’re always in danger.”
Maybe.
But realization hits me that he’s my biker.
I open my mouth, then close it. “There’ve been other MCs around before. Why is this one so different?”
River considers my question. “They’re a wild card. We know nothing about them. And with the 1%, you never know what to expect.”
“What is 1%?” I’ve been around bikers my whole life, but they’ve never really explained anything to me. Matthew used to hide the dealings of the club from me, but River is very honest. He treats me like an adult, something I don’t take for granted.
“The 1% are motorcycle clubs who operate outside the law. The Devils were not necessarily 1%, but we weren’t law-abiding. But the Angels became more law-abiding over the years. And now that we’ve merged, we’re definitely farther from the 1%.”
“Wait, I’m confused. What does ‘operate outside the law’ mean? Like you do illegal stuff?”
River just gives me a look. And I internally smack myself on the forehead. Duh, Corey.
“Dumb question. Got it. Anything else I should know?”
“Be extra safe. Don’t make new friends,” he says, leading me back inside the clubhouse. “But we’re not in lockdown or anything. We’re just going to watch and wait and make a plan on getting them the fuck out of here. We don’t trust them yet, so I want you to be on guard if you meet anyone new.”
I nod, grateful that River is including me.
Damon is in the thick of this new mess, and I have to wonder if that’s why he’s keeping his distance.
Although he still had time for fucking Melinda, so there’s that.
But pissing off River right now wouldn’t be in his best interest, not when he’s working his way up the MC ladder.
The timing isn’t right, but I suppose it never has been.
Maybe it never will be.