Chapter 8 Leo
LEO
I slip my phone into my pocket, and before I leave the compound, I head over to Dog’s room. His door is open, and he’s sitting on his bed, cup of coffee in hand.
I knock. “Hey, man. You got a minute?”
Dog looks up at me and pushes a pair of reading glasses off his face. I have to laugh…these bikers. The old-timers are eighty-percent badass and twenty-percent old man.
If I’m lucky, that’ll be me someday.
“Whatcha reading there,” I ask. “Wall Street Journal? New York Times?”
“Fuck you,” Dog says, holding up his cell phone. “I’m reading a romance novel.”
I shake my head, cracking up. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was.
Dog’s got one of the biggest, most loyal hearts I’ve seen.
What I wouldn’t do to have a dad or an uncle like this guy.
It’s part of the reason why prospecting means so much to me.
These guys are good men. Family men—both inside the compound and out there in the world.
“What you got for me, Prospect?” Dog asks. “Tiny riding your ass again? Need me to put some ointment on your cheeks?”
I laugh. That’s a new one. “No, man. This is an electric question.”
“What kind of electric?” he asks.
Everybody knows that Dog is the one to go to for any electrical problems on our bikes, cars, boats. He was a long-haul trucker for years until he was in a pretty bad accident. He doesn’t work in the business anymore, but he’s probably forgotten more about electrical systems than I’ll ever know.
I explain the situation with the Cadillac. “When I opened the hood, it was clear that some kind of homemade shit was going on in there. Teddy bears, duct tape.”
“What kinda dumb-ass shit you talkin’ about, kid?”
“I’m kidding,” I say quickly, “but not by much.”
“How’s it running if it’s that bad?”
“It’s not. Customer had it towed in, but I honestly don’t know that I even have the skills to get it running again.
I’m supposed to give her an estimate next week.
I told her I’d need a couple days to run some diagnostics, price out some parts.
But what’s going on in there is nuts. I’d love a second opinion. ”
“You want me to come down to the shop, take a look at it?” Dog asks.
“When you can,” I say.
He nods at me, and I return the gesture before getting ready to head in to work. My mind races as I get in the truck and drive over to the shop.
Lia’s got news, but unless she’s found my brother, I’m not in the mood for it. She’s a sweet girl. She tries hard. I know she cares, but I’m not in the mood for sunshine and positive thinking.
As I pull into the parking lot of the building, I have to fight a sudden rush of feelings.
I can’t believe everything I’ve ever worked for I’m going to lose.
A year ago, I went through the same damn thing when this building got taken away because Tim was a year behind on the mortgage.
Gramps left everything in Tim’s name because he was the oldest, and he trusted my brother to take care of me.
I always trusted Tim. Until now.
I’m only glad my granddad never lived long enough to see my brother turn to drugs. Never lived long enough to see my own brother let the only things we had slip through our fingers. I never thought I’d see the day when Tim would not only let me down, but that he’d screw me.
I’m so worked up over the fact that all of this is going away, that I’m getting fucked over again by Tim, I don’t have time to think about how I’m going to feel seeing Lia this morning.
But when she rushes up to me, bouncing on her toes before I even get out of the truck, it all comes back to me. “Leo.” She’s flushed and looks so happy to see me.
It’s hard not to feel a little better, but I’m not in the mood for light today. I don’t know how to handle everything I’m feeling. The business, the building. The house. Now her. This.
“Hey.” I nod at her and lock the truck. I walk past her and head toward the shop. She hasn’t unlocked it for me today, and that immediately sets me off. “Why is the shop closed? Have you been covering the phones?”
Her smile fades. “No—I… I—”
I hold up a hand and shake my head. I unlock the door and yank it open, walking away from her fading sunshine.
“Leo?” She follows me into the shop. “Are you angry at me?”
I don’t know what I am.
Yes, I’m angry.
I’m fucking furious.
There’s too much going on, and none of it is shit I can solve quickly or easily. I’m about to be homeless and make Lia homeless too.
My business—or what there is of it—is about to be the only thing I have to my name, and she let the store sit idle while she did God only knows what. She’s a flake, yes, but she’s normally more responsible than this.
“I got to get to work.” I avoid looking at her and start flipping on lights. I turn on my old-ass computer and run some music through the tiny speakers I have set up on the counter. “Let’s talk tonight at home.”
“Leo…” She comes close to me, puts a hand on my shoulder. “Did you get my text? I did some digging, and…”
I shrug away from her touch. “Not now, Lia.”
If I’m not gonna give her a chance to explain, I sure as hell don’t want her touching me. Not now. I have enough confusing shit swirling in my head. I don’t need my body and all the goddamn emotions Lia brings up making this even harder.
The look on her face about fuckin’ guts me.
“Lia,” I say, but my heart’s not in an apology. I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I can’t share this.
Not with her.
It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
She turns and leaves the shop without another word, and somehow that makes me feel even worse.
That night, I whip up the chicken I had planned to make for us last night. Around seven, I head upstairs with two cold beers. A peace offering.
I knock on Lia’s bedroom door.
She opens it and walks away, the invitation to come in implied.
I drop onto the foot of the bed and crack open the beer. “Peace offering,” I say and hand it to her.
She takes it.
“We still doing this?” I ask.
“What?” She’s never been the game-playing type. “Doing what? Losing our house and treating each other like shit for the last few weeks we have it?” She crosses her arms and glares at me. “You tell me, Leo. Is this how you want this to go down?”
“Fuck.” I pop the tab on my beer and down it before I say anything more. “I’m not trying to treat you like shit, Lia.”
“An apology would go a long way for giving me the cold shoulder this morning,” she says.
“Are you gonna eat?” I ask. “Made dinner.”
“Will you be serving apologies? Or should I swallow my chicken down with a helping of fuck you very much?”
“Jesus Christ, woman.” I stand and try to pull her close, but she pulls away.
“You want to hear me say I’m sorry? I am.
I am sorry, Lia. Sorry that I wasn’t excited to listen to you earlier.
Sorry that I’m so obsessed with finding my brother that I can’t do anything but stress out about this house.
Keeping us both from becoming homeless.”
My words don’t sound even remotely apologetic or sorry. And Lia seems to close off more the more I say. I decide to shut the fuck up and leave it be. I can’t fix this for her. I can’t fix this for myself. We’re literally living on borrowed time.
“So, you can’t listen to the research I did? What if I found out something that can help?”
“It won’t help, Lia.” I surprise myself by blurting it out. I run a hand through my hair, trying not to punch a wall, slam a door.
It would be so, so easy to drag this place down to the ground. Make sure both Tim and Arrow get fucked the same way they are trying to fuck me.
“How do you know?” Her voice is quiet. “You won’t listen.”
“Maybe I can’t.” I take the now-empty beer can in my hand and toss it against the wall.
It clatters weakly and falls to the ground, but the noise freaks out the dogs, and they start barking and shaking. Pixie hides under the bed.
“Feel like a man now?” Lia taunts.
“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck all of it,” I say.
“Fuck me too?” she demands, her hands on her hips. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Been there, sweetheart,” I say. “Did and done.”
She looks horrified, offended. “Right. Bang buddies for the win. This feels like a real winning situation right here.”
“Congratulations on shacking up with a loser,” I tell her. “But don’t worry about it. You’re about to be done with all of it. This house, the secrets. Me. You’re about to be free, Lia. Just the way you like it.”
She looks like I’ve punched her in the gut. Her face is red, and her lips are working as if she’s struggling over which words to let out. Not me. I’m not working that brain-to-mouth filter another minute.
If I’m going to lose everything, I might as well end it my way. I’m not going to beg Josh not to take my house. I’m not going to load my problems on to the MC. And I’m sure the fuck not going to drown my sorrows in a woman I can’t have. Don’t have.
I’m done playing Mr. Mom to a roommate and her pack of animals. I’m done pretending that Tim hasn’t hurt me. That losing everything is a chance to start over. I’m done with secrets. With hiding. With everything.
“You wanna eat,” I snap, “Food’s on the table.”
I storm out of her bedroom and down the stairs, load up a plate, and slam my ass into my chair. I open another beer and shovel the chicken into my mouth. It’s probably delicious, but I don’t taste anything. It’s like sawdust in my mouth. I need to focus on every movement.
Bite. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.
Eating without her sucks, plain and simple.
We eat dinner together almost every night, but tonight, staring at the empty chair across from me, Lia’s bare toes missing from their usual perch on the empty chair between us, I want to shatter every plate in the house.
But I keep my cool, eat my food, and listen.
I hear the water running upstairs, and I know Lia’s in the shower. I avoid thinking about her naked, showering the anger and rage away.