Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
June
The sun came up an hour ago.
I know this because I’ve been staring at the window since the first streak of light crept across the sky, watching it turn from gray to pink to gold.
I glance over at the door for the hundredth time since Journey left, and wish for it to open. I’d give anything right now for him to come strolling in with the too-smug swagger I’m addicted to.
It doesn’t open, of course.
“How long have they been gone?” I ask again.
“A few hours,” Frankie says without breaking eye contact with her computer screen.
“And where did they go?”
My question is met with complete silence.
I glance over to Roxy. She’s been ignoring us since the men left, her attention solely focused on the embroidery loom in her hand. My eyes shift to Foxy, curled up like a cat on the couch. She fell asleep an hour ago with both hands wrapped around her bump.
“Frankie?”
“Journey will tell you if he thinks you should know.”
“Did Bane tell you?”
She shrugs, never taking her eyes off her laptop.
Sighing, I glance back at the door. I can’t explain it, but deep down to my bones, I know this has something to do with what happened earlier.
The look on Tacoma’s face when he pulled Foxy out of the SUV wasn’t a man who planned on filing a police report.
My stomach twists, and I take another sip of my coffee that’s gone cold.
“What if they don’t come back?”
“They’ll come back,” City says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You don’t know that.” He can’t know for sure. Anything could happen to them. The last twenty-four hours prove that. I mean… Jesus. What if those men do something to hurt them? What if they do something and end up in jail?
The thought slices through me like a blade, and I have to set the mug down because my hands won’t stop shaking.
“Relax, honey.” Roxy’s calm voice pulls me out of the spiral.
I glance over my shoulder.
She sets down her needlework and slides off her chair.
“Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.” I don’t know how she can look so calm. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
“How?” I ask, my voice strained. “How can I relax when I don’t even know where they went?”
Roxy’s face softens. “Because worrying won’t bring them home any faster, sweetheart.”
“Gotta trust your man, babe,” Frankie adds from beside me, her teeth working at her thumbnail. Her eyes, which have been glued to her laptop all night, are fixed on the door.
I take another sip of cold coffee and force it down.
“How can I trust someone who clearly doesn’t trust me?” I don’t think I can be the woman who lives in the dark, praying her man will make it home in one piece.
I press my palms flat against the bar and blow out a long breath.
“First time’s always the hardest,” Roxy says gently, and when I look over, she’s watching me with knowing eyes. “It doesn’t get easier, but you learn to breathe through it.”
The first time. Meaning she’s been through this more than once.
I’m not sure I want to learn how to breathe through nights like this. I’m not sure I’m built for it.
Just when I start to think I’m going to lose my damn mind, the lock turns.
My spine goes ramrod straight.
The front door finally swings open and Eagle strolls in first, looking tired but whole. Tacoma is next through the door, his expression carved from granite. Then, one by one, the others file through the door like soldiers coming home from war.
Holding my breath, I scan the lot of them, looking for my man.
Where is he?
I lean sideways on the stool, craning my neck to see around Gator’s massive frame and Bane’s broad shoulders. My heart is hammering against my ribs.
Where the heck is he?
More men filter in, but I don’t see him. Something ugly coils in my belly, until finally he strolls through the door.
Thank the gods.
He’s alive. He’s here.
The coffee mug I’ve been strangling for the last hour hits the bar with a thunk, and I launch off the stool. My Crocs squeak against the concrete floor as I sprint across the common room.
Journey’s gray eyes find mine, and a slow smile spreads across his exhausted face.
He’s whole.
His brows shoot up when he realizes I’m not slowing down. Just in time, he throws open his arms and catches me when I leap.
My legs lock around his waist, and I squeeze my arms around his neck.
“Honey.” I bury my face in his neck, fighting back the tears that want to fall.
His arms band around my back like steel, crushing me against his chest.
“Promise me,” I whisper against his neck, my voice cracking. “Promise me you won’t leave me like that again.”
Journey grunts, his arms tightening. His lips press against my temple, then my hair, then my temple again. But he doesn’t say the words, he doesn’t promise.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold on tighter because right now, having him here is the only thing that matters.
After a long moment, he sets me back on my feet, his hands sliding to my hips. “Come on,” he says, his voice tired. “Let’s go get some sleep.”
I nod, threading my fingers through his. “Okay, honey.”
The warmth of the sun streaming through the blinds onto my face pulls me out of a dreamless sleep. I blink against the brightness, disoriented for a second.
“Honey?” I reach across the mattress. The sheets are cold.
Pushing up on my elbows, I glance around the room.
Journey’s boots are missing from beside the door, and the bathroom is dark and empty.
Where is he?
Sighing, I throw the covers back and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Every inch of my body aches this morning. One thing we didn’t do until hours after coming to bed was sleep. Journey pounced on me like he was making up for lost time. Not that I’m complaining.
Walking gingerly, I pad into the bathroom and handle my morning business. With my teeth brushed and my face clean, I wrestle my hair into a messy bun and pull on my favorite denim cutoffs and a fitted ribbed tank top. Next is my gold hoops and bangles.
“There.” I glance in the mirror. This is as good as it gets today.
Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I head downstairs in search of Journey and caffeine, not necessarily in that order.
The common room is quiet this morning. A couple of prospects are wiping down the bar, and the faint smell of bacon drifts from the kitchen. I follow my nose through the door, and spot two familiar faces sitting at the counter.
“Morning,” I say, sliding onto the stool next to Stella.
“Hey, babe.” Stella smiles, her gray eyes bright despite the early hour. Her blonde hair is pulled back in two neat French braids, and she’s already dressed for the day in jeans and a Deziree’s Boutique tee.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Roxy looks up from where she’s filling a coffee mug.
“Do you guys know where Journey is?” I ask, glancing toward the hallway that leads to the chapel.
Roxy slides the freshly poured coffee across the bar to me. “He’s in church with the rest of the boys.”
I reach for the bottle of creamer and pour until the color is just right. Don’t judge. I like a little coffee with my creamer.
Stella pulls apart a piece of bacon. “He might be in there a while.”
I sigh. I really need to film some more content. My streak isn’t going to maintain itself, and every day I don’t post is a day closer to losing my shot at the Trend Setter Award. The five thousand dollars I desperately need is slipping further and further away.
Although… “Hey, Roxy?” I take a sip and set the mug down. “Is the lockdown over now?”
Roxy pulls a cup from the drying rack and fills it for herself, considering me over the rim. “Yes, honey. It’s over.”
Whoop! A wave of relief washes over me. Thank you sweet baby Jesus.
Don’t get me wrong, the women here have been amazing and I’m beyond grateful for everything the club has done for me, but I need to get back to my apartment.
There is a disaster to clean up, and I’m ready to get back to normal.
I’ve never been one for change. And if I’m being honest, I could use a little bit of space to process the last few days. Things have been moving at warp speed.
A plan forms in my head, and I spin on the stool to face my best friend, plastering on my sweetest smile. “My favorite beautiful bestie.”
Stella’s lips twitch. “Layin’ it on thick there, aren’t ya?” She giggles, popping a piece of bacon in her mouth. “What do you want?”
“Would you be a lamb and drop me off at my apartment on your way to class?”
“A lamb?” She blinks. “Okay, Sheldon.” She rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t get stuck.
I stick my tongue out at her. “You know you love it when I go all Big Bang Theory on you.”
Stella snorts into her coffee. “I do love Sheldon and the gang.”
“So...” I clasp my hands together under my chin. “Will you drop me off?”
She sighs, but I can see the smile she’s fighting. “Yeah. Come on.” She slides off her stool and grabs her bag from the bar.
I hop off mine and turn back to Roxy. “Have a good day, Roxy.”
Roxy waves a dishrag at us. “Have a good day, girls.”
“You too!” Stella calls over her shoulder as we push through the kitchen door and out into the common room.
The Florida heat hits like a hammer the second we step outside. The air is thick with humidity, and the scent of sea and salt from the coast is heavy in the air.
My eyes close for a split second as I breathe it in. After last night, I’m starting to realize I need to be more grateful for the gift the Gods have given me.
“You coming?”
My eyes pop open to Stella smiling at me.
“Yeah,” I nod, matching her smile.
I slide into the passenger seat and pull the door shut. Stella cranks the engine, and we roll toward the gate where Noble waves us through.
I wave back.
“You’re a goof.” Stella laughs.
“What?” I glance over, raising my brows. “I’m a good Southern girl. I mind my manners.”
Stella snorts and says in a deep southern drawl. “And bless their hearts, too, huh?”
I smirk. “Well, of course!” See. My bestie gets it.
We’re both giggling when we pull onto the main road. Then, because I am who I am, my insecurities get the better of me and I start drumming my fingers on my thigh and fidgeting with the bangles on my wrist.
Stella slices her gaze at me. “Spit it out.”
The air rushes out of my lungs. “Is it weird?” The question tumbles out before I can overthink it. “Me and your brother seeing each other, I mean?”
There’s a beat of silence, and I hold my breath.
Stella purses her lips, her head tipping side to side. “I mean, a little bit,” she admits, her nose scrunching the way it does when she’s being completely honest and not sure how it’ll be received. “But I love you both and want you both to be happy.”
The knot in my chest loosens, and I let out the breath I was holding. “I really am happy, Stells.”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand on the console. “I know you are, babe. I can see it all over your face.” She pauses, then adds, “Just remember our deal. No details.”
“No details,” I agree, grinning.
The rest of the drive is easy and by the time Stella pulls up to the curb in front of my building, I feel more at ease.
“Thanks for the ride, babe.” I unclip my seatbelt and lean across the console to wrap my arms around her.
She hugs me back, squeezing tight. “Always.”
As I’m climbing out of the car, one foot on the pavement, Stella calls after me, “Hey! I’ll stop by before I go to work.”
I duck my head back through the open door and beam. “You’re the best, you know that?”
She flips her silvery blonde braid over her shoulder dramatically. “I know.”
I’m going to need all the help I can get cleaning up that apartment, and Stella knows it.
Closing the door, I step back onto the sidewalk and wave as she pulls away from the curb. I watch until her little car disappears around the corner.
I’m thankful for good friends like Stella. That girl has been my rock since the ninth grade, and I honestly don’t know where I’d be without her.
Turning toward the entrance, a familiar sight makes me smile. Mr. McAbee is parked in his folding chair beside the front door, sweet tea sweating on the sidewalk next to him, newspaper open across his lap. I swear the man never deviates from his daily routine.
“What’s shakin’, bacon?” I plant my hands on my hips and give him my biggest grin.
He looks up from his paper and returns it with a grin of his own, spreading his arms wide. “Same ol’, same ol’, baby girl.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “You know what you need, Mr. McAbee? A lady in your life.”
He throws his head back and laughs—a deep, rich belly laugh that makes me laugh too. “Oh, I got a few, darlin’.”
My jaw drops, and I slap my hands back on my hips. “What?” I gasp, scandalized. “Mr. McAbee!”
His eyes twinkle with mischief. “My granddaughters, darlin’. My granddaughters.”
“Ohhh.” My cheeks flush as I let out a relieved giggle. “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I say, pulling open the entrance door.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I had the love of my life. Nobody could ever replace that.”
“She must have been amazing.” I squeeze the top of his shoulder.
“She was.” His eyes shine with love. We could all be so lucky to have a love like that.
“Have a good one, Mr. McAbee.”
“You too, baby girl.”