Chapter Eighteen
She winced at my words, but didn’t argue for once. She watched me as I sat on my ass like the loser I am, and stewed over my fucking behaviour.
Why did I do it? Why didn’t I just fucking suck it up, and accept that he’d changed, that things had changed, and that it shouldn’t matter anymore?
Maybe because I was a pathetic, petty asshole, who just had to fuck up everyone else’s lives along with mine.
“Get up, Rocket.”
I watched as two pointy boots appeared in front of me, and cast my eyes up, noting for the first time just how fucking sexy she looked in those sprayed-on jeans, and knee high boots.
A leather jacket over some sparkly thing under it.
Her hair was glossy and shining, tumbling onto her shoulders, but her face? Fucking terrifying.
I scrambled up from the floor, and she folded her arms.
“What?”
“We’re going into your room, and you’re going to tell me everything.
” Fuck. My toe caught something, and sent it skittering along the concrete.
My fucking phone. I grabbed it and grimaced at the crack down the screen, but apart from that it was still working.
Fucking fragile phones. They just want you to keep buying new ones.
“Now.”
I did as I was told. Turns out I was good at following orders sometimes. Maybe I should have leaned more into that instead of being a prick all the time.
“Sit.”
I dropped onto the bed, my eyes immediately darting to the corner to Nixie, who was chewing the rubber toy we bought her, that I kinda thought looked like a sex toy. She eyed me over it, but didn’t stop.
V pushed the door closed, and turned the lock, going straight to my mini fridge and checking it. Yes. This time I’d prepared. She grabbed two beers, popped one open and passed it to me.
“I’m waiting.”
I watched her as she opened hers, set it down and removed her jacket and then joined me.
“You look fucking gorgeous.”
“Focus, Rocket. What happened?” Shit. She was going to hate me too.
“There’s stuff that happened back at the old club, in Wiltshire, before I came here. Micro was… he was right at the centre of it. He was a different guy then. I guess that’s the important part. He attacked people, he tried to destroy the club from inside. Did all kinds of messed up shit.”
V frowned, jerking a thumb in the direction of the other building.
“Micro? The guy I just met?”
I nodded. “Like I say. Different guy. He was so angry, so bitter. We were friends, or so I thought… when he started all that stuff…” I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on my beer, idly peeling at the edge of the label, “I was going through my own shit, so I wasn’t acting like myself.”
V’s mouth dropped open. “Oh god. They thought it was you.”
Whoa. It was so much easier to explain a whole bunch of shit when the person was so fucking smart they could figure it out. I nodded slowly, turning my eyes back to the label I was peeling at.
“Time and time again I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Time after time, it looked like I didn’t have an alibi for the shit going down.”
V rested a warm hand on my thigh and rubbed gently.
Not a sexual thing. She was offering comfort.
Something I really didn’t really deserve after what I’d done tonight.
I’d just fucked up another person’s life, and for what?
Because I’m a pissy bastard. And it wasn’t just his life, was it?
It was Sophie too, and Jesus fuck… their new baby.
“My god, I’ve destroyed all three of them!”
“Okay, go back. I’m still trying to understand. If he did all that, why is he here now? I mean, he’s running things!”
I nodded, gulping down half of the beer in the hope it’d fill this fucking hole inside me that told me I was fucking everyone’s lives up, and I needed to stay the hell away from people altogether.
“He’s atoning. That’s what he said tonight.
When Reacher and Stitch put him in charge here, when they destroyed the old club here, and took over, it was to see if he’d really changed, I think.
To see if what he was putting out there was for real.
And Jesus, it really fucking is. He’s… he’s a good person.
Whoever he was before, that’s not him now.
Fuck!” I stood up, nearly knocking V off the bed.
“If he tells them tomorrow, they’ll vote him out. They’ll throw him out of the club, and it’s his life. His home!”
“SIT!”
I dropped down again, then glared at V.
“I’m not the dog.”
“No, you’re better behaved. Listen, whatever happened tonight-”
“I called him out. I told him how I felt, pointed out how he’s hiding from it all.
He’s going to tell the rest of the club everything.
Own up to all that shit he did, but it’s like a different person did it.
Not him. He’ll lose everything because of me.
Right when he’s getting the dream, I’m fucking it all up for him. ”
V
The dream. He meant the baby. The family.
Everything I’d wanted, everything I still wanted, only now I was left having to start over.
I’d have to find someone, and do all of that stuff again, and that added years to the plan.
That meant I’d be older when I had a baby.
That meant I’d be an older mum. I could understand how terrible Rocket felt, but it didn’t sound like anything could be done right now.
He’d informed the right people. He’d done what he could. I wasn’t sure what else there was.
“Do you want to go and find Harley? I can call Caroline and see if they’re together.”
Rocket sighed, finishing his beer, and staring morosely at the wall.
“Nah. Reacher’s got people on that. I’d only be tying up Harley’s time while they need him helping the Pres.
Jesus. I’m useless. Worse than useless, because I can fuck up lives just fine, and leave others to deal with the fallout.
Whoa… just like he did back then. Maybe they were right to suspect me then. I’m no better than he was.”
I hated to see him dwelling on this. Hated to see him directing his own hate inward. He was focusing on his mistake, and the damage it was doing. It would eat him up.
I forced a heavy sigh, and slammed my beer back down.
“Is the pity party going to take all night?” I bit my lip while I waited for his reaction, and his eyes were wide as hell as he turned to gape at me.
“Seriously? Oh. I get it. You’re right. I’m not doing anything useful right now. Dwelling doesn’t fix shit. I need to go find Micro myself. I need to stop him.”
I caught his arm as he tried to stand up, and he paused, darting another frown at me.
“I wouldn’t.”
“What? Why?”
He dropped back down and turned to face me, waiting for whatever pearl of wisdom I apparently had, which was zero, by the way.
“I just think… right now he’s hurting, just like you are. If you go find him, you’ll both get into it again, whether you mean to or not. It could make things worse. Didn’t you say Reacher is the right person to fix this?”
Rocket’s shoulders slumped. “What if he can’t?”
I wriggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around his back.
“Maybe it needs to happen then.”
“What?”
“Think about it. He’s got this huge secret, and it’s probably eating him up on the inside, making him feel like he’s lying to everyone who’s supposed to trust him.
He’s living a lie. Maybe it’ll be good for him to not have to hold that inside him anymore.
Maybe that’s the only way he can really move on. ”
Rocket looked for all the world like a person hanging on for dear life to what he probably thought was a fleeting chance, but I had a feeling I was right.
Imagine holding all that in. My ex did that, held on to a huge secret, and it destroyed everything.
Maybe Micro’s life would improve if he was honest.
“Jesus, what do I do,” Rocket whispered, lowering his head again. He looked like a scared child. I reached up to drag my fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp with my fingernails and he sighed as a little tension left his shoulders.
“That might be easier than you think.”
He didn’t answer, so I carried on.
“If he speaks up tomorrow…” I stopped when his phone buzzed, and he dug it out, groaning at the message from that CallToArms chat. It said simply; Church. Ten AM.
“Fuck.”
I clenched my fingers in his hair, tugging hard at the strands and he hissed in a sharp breath.
“Woman.”
“As I was saying, if he speaks up tomorrow, and I’m guessing that’s the plan… do what you can. Back him. Speak up for him. Show your support. Back your President up, and be there for him. Bury the fucking hatchet at last, and be his brother.”
“You think that’ll work?”
A fist banged aggressively on the door a moment later, scaring the hell out of me, and making poor little Nixie yap out a panicked bark.
“You fucking cunt! You did this!”
Rocket groaned, standing up and steeling his shoulders.
“Fucking Grease.”
He opened the door, and a sucker punch sent him crashing back onto his bed after several staggered paces.
“You’re such an asshole! Why the hell would you fuck him like this?”
I got up and stepped between them as Rocket lurched up again.
“V, step out of the way.”
“No. This isn’t the time for some testosterone-filled asshole fest. You can both help Micro.
You can both back him up tomorrow, and speak for him.
Show your fucking support for him, show that you stand by him, and want him to remain as your President.
Can you focus on that for now, and beat up on each other later? ”
Grease cursed, backing up and away from us, pretty much at the same moment that Rocket caught hold of my arm and pulled me further away from the other biker.
“She’s right,” he said, and Grease glared at him.
“I know.”