Chapter Eight—CJ #2
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Rory thinks I have a beautiful body. He even gave me money to help with my hair. Derby thinks I’m nothing but a fat hog.”
Derby was a fucking asshole, but he’d keep that opinion to himself. After everything he’d gone through with Harley because of her low self-esteem, CJ realized a lack of confidence led to fucked up decisions, no matter your age. Just look at motherfucking Diesel.
“You do have a beautiful body,” CJ said. “A beautiful face, but you’re allowing Derby to tarnish your beautiful soul.” He leaned close to her ear and breathed in her perfume. “Don’t do that, Gypsy. You’re worth more than that.” He straightened and smiled at her.
“Derby doesn’t sleep with anyone under eighteen as far as I know,” she confessed. “I lied about that.”
“To justify your actions, though it still didn’t make it right. Wrong plus wrong equals wrong. There’s no fucking way you can find right there.”
“What are you and my wife whispering about, CJ?” Derby demanded, walking up on them with the stealth of a fucking cat.
“Just shooting the shit,” CJ said blandly.
Derby glanced between them and grinned. “Uh huh.”
“I came to see Meggie,” Gypsy said, unable to meet her husband’s amused gaze.
“Hmmmm.” He winked at CJ. “How is she?”
“Fine.”
“Let’s go in the bathroom, Gyp,” Derby said, not commenting on her one word response. “I need a cock suck and you’re excellent at that.”
Instead of outrage, Gypsy lifted an awed gaze to Derby. “You haven’t asked me for a cock suck in weeks.”
“Go ahead, babe. Wait for me. My nuts are throbbing.”
CJ was too fucking appalled to respond, so he watched Gypsy hurry to the bathroom at the end of the hall in silence.
“Give me a grand and I’ll let her suck your cock, kid.”
“I beg your fucking pardon?”
“She’s my woman. I love her. I just don’t like her most of the time. She has a syndrome I can’t abide.”
“Gypsy’s sick?” Maybe, that explained her fucked up behavior.
Snickering, Derby nodded and started back away. “Do you know you’re as tall as me now?”
“What’s wrong with her?” CJ demanded, ignoring Derby’s question.
“Take a guess.”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“It’s called Stupid Bitch-itis, compounded by desperation. Pathetic, too.”
Unable to find words, CJ dropped his mouth open, remaining silent even as Derby’s laughter floated to him.
“Fucking asshole!”
Turning, CJ left the bank of elevators and walked into the main hallway. Instead of going straight like Gypsy and Derby, he went right and soon reached the hospital’s sitting area situated right outside the cafeteria. Suddenly, all eyes were on him.
“How’s Meggie?”
“Any news on Reb?”
“When are they leaving?”
“Where’s Outlaw?”
“What did the doctor say?”
“Outlaw okay?”
Brothers fired off questions to CJ in rapid succession.
So fast he couldn’t identity the speaker or answer one before another came his way.
He paused at the edge of the cafeteria, near the pizza and hot sandwich stations.
It disappointed him that all the tables were taken.
Not that it mattered. The club members needed answers.
He cleared his throat, scanning the crowd, not addressing anyone in particular. “Mom’s healing. Reb’s okay. She doesn’t want to see anyone. I’m not sure of their release date. Dad’s upstairs. He’ll be down for dinner.”
Somehow, CJ managed cordiality, when he only wanted coffee and to be left alone.
Uncle Mort’s talk with CJ helped to ease him, although not completely.
Gypsy’s whatever, Diesel’s insanity, and Bishop’s fib were all periphery but couldn’t block the guilt of what had happened and CJ’s role in it.
Deep down, he knew Rule’s attack was partially his fault.
A few weeks ago, when Rule pulled a knife on Rebel, CJ dismissed it as his brother’s bad temper, instead of telling their parents.
Everyone fell silent, so he roamed from the drink, fresh fruit, and cold sandwich cases to the pizza, comfort food, and taco stations. He looked at the pastries, candy, and chips, the silence as overwhelming as the questions.
By the time CJ reached the counter to pay for his coffee, donut, and banana, a table miraculously opened.
He loped to it and sat in one of the two chairs, wanting normality.
Conversation not questions. Worried about another barrage of questions, he took his cell phone from his pocket.
A diversionary tactic he rarely used, but one he leaned into just then.
Besides Rebel, he only wanted to text Harley, and he couldn’t. He wouldn’t…
Sighing, he logged onto Ridge Moore’s app and went to his dashboard, the first time in months he willingly pulled up his student account.
Late lesson after late lesson populated. Glaring zeroes for assignments and the word ‘failed’ for quizzes and tests taunted him.
“Fuck,” he grumbled, throwing his phone aside and scrubbing a hand over his face.
Setting his elbows on the table, he hung his head, still so exhausted. He was too tall to curl up on the window seat and the chair in Mom’s room wasn’t the most comfortable, so he hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“CJ?”
Harley’s voice washed over him and his heart started pounding. He ached to take her in his arms and hug her. A part of him longed to have a reason to excuse her behavior. When there was none. She’d handed him unnecessary bullshit.
“What, Harley?” Even to his own ears, he sounded so fucking harsh.
His fear and pain lowered his guard, left him vulnerable to her, since he wanted, needed, his best friend.
She’d find words to soothe him. Or the old her.
Now? He knew better. Severity was his only defense so he wouldn’t fall back into her trap. “What do you want?”
“I-I came to check on you,” she said with hesitation. “You left upstairs twenty minutes ago.”
Still not looking at her, he shrugged.
“Were you able to get any sleep?”
“Not much,” he admitted.
“That explains your grouchiness,” she said with a giggle, her amusement washing over him with much needed familiarity. “You’re a beast when you’re hungry or tired.”
He smiled, lifted his head, and nodded. She still hadn’t gotten her braids back, but it didn’t matter.
He’d never seen a girl more beautiful than Harley Banks.
Her honey-colored skin, dotted with acne, her gorgeous eyes, her perfect lips, punched him with longing and regret. “You would know,” he said quietly.
“We’ve been friends forever, so I would,” she agreed, and glanced at the empty chair. “Can I sit?”
He wanted her to…except he couldn’t. Maybe, he was a motherfucker to allow jealousy to rear its green-eyed ugly head and overwhelm his other feelings. But she’d hurt him deeply. Nardo aside, he couldn’t forget Harley leaving with Ryan and his cousin never returning a mere five days ago.
“I can’t. You can’t. There’s nothing left between us—”
“Friendship,” she said.
“Not so much if you aren’t honest with me,” he said tiredly. How many times would he have to repeat those words to her? “And definitely not if you don’t believe in my honesty.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Save it,” he inserted. Her meaningless apologies were a tired song, too.
“You walked out of my house less than a week ago with Ryan and he never returned.” Bitterness assailed him.
Given everything, all that had passed between him and Harley, all that had happened to Mom and Reb, he should’ve been over his pain, disillusionment, and anger.
Since becoming so immersed in the club, he needed Harley now more than ever.
He just didn’t want her. “That speaks volumes. Yet, you’ll deny it. ”
Shame crossed her face and he gritted his teeth. “What do you want me to say, CJ?”
What she did in private and with who shouldn’t be used to humiliate her. He wanted her happy. Not ashamed.
“Tell me please,” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable, touching him. Frightening him. He couldn’t handle trusting her again and then having her stab him in the back. “I don’t know what to say. Tell me–”
“The truth,” he interrupted. He wasn’t judge, jury, and executioner, but he wasn’t a fucking jackass either. “Tell me the fucking truth, Harley. Why the fuck did you sleep with that motherfucker?”
The vulnerability in her eyes just about killed him. But she wasn’t crying and she hadn’t turned into a raving lunatic. “Ryan or Nardo?” she asked quietly.
“Forget it,” he said tiredly. “We’ve been over this too.”
“About Nardo. Not about Ryan.”
A curious note in her voice caught CJ’s attention and he studied her. So it was like that? All the better. Maybe, he could finally exorcise her from his heart knowing she cared about Ryan. “It’s okay, bae. Truly. If you like Ryan, I’m happy for you. All I’ve ever wanted is your happiness, Harley.”
“But I miss you,” she said, noting her words—her lack of denial.
“Please don’t shut me out. I want…” She glanced away.
“Watching Mattie and Rebel share secrets and spend time together hurt me so much. I felt left out and it made me so resentful. Then, when Aunt Zoann found out what happened to Aunt Meggie and Rebel, she screamed. It was…it was…” A faraway look entered her eyes, and she shook her head.
“It was the most awful sound I ever heard. Uncle Val left the moment he got the alert and he called her and…Devon and me went running to the kitchen. Aunt Zoann could hardly get the words out that Rebel was unconscious because Rule tried to drown her. The house was in chaos. The only thing worse was when Grant told me you overdosed. Except then it was just me when he came over.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t know what…
I can’t explain…first you and now Rebel. It’s so awful.”
“The grim reaper’s stalking the Caldwell kids,” CJ said glumly, then thought of Mom. “Our entire family.”