Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Hannibal
S omething in her has changed.
Any progress I made has gone.
I don’t know if it’s because we’re heading back to the home she shared with Driller or because we used her as bait this morning.
Whatever it is has made her shut down and even though I know I’m at fault for delivering it like I did, I’m still pissed.
I take her out the back way and lead her out to her truck.
“What about your truck?” she asks quietly.
“One of the brothers will drive it up with the rest of my shit.”
“Did you find a tracker?”
I nod.
“Yeah.”
When she doesn’t respond, I whirl on her, making her jump.
“Did you really think Havoc was going to let you stay here? Is that what this is?”
“What what is?” She looks confused and nervous.
I back her up until she’s pinned against the truck.
“You look like leaving is ripping out your fucking heart. Not being a dick here, Lola, but Havoc doesn’t want you. I do.”
“I haven’t thought about Havoc once,” she says softly.
“I’m disappointed that I was used as bait, even though I get it. I’m gonna guess the tracker is still on my truck so Driller knows I’m heading back home. You’re expecting him to come for me. Maybe he will, but he’s not so dumb that he won’t consider it a trap.”
I grind my teeth.
“It wasn’t my call to make, but you’ll be guarded. You won’t be in danger.”
She sighs.
“I guess that makes everything okay then. Look, I’m not mad, not really. I’m sad. I’ve been happier here locked in a room all week than I have been back home for years. And now you’re about to become king of a crumbling castle filled with people who hate me. Why are you expecting me to jump for joy?”
“Fuck!” I snarl, pressing my forehead against hers.
Of course, she’s not happy to be going back.
She’s been miserable there.
“I’m a dick.”
“I know.”
I grin before kissing her hard.
Her hands grip my arms, holding me to her instead of pushing me away like I anticipated.
Thank fuck.
I’m coming to realize I could take whatever I wanted from this woman.
I could force her hand, knowing the situation she’s in.
I could have her crawling on her knees for me.
But I don’t want to take it.
I want her to give it to me freely.
I want Havoc and Driller to be nothing but memories.
I pull back at the sound of the gate opening and see Blade, Conan, and Inigo riding in on their bikes.
Surprised to see them here, I walk back to the biker hanger and wait for them to dismount and remove their helmets.
Blade looks over first, his eyes moving past me to Lola, who moves behind me slightly.
Frowning, he walks over, with Conan and Inigo following suit.
“Was not expecting to see you before I left.”
“Lucky you.” Blade grins before turning somber.
“Any news on Dice?”
“Still in surgery, last I heard.”
“I hear congratulations are in order, Mr. President.” Conan reaches over to shake my free hand before addressing Lola.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she answers quietly with a wave.
Blade’s frown deepens.
Sensing he wants to say something else, I turn to look at Lola before pulling the keys from my pocket and handing them to her.
“Go wait in the truck, I’ll be there in a second.”
“Okay. Bye, guys.” She waves again, looking awkward as hell before scurrying off.
“Skittish thing, ain’t she?” Inigo observes.
“Never used to be,” Blade answers before I do.
“I only met her twice, but she used to have that same kind of light that Sunshine has.”
“Well, someone extinguished that for sure,” Conan states.
“She’s Driller’s old lady, so not surprising.” Blade sighs.
“Was. She’s my old lady now.”
“Huh. Interesting.” Conan smirks.
“That real, or something to draw Driller out?” Inigo folds his arms over his chest.
“Can it be both?”
“I don’t know, Hannibal. Can it? That girl looks like she’s hanging on by a thread. How did she even end up here of all places?”
“Came to warn Havoc that Driller and Khan were planning something. She didn’t know what, but wanted him to watch his back.”
“For someone that did the dirty on him, she sure took a risk coming here. Could be it was on purpose.” Blade states, coming to the same conclusion Havoc did.
“We figured that was a possibility. But if that was the plan, she fucking sucks at information gathering. She’s asked zero questions about anything or anyone and hasn’t left my room for a week, other than this morning when I took her out to see if Driller would make his move.”
He nods, not looking surprised.
“She’s the weak link here. There was something about this whole fiasco of her jumping from Havoc to Driller that made me uneasy. I put it down to the club doing fuck-all to prevent it, letting Havoc swing in the wind. But perhaps there’s more.”
“Oh, there’s more, I’m sure of it. She hates Driller. She came here covered in bruises, so that’s not surprising in itself. But I’ve dealt with DV victims before, and most of them have a way about them—even the ones that never go back. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like they carry an extra weight of shame on their shoulders. And not because they stayed, but because they loved their abusers. That’s how these men get away with it for so long. The acts of violence come after they’ve made them fall so deep in love they don’t know how to get out again. The violent outbursts are usually followed by grand gestures and love bombing, leaving the victims convinced it was their fault. If they’d just listened better or tried harder…” I run my hand through my hair.
“It’s bullshit, of course. They’re waiting for the man they fell in love with to come back, not realizing that man was a lie. They spend all their time trying to fix them only to end up broken themselves.”
“I’ve seen it myself a time or two.” Conan nods.
“Then he’s sorry, it was an accident, and he promises it won’t happen again—it’s all bullshit straight out of a narcissist’s handbook.
“I don’t get that from Lola.
There’s fear, anger, and a fuck-ton of hate, but that’s it.
If she ever felt anything for him, it’s long dead because I don’t see even a hint of it.
I don’t know, maybe I’m reading her wrong, But to go from Havoc to Driller and not feel…
.”
“Embarrassed? Ashamed?” Inigo guesses.
I nod. “Yeah. I mean Driller and Havoc are like chalk and cheese. There's no way people aren’t making her feel like she got her comeuppance, but it just doesn’t feel right.”
“You don’t think the story lines up?” Blade looks to the doorway Lola walked through.
“I think there's far more to it. I don’t know what yet, but I’ll find out.”
“What does Havoc have to say about it all?”
“Let’s just say there's no love lost there.”
“You’re going to have your work cut out for you, that’s for sure. New club, new old lady, and a shit-ton of baggage,” Blade warns me.
“Don’t forget the kids.”
“Jesus fuck. Hannibal’s a dad. It gets me every time.” Conan chuckles.
Inigo grins. “I feel for the kid that wants to take Hannibal’s daughter to prom.”
I freeze, a scowl slipping over my face. I know what teenage boys get up to at prom. “Over my dead body. Or his.”
They all laugh, the assholes.
“Somehow, I think you’re going to be a better dad than you realize.”
“I hope for Millie and the baby’s sake, that’s true.” I sigh, rubbing my face. “I’ve gotta go. It’s already gonna be a long drive.”
“What about your bike?”
“Gonna get one of the guys to haul it up in the back of the truck.”
“Alright. Stay safe. We’ll come to visit when things settle down.” Blade slaps me on the back as the others give me nods.
I jog to the truck where Lola's waiting, throw my pack in the back, and climb in. “You ready?”
Lola's gripping the edge of the seat, her eyes on the gate.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Lola…”
She looks at me, her large eyes damp with unshed tears. “I’ll be okay. I’m just tired. I think I’ll sleep for a little bit, if that’s okay.”
“Go for it. Shit.” I jump out of the truck when I realize I still have my cut on and lay it on the back seat.
Looking over at Lola as she settles her head against the door, I strip off my hoodie and ball it up before climbing back in. “Here use this so you don’t get a stiff neck.”
“Thanks.” She takes it from me as I start the truck and indicate for Hoops to open the gates.
“I feel kind of sad for you.”
“What the fuck for?”
“You’re leaving your home. A place where your family is, your clinic, hell, almost all your things are here. And if we hadn’t passed those three as we were leaving, nobody would have even said goodbye. These are people who you’d kill for and yet nobody came to say goodbye?”
I bite my lip, oddly pleased that she’s pissed on my behalf.
“What I give you, they don’t get. I’m not a nice guy, Lola, and they know it. Even if events didn’t play out the way they did today, planning a leaving party for me would’ve been akin to inviting people to a funeral. People are scared of me, and that’s the way I like it.”
“Then they could have thrown a ‘yay he’s leaving party,’” she grumbles.
I can’t help it. I laugh, which feels weird, though genuine.
“Why are you different with me?” she asks after a few minutes.
“Because I want to be.”
It really is as simple as that. I won’t change who I am for her—I couldn’t if I tried—but I can adapt. She’s like a splinter buried under my skin, burrowing a little deeper every day, and in a perverse way, I like it. The deeper she gets, the harder it will be for her to dig herself out.
“Get some rest. We have a long drive ahead of us.”
“Can I ask you a favor for when we get there?” she asks softly as she arranges the hoodie between her head and the glass.
“You can ask.” I just can’t make any promises.
“Can we just keep being us?”
“I’m not following.” I turn to look at her briefly before I turn back to the road.
“People will spread their poison. Their sole aim will be to pull us apart because they love nothing more than to see me miserable. I can handle what they throw at me. I’m used to it. I just don’t think I can handle you becoming one of them. Maybe if I’d never met my Hannibal, I could handle it?—”
Her voice cuts off as I hit the brakes. Thankfully, the road is deserted. I lean over, grab a fistful of her hair, and pull her so her mouth is an inch from mine.
Her words my Hannibal flash in my head as I stare down into her wide, wary eyes. “I’m yours first. I’m only theirs because I knew I’d get you as part of the bargain. They will not turn me against you, that I can promise. Because here’s what you should know about me, Lola. I simply don’t give a fuck about what you did or didn’t do. They’ll only make the mistake of talking shit about you once in my presence. They sure as fuck won’t make it again.”
“You can’t hurt everyone who talks smack about me, Hannibal.”
“Whatever you say, doll.” I kiss her but keep it quick before I start driving again.
“Every time I thought I had things figured out, my life took a left turn. There were so many left turns, Hannibal, that it took me forever to realize that I was going around in circles. My shitty life is playing on a loop with no end in sight. And then there you are, and in the space of a week, you’ve started to unravel the tangled mess I’ve made of my life. Part of me is scared you’ll get to the center and realize I’m nothing special. Or worse, every bit as bad as people say I am.”
“And the other part?”
“The other part is scared you’ll stop trying. Every person I’ve ever cared about has quit on me. I don’t want you to be one more.”
I laugh, though a glance over at her catches the flash of hurt across her features.
“You don’t know me well if you think I’ll quit that easily. I’m a tenacious motherfucker with some fucked-up hobbies. Nothing much sparks my attention or holds my interest for long. But there's something about you that calls to me, and the longer I’m around you, the stronger the feeling gets. I’ve gotta warn you, though. That curiosity tends to twist into obsession with me. I’m either uninterested or obsessed. People say I’m crazy for a reason. By the time you realize how deep inside you I’ve buried myself, you’ll be a little bit crazy, too.”
“I can handle crazy.”
“You say that now…”
“You won’t leave me?”
“No. Not even if you beg me to.”
“Then I can handle crazy as long as you’re mine and only mine.”
She settles in with my hoodie, leaving me to contemplate her words. Do I believe she’s telling the truth?
I believe she believes she’s telling the truth, but she hasn’t seen me at my worst. There will come a time when she’ll meet the monster that lives inside me. And when she does, she’ll run like the others who came before her. They always fucking run.
The difference is, I won’t let this one get away. I can’t. If sanity has a switch, Lola’s the one with the power to flip it. I’ve become too attached already. If this is what I feel like after a week, then fuck knows what I’ll be like in a month or a year from now.
Here’s hoping Lola's as brave as she seems to be.