Chapter 9 Lucy #2
The sound of a vehicle pulling up the drive makes me jump.
“It’s just Nolan. Listen, before he comes in.
Let’s do this again. We can avoid the things we can’t and don’t want to talk about.
But I’d really like to get to know more about you, Lucy.
And in a town like this, with the kind of connections we have to the club, it’s nice to spend time with people who have your back and know the score. ”
“I feel the same.”
As I step off the porch, Butcher trudges toward me. Frosty leaves and fresh snow crunch beneath his feet.
As if he senses my intention to hurry past him, he reaches out his arm to stop me. “Lucy,” he says. “You got a second?”
I sigh and clutch the strap of my bag tightly. “If I said no?”
He rolls his eyes. “Then, I’ll say my piece anyway.”
“Fine. What do you want to say?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets as the bitter wind whips around us. “I was there…those first months Grudge was in prison.”
“I know that.” I don’t tell him I learned it from Greer a few minutes ago.
Butcher looks off into the distance for a moment, as if remembering what that was like.
Prison isn’t easy for anyone. “I got locked up for trying to bribe a public official. Got two years, was out in eight months. I was close friends with Grudge’s dad and was mentored by his grandfather.
So, I knew the kid long before he even prospected. And I remember how much he loved you.”
Those final words hurt as much as if Butcher had slapped me. “Where are you going with this?”
“This isn’t a courthouse. I don’t have to tell you where I’m going with this, and for Grudge’s sake, you’re going to listen to me and pay attention.”
I don’t like being told to pay attention. It implies I don’t. And I’m a grade-A student when it comes to listening. Because people tell you all kinds of things they don’t mean to if you listen well.
“Then get on with it, because I have things I have to do.”
“Three weeks into his sentence, there was an attempt to kill me in the shower block.” He unzips his thick jacket and lifts the hem of his hoodie.
There’s a thick scar running across his abdomen.
“Grudge saved my life. Never seen a man fight like that, to this day. He took on four of them alone. Never stopped to think about himself or how many of them there were, or what it could mean to him, to his sentence.”
When people say they feel something tug at their heartstrings, they usually mean some metaphorical description rather than the real and painful tightening I feel in my chest. It’s so on brand for the man I love.
Loved.
Shit.
“I’m sorry that happened to you both. Prison is a painful place that rarely addresses any of the problems at hand. And we all know it increases the chance of recidivism.”
“Recidivism?”
“Legal speak for reoffending.”
Butcher sniffs, then looks out over the fields. “Why are you a lawyer if you don’t believe in the concept of prison?”
“I’m a defense attorney. Not a prosecutor. I try to keep people out of prison, not push them into it.”
Butcher looks at me as though seeing me through a different lens. “You’re not like your father.”
I shake my head. “We don’t have the same moral compass.”
He smiles sadly at that. “I dragged Grudge through those first months, just to keep him breathing. The fight showed me just how much rage was inside him. You ruined him. And I rebuilt him. I gave him his road name; I always kept him to my left so I could keep an eye on him. I gave him a purpose when he came out of prison. And gave him the presidency because of the man he’s become.
You broke him once; I’m not going to let you do it to him again. ”
For all the tough talk coming out of Butcher’s mouth, I can hear the love he has for Grudge in his tone. They’re more than just brothers in a motorcycle club. There is a deeper, more meaningful bond between the two of them.
There is so much I want to say, and even though I am usually brilliant at my closing arguments, I find I can’t even string a sentence together.
“I told him that unfinished business is the kind of thing regrets are made of,” Butcher says. “And I mean that for you as much as I do for him. But he always deserved better than you gave him last time.”
That, I can’t deny. “I know that, Butcher.”
Butcher eyes me carefully, and whatever he sees there softens him.
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not gonna ask you why you did it.
That’s between you and Grudge. I don’t even need to ask if you regret it, because for all you’re feistiness right now, I can see in your eyes that you do.
But I’ll say this: He’s just been given one of the biggest roles in the country.
The president of an Iron Outlaws chapter.
It’s what he’s dreamed of and aspired to.
He’s got a chance to make a mark on something even bigger than he is.
If there’s a piece of you that still has any kind of feelings for him at all, don’t fuck with him. ”
The words, softly spoken, show Butcher’s true feelings. He’s talking to me like the man’s father rather than his former president.
“I’ll try not to. But I’m here. Back for who knows how long.”
Butcher nods. “Do your best, Lucy, yeah?”
There may even be a new understanding between the two of us. “I’m glad you took care of Greer’s dishwasher.”
Butcher’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “Her what?”
I smile at him. “Just ask her.”