CHAPTER 20
maverick
The image of Harley drunk was seared into my memory. Sure, I wasn’t exactly sober, but at least I had my shit in order. Harley had been drunk, the kind that left me feeling uncomfortable with putting him in a cab and hoping for the best.
Except Harley wasn’t my problem, and I needed to remember that. The boundaries between us were clear as day. He had his world, and I had mine. That was that.
Unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from wanting. Wanting to follow him. Wanting to make sure he was okay. Wanting to make him forget all the crappy things weighing him down.
I jammed a cigarette between my lips and lit it, desperate to get the thoughts of Harley out of my head. I had to. There was no room in there for him. Not when I had to go back to deal with Aidan.
I focused on that the whole way back to the trailer park.
I’d written down all the woman’s information when no one was looking and had it shoved in my back pocket.
Even still, I ran through the conversation to make sure I remembered everything the woman at the bar had said to me.
I needed to make sure Aidan had everything he needed to do whatever the fuck he and his boys wanted.
My part ended when I handed over the information, and then I could go home to not think about Harley some more.
By the time I rounded the back of Aidan’s home, my mood was shit, and I was itching for a drink. Or five. As always, everyone sat around an open campfire, drinking and laughing. I ignored the invitation for a beer and just tossed the paper at my brother.
“There,” I said. “She and her family are in town for a week. Should give you more than enough time to do whatever you’re going to do.”
Aidan didn’t say a word as he opened up the bar receipt. His gaze scanned over my notes, his expression severe. He always did this shit, always acted like it was his job to critique everything I gave him.
“You’re going to join us for this one,” he announced when he finally looked up. That single sentence shut everyone up and made my blood boil. This asshole.
“Go fuck yourself,” I snapped. I tried to storm away, but he was right behind me.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded.
“Home.”
“The hell you are! You need a reminder of what the hell you’re doing here.” The minute he grabbed my shoulder, I whirled fast. It didn’t matter that he had a whole head on me. I squared off anyway and pushed him back.
“My job ends the minute I give you the goddamn information,” I snarled. “That was the agreement. End of story. You want to try to change it, go ahead. Go ahead and try, Aidan. Let’s see how that works out for you.”
The way he stood taller and the dark expression on his face would’ve scared the shit out of me when I was younger, but now? I didn’t give a flying fuck. I knew all of his tricks and behaviors. I also knew how to play into all of his little games and come out just fine.
“You’re an ungrateful little shit—”
“You need me,” I cut him off. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
His eyes locked on mine, chest heaving with anger, but I didn’t back down.
I was fully aware that I didn’t need to do this shit.
I could’ve walked away, but Aidan would always weasel his way back into my life, and I didn’t know how to cut him out.
How fucked up was I? At least this way, I wasn’t directly involved, and it kept him off my case most of the time.
Sometimes, we had to go through this bullshit all over again.
He took a swing at me, and I let him. I didn’t bother trying to defend myself. I just landed on my ass with a busted lip and my ears ringing.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jay yelled. The others scrambled to pull Aidan out of the moment, while I ignored them.
This was all part of the game. One moment of defiance to show him that I wasn’t under his control, one hit for him to feel back in control, and then I could walk away for the night.
We’d spend a few days avoiding each other until he showed up with my cut, and things would go back to normal.
“Are you okay?” Jay’s girl asked. I knocked away her hand as she attempted to help me up, doing my best to be a little gentle despite the way I shook with anger. It wasn’t her fault my brother was a dick.
Climbing to my feet, I spat blood out and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Blood smeared my hand and got trapped in my beard. Fuck, he’d gotten me good.
“You aren’t worth my fucking time,” I growled. Without a word, I left. I refused to waste another minute on this bullshit with him.
Slamming my front door, I stormed straight to the kitchen and threw open the freezer in search of something to help the swelling in my lip. Nothing.
“Fuck,” I grumbled. I really needed to keep at least a bag of frozen vegetables around or something. I wouldn’t. Every time we did this song-and-dance, I told myself the same thing, but I never followed through.
Instead, I grabbed a bottle of vodka off the counter and took a long drink. Pain burst on my lip and burned as it slid down my throat. Good. I welcomed it—anything to drown out the rage buzzing under my skin. Anything to quiet the echo of his voice in my head.
I hated him. I hated him so goddamn much.
I hated how he looked at me like I was something he owned. Like I was still a kid for him to push around. I hated the inevitable hits that always came.
But I hated myself more for doing the same shit over and over again. I hated myself, like I even had a choice in any of this. There was no leaving Aidan and this crappy thing I called my life. Hopefully, one day, but not now. There was only surviving it.
It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go, even if I wanted to. Mom hadn’t come back in five years. No calls, texts, anything. She didn’t give a fuck about me. Hell, I wasn’t sure if she was still alive.
I didn’t have enough stashed away to leave.
And it seemed like I never would. The money I made covered bills and a little bit of extra—just enough to taste freedom but not enough to grab on to.
And anytime I thought things were quiet, something broke, and I was stuck digging into savings just to get by.
It was the universe’s way of putting me right back where I belonged.
Tipping back the bottle, I took another long drink. And then another. I kicked off my boots and wandered to the bedroom, drinking as much as I could to drown in it. I fucking hated it here, and I didn’t want to be sober enough to deal with it anymore.
Sober meant feeling everything.
Sober meant remembering the hatred in his words and the feel of his fist on my face.
Sober meant knowing that tomorrow nothing would change.
Sober meant stewing in the rage and hatred that had taken root inside me.
At least while drunk, I didn’t have to sit with the fact that this might be my life forever.