4. Chapter 3
Trick – Five Years Later
I slowly move my black wedding ring around my finger, eyeing it, while chatter echoes around me in the café, but I don’t pay any attention, my mind elsewhere like always.
Yesterday was my wedding anniversary, five years married to my best friend's sister, my friend who still to this day barely speaks to me. To be fair, I’m never home, just like I wasn’t yesterday.
I don’t willingly communicate with her, if anything, I have pushed her away to the point where we're merely co-parents for our daughter, her being the only reason why we speak.
Willow June White, who is the spitting image of her mother with dark green eyes and dark red curly hair, the curls she got from me, is my fucking everything.
Her mother is also my everything, not that Clark is aware of that, and she never will be…
I sigh as I run a hand through my hair. I’m in Rose Hill, three hours out of town, where Cage, after he did five stints in prison, had ended up after we forced him to go nomad before he killed himself.
Women, drugs, booze, you name it, he fucking went off the deep-end, and we had no choice but to intervene.
I’m wearing my VP patch, something that took Chains a lot to convince me to wear and Cage has roughly four months to get his shit together and take his place.
His dad has said he’s just keeping the seat warm until he returns home which hopefully, now that Cage has met and fallen for Drew, a local ballerina, he’ll want to come home.
Preferably, before Chains gets it in his head to kidnap Drew just to get his son back.
The man had finally snapped, and against my generation’s wishes, he forced us all to take our rightful places within the club so we’re ready for when Cage comes home. We just, uh, we have to convince him, because the fucker is adamant he shouldn’t be in charge.
He feels like he failed us, and believe me, I understand that fucking feeling all too well with my wife, but he needs to understand we don’t blame him, we don’t hold any grudges.
Angie was his little follower, his best friend, and losing her the way he did, the way we all did, it was devastating, but we need him, fuck, I need him.
Five years and I’ve realized I am undoubtably, undeniably, completely, in love with my wife, who hates me, and I need my friend before I fall off the fucking wagon.
I shake my head and lean back in the booth, continuing to play with my ring.
I think I’ve always had feelings for Clark.
Every time she was near, I gravitated towards her.
My body hummed, if we touched, I got electric shocks, but I pushed it all away, thinking maybe it was because she was my friend.
Don’t get me wrong I knew she was beautiful, kind, funny, sweet, and I knew I was attracted to her, but I didn’t want to admit my body was telling me it was more.
The day I realized it was more, was two days after our wedding and I went to Carnage Angels, the clubs strip club and while a pissed off Lavender scowled, I dragged Trixie to the bathrooms adamant to fuck her.
As soon as her lips touched my neck, I fucking panicked. I felt like I was cheating. In five years, I haven’t touched anyone. I haven’t wanted anyone except my wife, fuck, she was the last person I slept with, but she doesn’t want me. I forced our marriage on her instead of letting her run.
I forced the marriage without realizing I needed her tied to me but I’m not one hundred percent sure she hasn’t been seeing other people and that fucking hurts, a lot.
“Sorry, brother, a client was running late,” Cage sighs as he takes a seat opposite me then asks, “You ready to hit the road?” as he puts his longer hair on the top of his head into a bun, showing off his short back and sides.
I nod and confirm, “Yeah, your dad called several times, he’s annoying me.”
Cage winces before he says, “I’ve dodged his calls. The more he demands I return, the more I pull away which is probably why he’s bugging you.”
I swallow as I lock eyes with his dark brown ones, and I admit, “I need my best friend home, brother, I’m struggling, I don’t know what to do.”
He sighs as he sits forward and links his fingers on the table.
“Clark believing your fucking around isn’t the way to go about it, Miles, you’re pushing her away, yet you can’t breathe without her,” he says, getting right to the point, “You’ve been in love with her since you gave her the nickname, why keep pushing her away?
Why not tell her how you truly feel and be a proper family? ”
“Because I raped her,” I whisper.
Cage tenses then growls, “That didn’t fucking happen, you know this! You’ve told me about the flashbacks, about the little memories you’ve been having, the connection you felt despite what was in your systems, you didn’t rape her, you were both drugged!”
“Tell my head that!” I snap, pointing to my head, “I can’t seem to escape that feeling.”
I look away from him, hating the pity in his eyes, and we’re quiet for a moment, my admission hanging between us.
“Have you started your residency at Hill Crest Memorial?” Cage asks quietly, changing the subject for a moment, seeing I’m at breaking point, and I hum, trying to ignore the guilt.
I should be excited, I should be jumping for fucking joy that I got onto the surgical residency program to begin with, but all I have is regret, a shit ton of it.
Clark wanted to be a nurse, but she’s a nursing assistant in the ER instead.
She didn’t go to college. She became a full-time mother and made our daughter priority.
She refused to rely on her mom or mine for childcare.
She turned down college funds from her dad and brother.
She refused to even discuss me helping her gain her career and dreams. As it stands, Belle is the only person she trusts with our daughter pissing off her mom and mine.
She lost trust in everyone when no one stopped the wedding, if you can even call it that. She didn’t have the white dress or the church, she didn’t have her princess dream, instead she was forced to sign the marriage license.
She thought they all sided with me, including her family, and she’s right, they did side with me because they knew the danger she was in. Fuck, I’m not disappointed because I’m in love with her, I just don’t feel good enough for her.
I still feel like I raped her yet the thought of allowing her to leave, the thought of setting her free makes me want to fucking choke.
“My head doctor wants to fuck me,” I admit, answering his question.
Dr. Lavish, with her bright ginger hair and wicked smirk, tried to cup me in the breakroom, shocking the shit outta me.
Apparently, she’s always wanted to fuck a biker.
“What?!” Cage growls, but I wave my hand at him.
“I showed her my ring, and she soon backed off, but she’s still eyeing me,” I admit before I take a sip of my coffee, “and so is Lavender. Before I came here I found her in my bed in the clubhouse getting herself off and when I told her my wife was in the common room with my daughter, she mentioned how it wasn’t a real marriage because I was trapped just as said wife walked past. I kicked the bitch out and had her put on probation, fuck, I’ve never even touched the woman, so I don’t get why she wants me so much. ”
“See, bitches like that won’t help your marriage!” he snaps, and I sigh.
“My mind won’t help my marriage, brother. For fucking years, I ignored the feelings I had for her, and look where we are...” I mutter just as my phone rings, and I huff.
“What’s the betting that’s dad,” he says, and I grunt, “Probably,” as I grab my phone from my cut and check the ID, already planning on ignoring the fucker because he’s doing my head in, only I swallow hard.
“It’s Clark,” I mutter, and Cage questions, “I thought she doesn’t call you?”
“She doesn’t,” I snap, worry hitting me, and I quickly answer, “Buttercup is everything okay? Willow, okay?”
She clears her throat and admits, “Willow is fine, she just uh, look, she wants to begin ballet, but uh, I can’t afford the price for the ballet studio one town over.”
Fuck, she’s finally asking for help, five fucking years, and she’s asking for help.
I’ve barely heard her voice, only when she’s talking to our daughter, we don’t communicate, and she believes I’m fucking around, yet she called me and my heart fucking soars.
Fuck.
Licking my bottom lip, I state, “I’ll pay for it, that isn’t a problem, but I gave you a card for a reason, buttercup.”
Cage winces, already seeing where this conversation is going, just as Clark whispers, “I don’t want to use it, Trick, just uh, I’ll send you the contact information and you can do it that way, sorry for bothering you.”
She hangs up before I can say anything else, and I sigh, “Fuck’s sake.”
“She thinks you're with your mistress, brother,” Cage says, and I hum as I stare at my phone, a photo of Clark and Willow from the day she gave birth, having my entire attention, and I mutter, “I don’t have one, though.”
“Miles,” Cage says firmly, and we lock eyes. He asks, “I’ll ask again, why not tell her how you feel? See how she feels in return, please, brother.”
“I tore her virginity from her,” I state, and he flinches at the reminder.
“I’ll say it again and again until I’m blue in the face, you were drugged, she was drugged,” he growls with tension, and I shake my head before choking, “Then why do I still feel like I raped my wife?”
“Because of how it all happened,” he whispers, “You love her, Miles, and honestly, if she didn’t believe you were fucking around, she could fall in love with you too. You would have everything, including possibly giving Willow a sibling. You need to seek help, brother.”
I sniff hard and down the rest of my coffee before I grunt, “Being with Drew has made you sappy,” trying to hide my emotions, and he sighs, seeing right through me.
“That may be so, but, brother, you are fucking miserable because you want your wife and won’t fight for her, and you need to fight for her,” he says, and I retort, “And you need to come home.”
He snorts, “Nice deflecting,” and I roll my eyes. “Look, I’m not ready to come home,” he says seriously as we lock eyes, “My head is still fucked up, and my main focus is my girl, and if I decide to stay here, then you have to know it’s for my own mental health.”
I shake my head, hating his words, but he doesn’t stop.
He continues, “Go home and speak to your wife, tell her what’s really going on in your head before you fucking lose her to someone else.
You’ve been married for five years, and no one has tried to attack her, she may see it as a sign you don’t need to be married anymore. ”
Dread sits heavy in the pit of my stomach at the thought of losing Clark and I swallow hard and choke, “She’s a club princess,” and he mutters, “That you fucking love and she thinks you’re screwing around,” he sighs, “I’m good here, that fucker is gone, he won’t go near Drew again, so you can go.”
And by fucker he means Drake, Drew's ex-boyfriend from when she was, I think, fifteen or something. The dickhead tried attacking Drew, and she broke his dick literally as Cage stormed into her studio.
“If you come home, Drew can open her ballet studio in town, and my daughter can join,” I try, and he chuckles, “I’ll keep that in mind,” before he mutters, “It’s still so fucking weird that you have a daughter.”
I half smile and admit, “Weird but perfect, she’s just like her mama,” and he chuckles before he says, “Come on, brother, I’ll see you off,” and we both stand after throwing cash on the table and walk out the café towards my bike ready to get home to see my girls.
I may be distant with her, but she is still my girl, she always fucking has been, I just didn’t want to see the truth.
I just wish we could be the family I want but I’m no good for her.
I would have kept my distance from my daughter too, but I just can’t.