Chapter 18
The Calm Before the Storm
Thunder
The radio blared a pop song as we rolled primer onto the walls of the banquet center.
We’d painted the first wall the gray color Flo had picked out, but when the paint soaked straight in, we had to stop.
It’d set us back a few hours, but we’d fallen into a rhythm, each of us taking up our own space.
It wasn’t hard to miss every time one of us checked the door, like El Sombra Roja would appear on demand.
“God, I hate painting,” Slate bitched. He was on the opposite side of the ballroom from me, so I didn’t feel the immediate urge to shove the roller down his throat. “Gerry better have fucking squealed like a little pig.”
If Gerry hadn’t, this whole setup was a waste of time, and we’d be right back where we started.
With nothing. Every time someone made a comment, it always ended with a dig at that fuckface.
The plan was simple, but I doubted El Sombra Roja would take the bait. If he did, what did that say about him?
“I stopped by Bear’s house the other day,” Sabre replied nonchalantly.
“It needs a fresh coat of paint.” A few snickers and coughs rippled through the room, but no one openly laughed.
If they did, Slate would be butt-hurt enough to dig for gossip he could spread.
We weren’t perfect, and most of us had secrets we didn’t want to see the light of day.
“Not my problem.”
“It isn’t, is it?” We all turned at the sound quickly. A few of the other brothers were reaching for their pieces, but when they saw the girls, they relaxed. Not by much.
Bear was standing in the open doorway that led to the hallway, holding a box. Kelly was standing next to her, bags dangling from both of her arms. There were lookouts around the banquet center, so they must have felt this visit was safe enough.
“Aww, fuck.” Slate forgot he had a roller in his hand, so when he brought it up to run a hand through his hair, the paint splattered all over him.
“Yeah, hope the club girls take pity on an old man like you.” Bear walked into the room, laying the box on one of the banquet tables set up. “Don’t bother showing up at my door unless you have paint in hand.”
“Burn.” Pretty smacked his lips. “Hey, Bear, I’m a growing boy. Would that be lunch?”
She didn’t bother to answer him, but we watched her as she pulled out sandwiches with our names on them.
Flo kept a list in the kitchen of everyone’s favorite for times like this.
“What dumb shit are you getting into?” she asked Pretty.
I’d known the woman a long time. There was a bite in her tone, and we were all fucked.
I didn’t know how he did it, but Pretty’s smile slid into a pout. It made him look younger than he was. “Oh, nothing. I just won a bet, that’s all.”
Bear rolled her eyes before setting the empty box on the nearest chair, reaching for a few of the bags still hanging from Kelly’s arms. “Knowing you, it was probably some version of ‘my dick’s bigger.’”
“That one’s too easy.” He sidled up to Kelly, pretending to help her with the other bags. “Count was wondering if you were going to bring lunch today. He got dressed up for the occasion.”
Count dropped his roller into the nearest tray, and I desperately tried not to react.
Pretty had been living dangerously for a while, but Wreck wouldn’t be able to save him this time.
No one voluntarily went against Count. He controlled our pay, and brother was in the gym, hitting the speed bag, five days a week.
“Talk to her.” I heard someone cough, trying to help Count, but the brother was like a deer in headlights. His eyes were open, but nothing was registering. Kelly tried to ignore him, but I could tell she was nervous at the attention. No one dared laugh at the awkwardness settling into the room.
“How’s school?” I asked her, grabbing a plate before looking for my sandwich. She didn’t see me as a threat because I was old enough to be her grandfather. It was the right move, as she perked up, talking a mile a minute.
“I didn’t think I’d be able to catch up, but everyone’s really nice, and—“
“Yeah, like your male lab partner? He nice?” Count crossed his arms over his chest. The veins in his arms popped.
He was a danger to her, but the worst part was he didn’t clock how badly she wanted to run.
She didn’t feel safe in a room of bikers who would never have hurt her.
She looked down, throwing the bags of chips onto the table as quickly as she could.
“So, is he nice?” I tried to smooth it over, but all she did was give me a tight-lipped smile. “Most of us are idiots,” I whispered, and Bear snorted.
“Most?” Bear said, keeping it quiet so that the room wouldn’t have any more ammunition to tease Kelly with.
“Okay, all of us have our moments. Don’t worry about Count.” Kelly smiled. “If the lab boy isn’t pulling his weight, you tell me.”
She laughed. It was soft, but I didn’t have to look at Count to know he was paying attention. “He’s alright. Just a friend.”
“I’ve heard that one before,” I snorted, filling my plate with a handful of chips.
“How’s that working out for you?” Bear smirked.
It’d work better if El Sombra Roja showed.
“Oh, right.” Kelly wrapped her arms around herself. “Thank you for inviting me to the wedding. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Congratulations.” She said goodbye to Bear and then snuck out.
No sooner had we heard the front door close than Bear turned on Count. “You fucking idiot.” She got right up in his face, and Slate quickly moved to stand next to them, in case he had to intervene. “You just gave her more of the same shit she experienced in the clubhouse. Good job, Romeo.”
Bear left soon after that, but we didn’t have any other visitors the rest of the day.
I seriously didn’t think Alex would show.
If he didn’t, this game would start all over.
***
Elizabeth
My leg bounced as I trapped JR between my arm and my chest. I had little hand strength anymore, but as long as he wasn’t squirmy, he was safe with me.
The minute he started fussing, someone would take him, but for now, I stole his happy baby giggles for myself.
I didn’t feel like focusing on the dinner conversation floating around me.
“Here.” Chef set a plate down in front of Kyle. He was strong enough to sit in the main room, and Grace insisted he have a spot at dinner. Grace liked harmony, so as long as he was here, she was going to smother him with family.
“I’m good,” he said, trying to wave Chef off, as his cheeks blazed red.
“Don’t insult my food. When you’re strong enough, you can stand in line like everyone else.”
No one laughed at Kyle’s expense. I wondered why, when they were so quick to poke fun at each other.
Turning towards the rest of the table, it wasn’t hard to figure out what was happening.
Thunder was mean-mugging anyone who thought about opening their mouths.
I knew he would have done the same thing for me, but watching him stand up for Kyle made my heart skip a beat.
“How come you don’t have a plate, Aunt E?” Chef focused on me.
I gently guided JR’s hand into a wave. “I’m not…hungry.”
He was about to say something, but Grace jumped in.
“It’s okay. We had a little snack on the way home.
” She had meant well, but Grace wasn’t the best at playing innocent.
She gave away the plot, as red crept up her neck and into her cheeks.
If I ever needed a believable lie, I’d go to Meredith first.
Sabre shifted forward in his chair as he dropped his fork. It made a pinging sound as it hit the edge of his plate, splattering a little spaghetti sauce on the table. “Snack?” he asked Grace.
“Yup.” She continued to twirl her fork, pretending not to pay him any attention.
“Was it the burger place or the fast-food joint, Mama?”
She didn’t answer him, so when he reached over and tipped her chin up, holding her gaze, she was putty. “Shakes,” she said. “The guy in the drive-thru said he wouldn’t see you tonight. He gets off at seven.”
Sabre laughed before pecking her lips. “I’ve thought about buying the cartons, to save me the trip, but that shit would be gone.” His hand disappeared from view, and I could only imagine he’d placed it on Grace’s stomach.
Thunder made a noise next to me, and I gently made JR wave at him, hoping it would smooth his displeasure. I didn’t think he cared about the shake, and the burger was still my secret. He was trying to give me space to tell him about my therapy, but I didn’t want to discuss the latest.
He was leaning forward, so when he placed his fork on the side of his plate, turning to look at me, it was obvious there was no escape. “Does your aunt think I’m blind?” he asked JR, reaching out to tickle the baby’s belly.
“No, she thinks you’re old,” Pretty laughed. His eyes twinkled as he leaned forward, scanning the end of the table until he landed on Cyph. “At least Thunder can still get it up for his age.”
Cyph stood up from the table, placing his hands on the edge. His glasses sat cock-eyed on his nose.
Wreck stood up, mirroring Cyph’s position. “I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp. No fucking hesitation.”
“He’s out of control, and you’re sleeping with Peaches. Figure your fucking shit out. My dick works just fine.” Sabre and Grizz had both slid to the edge of their chairs, but neither one of them stood.
“I’m living my best life.” Pretty smirked. “Men. Women. It’s like a revolving smorgasbord.”
“What?” Count chimed in. “With your snacks?”
“I talk to them and tell them how much I loooooove them.” Pretty made fake kissing noises, and I couldn’t hold my laughter in. “At least someone thinks I’m funny.” Pretty winked at me. “I got to talk to my best girl, though. The snack cakes taste different lately.”
Sabre slid back in his chair. “You got to get a new shtick.” He laughed as he laid his hands on his stomach. “Excellent dinner, Chef.” There was a round of agreement, but Chef sat with his head in a plate, still eating.
I was grateful that the focus never returned to me. I kept JR entertained until it was bedtime. Passing him over to Grace, I snuck off to my room, not saying anything.
“Tell him,” Grace had whispered into my ear. “He might take it better than expected.”
I needed a quiet moment to myself. Thunder wouldn’t push, but I would have felt obligated to tell him. Instead, I lay on my side of the bed, letting the darkness surround me. It settled the chaotic thoughts I’d been having since my appointment.
Lying still, I watched the bedroom door open as Thunder tried to creep into the room, but the man couldn’t be quiet if his life depended on it. His belt buckle clanged softly against the floor as he dropped his jeans. I didn’t call out to him.
Thunder slid into bed, lying on his back with his hands behind his head.
His breathing never changed. Slow and steady.
He was giving me the space I had desperately craved, but I no longer wanted it.
I raised my upper body as best as I could before I laid my head on his bicep.
His arms didn’t move, but I placed my hand over his chest, connecting us as best as I could.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was—“ I tried to find the right phrase. “It wasn’t…good.”
He still said nothing, but his arm came down to wrap around my back as he held me close.
“No more.” I coughed. “I’m not…better.”
“What does that mean?” he whispered.
“This…maybe it.” I hadn’t cried when the doctor told me I wasn’t making any more progress.
He didn’t think there was anything further they could do for me, and after a year, they hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up.
I’d wear a new brace for stability only, but I’d never get rid of the shuffle.
I knew I was lucky. It could have been worse, but I’d spiraled at the thought of officially losing my former self.
Grace hadn’t forced me to talk, but she’d taken me for a chocolate shake to drown my sorrows.
“Okay.”
“I…shuffle.” If I could hear the agony in my voice, then I knew he could too.
“Okay.” His arm tightened around my back, plastering me against his side.
“Is that all…you say?” My volume was rising. Wasn’t my husband supposed to be on my side? Supposed to encourage me? I would never walk straight.
“I’m not downplaying your pain, and if it were me, I’d be angry, too.” I felt his nose on the top of my head. “You’re alive, Liz, and that matters to me the most. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be my wife.”
His wife.
Something inside me settled, and while I was still upset over the prognosis, it didn’t seem so dire. If I hadn’t jumped from that moving vehicle, I would be dead. I would have missed out, and that was the greater tragedy. I didn’t feel whole, but I wasn’t alone.
I shifted until I lay directly on my husband, kissing him.
Each peck was a silent apology, quickly followed up by another, where I tried to share all of my bottled-up feelings.
Bobby held me to him before he rolled us over, and when he finally entered me, the only thought I could process was of him.
My husband.
Alex is out there somewhere. He won’t stop until he ruins everything.