Chapter 11
Van
I walked away and left her alone in her room the other night. I couldn’t listen to her say she wanted to leave anymore. I know what she’s thinking, and she’s wrong. I wouldn’t hurt her or the baby. Now I’m fucked in the head. I’m pissed she even thought it, but even more pissed that I made her think it.
I down another beer as I look around the bar. There are a few of our guys here tonight, but mostly, this bar is for civilians. I just needed out of the clubhouse after seeing her all day. She was off work today and stayed at the clubhouse. It was hell not going to her. I’ve grown attached to her, and I don’t know what I’m going to do now.
“You want to talk about it?” the bartender, Cher, asks me.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I tell her. She nods her head and passes me another beer and a shot. I down the shot quickly before I take the beer down in record time. Before I know it, I’m drunk off my ass, causing a scene.
Cher tries to stop me, but there’s no use. I’m drunk, fucked out of my mind, and singing fucking karaoke. I want to hate myself right now, but I can’t. I’m too drunk.
That’s when I see Mask walk in, followed by Pike and Free.
“Hey motherfuckers!” I yell into the microphone. Mask looks over and shakes his head before the door opens, and she walks in. What the hell is she doing here? This isn’t a place for a pregnant woman. She walks over to Mask and they both look up at me. Mask whispers something in her ear right before she nods and comes toward the stage.
“Can you get down?”
“For you?”
“Yeah. For me,” she says. I nod my head and stumble my drunken ass off the stage, passing her the mic before I head back to the bar. I don’t know what she wants from me. She’s the one who wanted me to stay away from her, and now here she is, in my space.
“You done with this shit yet?” Free asks as I grab another beer and take a long pull. Cher will cut me off soon. I’m surprised she hasn’t already.
“What shit is that?”
“Whatever this drunken shit is, you’re on tonight,” he answers, looking me in the eye. My eyes drift over to Chy and back to him.
“Why’d you bring her?”
“She needed to see this shit,” Mask sternly replies.
“No, she really didn’t.”
“Yeah, Van, she did. She wanted to come,” he adds.
“She wanted to come? To see me like this?”
“Maybe she just needed to see what kind of bullshit she was gettin’ into with you.”
“Which is what?”
“Look at you, Van. I’ve never seen you look like this before.”
“Drunk? You’ve seen me drunk,” I slur.
“Not like this. What’s this shit about? Cher was afraid to cut your ass off,” he says, making me smirk. She was afraid of me? Seems everyone is these days.
“Maybe she had good reason,” I tell him.
“You wouldn’t hurt Cher.”
“Maybe not. Maybe I would. You don’t know, Free.”
“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” Pike chimes in.
“I’m not ready to go,” I tell them. I think I’ll stick around and have a few more drinks and wallow in my self-pity.
“I think you are,” Mask says, shoving Chy into my arms. I catch her and pull her against me, holding her as tightly as I can without hurting her.
“Why are you here?” I ask her.
“They asked me to come help with you. They’ve never seen you like this,” she tells me.
“Not good enough,” I say as I shove her back away from me. She takes a step back when Mask steps up. He grabs the front of my cut and jerks me into his face.
“You’re my fuckin’ VP, Van. You need to act like it.”
“Because I decided to drink?”
“No, because you decided to act all fuckin’ stupid over a pussy. She don’t want you, brother, deal with it!” He growls before shoving me back a step. I turn my head and look at Chy as she hovers near the bar, her arms crossed over her chest.
“He right? You don’t want me?”
“Don’t do this, Van,” Pike warns me.
“Is that what this is, Chyanne?” I ask once more. She shakes her head before stepping closer to me and my heart leaps in my throat.
“I didn’t say that. I just need to deal with this is all. I’ve learned a lot the past few days, Van and it’s a little much for me.”
“So you do want me?”
“Let’s go home,” she says, not answering my question. Instead, she holds out her hand and waits for me to take it. I slowly slide my hand into hers and let her lead me out of the bar.
Once we’re outside, I spin her around and shove her gently against the side of the truck before crashing my lips to hers. She lets me kiss her, even in my drunken, sloppy state.
When I finally pull away, she smiles at me and everything else feels right. She feels right.
“Let’s go home,” she repeats. I nod my head and help her into the truck before I climb in behind her.
“I was singin’ baby. You should have seen it,” I tell her as my head swims.
“I’m sure it was great.”
“It wasn’t. I heard it,” Mask chimes in. I laugh now.
“You know it was good, brother. As good as the shit with Reggie. We burned that shit to the ground, didn’t we, Mask?”
“Shut up, Van.”
“Why? We did,” I tell him.
“She don’t wanna hear about it, Van.” I turn to look at Chy as she looks out the window. He’s right. She doesn’t want to hear about this shit, so instead of talking about it, I rest my head on her shoulder and press my lips to her neck. I run my tongue up the side of her neck to her ear before biting the lobe between my teeth.
“What are you doing?”
“Makin’ you horny.”
“Van, come on. You’re drunk.”
“And I can still fuck, baby. My cock still works, just touch it,” I tell her. To my surprise, she reaches over and rests her hand on top of it, and it jerks from her touch.
“You want me, Chy? Tell me you want me.” I’ll beg her in my drunken state. I’ll beg for her.
“Van,” she whispers my name, and I know she does. She doesn’t need to say it. She just needs to feel. And I’ll make her feel.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good, Chy. I’m gonna eat your pussy, and lick your clit. I’m slowly gonna put my cock inside of you before pulling it free and makin’ you beg for it.”
“Jesus, Van,” Pike snaps at me as I chuckle.
“What? You jealous?”
“Hell no, but I don’t need to hear this shit either, you drunk bastard,” he adds. I chuckle before resting my head back on Chyanne’s shoulder for the rest of the ride.
My eyes are heavy as I let them fall closed. And I can see it. I can see myself the way she did. I cut the club tattoo right off his arm before pulling the trigger and shooting him in the head. I felt nothing. Not a damn thing.
She must hate me. She must hate what she heard, what she saw. I don’t know how to explain it to her either. I don’t know what to say. It had to be done, and I had to do it. There was no way around that.
“I like you a lot, Chy,” I mumble under my breath. I don’t know if she heard me until I hear her respond.
“I like you too, Van.”