Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CIDNEY
Thankfully, the conversation about me and Goose fades away, and it shifts to weddings and babies. I’m happy to be the observer in this conversation. Happy to let my mind wander to other things… like Goose. And when it does, a wave of sadness washes over me because it’s over.
We’re over.
We can’t last.
I won’t let Justin beat him up. I won’t allow any of that to happen. It’s time for me to pack my things and venture out somewhere else. When I thought that maybe my job was in jeopardy, I thought Raleigh would be my landing place, but I can’t go there now.
There is no way Raleigh is big enough for Jeffrey and me. I mean, it’s big, but it’s not that big. So I’ve got to think of another place to move. Maybe Charlotte, or maybe even Richmond, Virginia. But that all feels so very far away.
Glancing over at Posey, my cousin by marriage, I wonder what our relationship would look like if I weren’t here. Then my gaze flicks between every woman in this room whom I’ve grown to not only admire, but love. I do love them all.
Leaving Thunder Rock would be another blow to my already fragile heart and soul. I honestly don’t think my heart can take many more aches and pains. This poor girl has been through hell and back already in my twenty-one years of life.
No real parents to speak of. A childhood of chaos.
And then falling in love with a man who is too old for me, and I can’t have.
But only after trying to date someone else who just wanted to use me, and when he couldn’t, he tried to kill me.
I don’t want to leave these women either.
It just seems like a lot of loss piled on me at once.
Loss I don’t want. And leaving here would just prove that I’m alone, really, really alone.
At least in Thunder Rock, I have the semblance of a family.
Somewhere else, I wouldn’t even have that.
My heart races at the thought. It slams against my ribcage so hard that I fear it might actually flop out onto the floor and dance around like a fish out of water. I lift my hand to the center of my chest and close my eyes, attempting to breathe.
I’m not sure what happens—if it’s an anxiety attack or what—but I feel like everything is far away, like their voices travel, or maybe I’m in some type of sleepy haze. I’m not sure, but I don’t like it at all, and when my body is jerked by the shoulder, my eyes widen, and I gasp.
I’m face to face with Posey’s concerned expression. “I’m fine,” I lie.
“You’re a liar, honey.”
I am a liar.
I don’t admit that, though. Instead, I just stare at her, trying to convey to her that I’m fine. I am fine. I have to be fine. There is nothing else I can be right now. This is not in my control. None of it is.
My heart wants Goose, and I know I can’t keep him. My job is gone, and I know I can’t get that back or anything close to it around here. I haven’t felt this out of control in years.
The world is spinning around me, and there’s nothing I can do to control or stop it. I’m not an active participant right now. It’s all just happening to me, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Posey gives me a smile, but it’s a sad smile. Then, without a word, she wraps her arms around me in a hug. The embrace feels amazing. Closing my eyes, I allow it to soak into my bones before I let out a heavy exhale.
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
“No, you’re not. You’re in love, and you think Ivy is going to kill him.”
Posey laughs softly, but it sounds sad. She straightens before she takes a step backward. Her gaze searches mine, but she doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she turns and walks past me to the bar, where I know the food and drinks are set out…. And the desserts.
I’ve already eaten too much and drunk too much. I should take myself to bed, even though they’re all still here laughing and enjoying the moment. I’m not enjoying anything because all I can do is think about all of the things I’m about to lose.
“Are you okay?” Lainey asks, her voice carrying through the room even though it’s soft and sweet just like her.
“I’m as okay as I can be,” I murmur, lifting my glass to my lips and taking another sip of wine. “I’m trying to figure out my future.”
“What about going to community college? Is there a trade you want? Maybe nursing?” Zadie asks.
Also sweet.
But not realistic at all whatsoever. If that were something I could do, I would have already done it.
I didn’t because it’s not feasible. What it is is a pipe dream.
Not that I want to be a nurse. I’m too freaked out by bodily fluids.
But I would have chosen a different trade, no clue what, and with no money to even think about it, it doesn’t matter.
Shaking my head, I clear my throat. “I wish there were a trade I was passionate about or even thought I could do. I have nothing,” I whisper. “And I don’t have the money to figure it out either, so it doesn’t matter.”
I don’t have to look at each of the women to know that they’re watching me with pity-filled expressions on their faces.
I hate that, and I hate the fact that they’re focused on me.
I don’t want their pity, but if the tables were turned and any one of them were living my current life, I would probably be looking at them the same way, so I can’t even be offended.
“We can figure out a way for you to stay,” Zadie states. “There’s no way you can leave us.”
She sounds almost desperate, but it’s Dakota who speaks next and makes my entire spine straighten. “The clubhouse,” she states. “You can work at the clubhouse.”
Everyone gasps, me included, but before she says anything else, I start to giggle. “The thought of me working down there is hilarious,” I state.
Dakota shakes her head a couple of times, then her eyes flick to the ceiling before they shift down to meet mine. “Not like that,” she says. “Like someone who can do paperwork, keep that place in order. It’s a mess down there, and God knows Bullet isn’t going to try and fix it.”
Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head as my stomach clenches at the thought of being down there and seeing Goose with one of the whores. I would seriously not be able to recover from that. I would lose my whole mind and then some.
I empty my glass of wine, then pour myself another. The rest of the evening, we brainstorm how to keep me here, but it yields nothing, and when they leave for the night, I am hammered. I don’t remember the last time I actually got drunk off wine, but here I am.
Trashed.
And wishing that Goose were home…
GOOSE
I’m not sure I accomplished much tonight. Maverick and I had a good talk. Bullet didn’t give me much info about what’s been happening at the club, other than there was going to be church in the morning, and I need to be there.
However, I’m not sure what else could be going on. It seems as if things have calmed down again, so I really fucking hope that doesn’t mean shit is about to pop off. As long as the Front Mob Family isn’t an issue, and we’re just keepin’ on the way we are, shit should all work itself out… right?
I walk up to the apartment door, knowing the women have all left already. I saw them on the surveillance footage about an hour ago. I should have come home then, but I wasn’t ready. I’m not sure why I’ve been avoiding it. No, that’s a lie. I know exactly why I’ve been avoiding coming back.
Because this is it.
This is the last night. Tomorrow, shit changes. Tomorrow, I go back to the clubhouse, to church, and I’m going to have to go back to work, back to my duties there. My job here—protecting Cidney, watching her… it’s done.
And then there’s the fact that she doesn’t have a job anymore, which means unless she finds something, and fast, she’s going to have to leave her sweet pad and likely Thunder Rock. I know I can’t keep her, even if I want to, but I also don’t want to completely lose her.
With my hand on the door handle, I run through the scenarios in my head—trying to keep her, letting her go, watching her from afar, and I’m not sure any of them are the right one.
Well, except for keeping her. That would be the right one for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right one all around.
That’s just my selfish answer and will always be my selfish answer.
Fuck it.
Tonight, I’m going to be selfish one last time… again.
When I step into the apartment, I’m not surprised to find that everything from the get-together has been cleaned up and all the lights are off, except the little light above the stove in the kitchen. Cidney has left that on for me.
I stand in the entryway, staring at that little fucking light for longer than I should. I’m not sure why it seems big, but it does. Huge even. Maybe it’s the whole having someone waiting for you at home thing… or rather someone who gives a shit about you waiting at home for you.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head, trying to shake my thoughts away. It doesn’t work. They’re still right there in the center of my mind. They are waiting, and they are ready to spill out of my mouth.
And they are the last things I should be thinking. But they play on repeat, over and over, without stopping. Each moment that passes, each second I stand in the entryway while those words play on repeat, makes me wonder if it could work.
I love this. I want this. I love you, Cidney.
But I want this to work. I want us to work.
It doesn’t matter that she’s almost a decade younger than I am. It doesn’t matter that she’s Ivy’s cousin and has always been off-limits. None of it fucking matters because I know that she’s supposed to be mine.
Walking into this apartment, knowing that she’s likely in that bed waiting for me, maybe it’s what I needed to realize how I truly feel.
Sure, I could think about the fact that I’ve fallen in love with her all day long, but to actually claim her, to fight for her, to announce to the world that she’s mine and I’m not going to give her up, not for brotherhood, not for fucking anything?
That’s a big step in any world, but especially mine.
It’s time that I man up and claim my woman. Locking the front door behind me, I make my way through the house, kicking off my boots then taking off my socks as I do. I’m barefoot by the time I make it to the bedroom.
Standing in the doorway, the soft light from the side lamp illuminating the room, I see her. All of her absolute gorgeousness. And I know, I know I would fucking kill for her. Kill to keep her.
Cidney Whitaker is mine.