Chapter 5
Wizard
The kitchen isn’t hushed when we walk in, but the levity that usually buoys this place is missing.
It’s very early, but the guys have brushed off their red-eyed haze with some of Odin’s stiff coffee.
I don’t know who went for doughnuts and breakfast sandwiches, but boxes are mounded high on the massive kitchen table.
It has more than a dozen chairs surrounding it, boardroom style, and nearly the whole table is cluttered with boxes and bags and littered with different colored mugs.
Tyrant is drinking from one with a big Badass Biker splashed across the side. The women like to buy us things like that when they find them.
Raiden stands when we walk in. He offers his hand to Esme. “Hey. I’m Raiden.” He motions to the rest of the guys at the table. “Tyrant is our Prez, that’s Odin, and this is Lynette—the club’s lawyer, and Bullet.”
I’m so thankful that it’s not the whole club assembled here.
They would have, despite the early hour, if Tyrant called church.
My guess is that he didn’t want to overwhelm Esme or call anything until he talked to both of us and knew the facts, but there will for sure be a meeting later, with the officers.
I’m glad Bullet came in with Lynette. He probably drove her here, but he’s also holding their baby boy. He’s still so small, wrapped up in a bear onesie complete with little ears on the sherpa hood. He’s fast asleep in Bullet’s arms, oblivious to everything going on.
Esme immediately softens when she glimpses the baby.
I get a big old rock in my stomach to add to all the knots.
I steer Esme over to the coffeemaker on the counter. I could use a cup myself. I grab Esme a white mug with a picture of a classic motorcycle on the front and I take an oversized blue one with an engine and flames.
The coffee looks like tar, so thick that even when Esme adds cream and sugar, it still maintains its near black hue.
I drink mine that way. I’ll pad it with a doughnut that will no doubt taste like ash, but hopefully the dough will stop my guts from rotting out.
I steer Esme to the table. The guys are huddled around one end, Bullet and Lynette beside each other.
I debate sitting across from Esme so I can watch her face, but seat her beside Odin and drop down in the other chair.
They’re so close together that our elbows nearly hit each other’s, and our thighs almost brush.
The hair on my arms stands on end. I discreetly move my chair an inch to give her space.
And to stop myself from bursting into a ball of flames.
No one needs that right now. Not on top of everything else.
As soon as we’re seated, Tyrant clears his throat.
He’s a big man, but not intimidating at all, due to the fact that he looks like a fucking model.
I’ve seen him do some rank shit over the years to protect us, and he’s had awful things done to him—by the hand of his own father.
He can give as good as he gets and stand strong when the ground starts shifting.
Esme glances around the table and melts into her chair, not out of fear, but because she seems comfortable with the guys. The only slightly scary looking one is Odin, but only because he wears an eye patch. He’s actually a big teddy bear.
“Do you want to tell us what’s going on?” Tyrant addresses me but also sweeps his gaze to Esme. “I know a little, but I’d like to hear the whole thing, or as much as you both know.”
I glance at Esme. She turns to me immediately, a question on her face.
I nod and start from the time she got to the phone call, to my brother’s callous attitude when I tracked him down and made him take my call.
I know who he owes the debt to, but I leave out all the parts of the conversation where he was belligerent.
I certainly don’t repeat the terrible things he said about Esme when I told him that the relationship was, without a doubt, over.
Maybe she should have told him herself, but I needed to protect Esme.
She didn’t need a single other word from my useless brother bouncing around in her brain, making her feel guilty for something that wasn’t ever her fault.
After I’m finished, Tyrant turns to Lynette. “No one is delivering money anywhere,” he says. “That’s not safe. We could wire it?”
“It’s a massive amount, but I could make that happen. I think a few smaller installments would work.”
“But you can come up with that much cash in a few days?”
Raiden hedges. He’s the club’s VP, but he used to do all the accounting, and still does most of it. “We have it.”
We all know what he’s not saying. It’s not like a couple million is going to clean out the club.
We have tons of assets, but most of them are tied up in real estate, stocks, and crypto.
It wasn’t always like that, but over the past few years, we’ve tried to take the club in another direction.
Some of the guys have already done years in jail.
No one wants to be there again or end up there.
Not when they have kids and old ladies and wives now.
It’s not just them that they have to look after.
“We can figure it out later,” Raiden says. “It won’t hurt for long. Unless someone else has a crazy emergency come up, we’ll be okay.”
I try not to study Esme too outright or too boldly, but my eyes keep straying to her despite my best efforts.
It’s been so long since I saw her for more than a few hours on a single night a year, that I almost forgot how longing works.
Almost. Seeing her staring her down into her coffee, lips thinned out to keep them from wobbling, lashes fluttering rapidly over eyes glossy with tears, chin quivering despite her efforts to be brave—it’s a lot.
I want to hold her. I want so fucking badly to keep her safe from all of this.
I can’t allow myself to rest my hand over hers when I notice her fingers tremble on the tabletop or waver on the handle of her mug.
It’s not my right. I can’t touch her with any intentions other than pure comfort.
I want to do that, but if it’s more, I need to get my head on straight and find other ways to let her know I’m here for her.
I was always so careful about shutting all of that down.
I told myself what I wanted was secondary.
It was second to our friendship. A good friend helps their bestie thrive.
I thought I was helping her find what she wanted.
Raiden starts listing off a number of properties that could be put up for sale immediately, in order to give the club some cashflow after the debt is paid. Lynette listens attentively, nodding in agreement at every single suggestion.
It’s hard to pay attention to them when Esme is so close, smelling like my shampoo, wearing my clothes. I’m half feral seeing her in them, even if my t-shirt is like a billowing bag swallowing her whole.
There’s a good chance that this yearning is going to kill me before any of this is over.
I know what it is to want something so very badly.
I know what it’s like to miss all your chances to speak up and say something, and then it just being…
too late. This would be a terrible time to let her know, so I have to keep it hidden.
She thinks I’m bad at that, and I guess I am, but not so bad that she’s figured me out.
Maybe I should have told her the truth instead of letting life take her away. It was confusing then. It hasn’t got any better with time.
I wish my grandpa was still alive. We could go back to his house, to his gardens, and stand there together like we did when we were growing up. No matter what bullshit was going on in the real world, when we were there, everything made sense.
I shake my head to clear away the tunnel of memories.
Tyrant looks at me. I have no idea what was just said and it looks like I don’t agree.
I nod too, face heating up, and try to hide my expression behind the massive mug.
I take a deep pull and grimace immediately as the bitter seeps all over my tongue and burns like real acid down into my stomach.
Esme pulls her engagement ring out of the pocket of her sweats.
My sweats. She sets it down on the table with a small clunk and pushes it across.
“Wizard said that I don’t have to repay the debt,” She swallows noisily and her thick lashes flutter madly.
“But I want to help. I don’t want this anymore.
I… already decided that before any of this happened.
If you could sell it, you should keep the money.
Or donate it to help people here in Hart.
I’d like that. I’m also going to list the house and sell my car.
There’s not much money in either, but I can give that to you too, when it does sell.
If I don’t, and James gets ahold of it, you’ll never see a cent of it. ”
Lynette is biting down on her lower lip, probably to keep from blurting out something about my brother that we all already know anyway. “Could you write up paperwork that I can get James to sign, relinquishing all his assets to Esme?”
“The car is in my name,” Esme mumbles. “The mortgage is in both of ours. He already cleaned out the bank account. My savings account is my own.”
“He’ll have to sign for the sale of the house, but other than that, I won’t need to write anything up.”
“You should keep your car,” I argue. “For now, at least. Sell it when this is all over and you know you won’t need something.”
“I want to go back to Seattle right now and call a real estate agent. I don’t want to go back to the house. The sooner it’s gone, the better. I—I don’t know what to do with everything in it.”
She looks at me pleadingly. She’s tried so hard to hold herself together. I can see how tired and sad she is. I definitely notice the way her shoulders curl in until her belly button looks as though it’s touching her spine.