Chapter 11
Vee
Itoss and turn all night. Sleep hangs just out of my grasp, taunting me with a peaceful slumber yet never giving it to me.
I’d love to be able to blame my lack of sleep on the partying taking place in the club, but it wouldn’t be the complete truth.
While I could hear some of it, the room Luca gave me is far enough away from the main room that the noise was more like a dull thudding throb into the wee hours of the morning.
All I could do was lay on the narrow bed in the room at my brother’s clubhouse, staring at the ceiling riddled with old water stains. I spent countless minutes devising stories about what caused them and why Luca never thought to paint over them, lessening the eyesore they created.
I tried to keep my mind from spiraling, but it didn’t work.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them.
Felt them. Heard the echoes of their voices, which only made my chest ache.
A reminder that if I wanted Hank, I’d have to choose.
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Their friendship, their brotherhood, couldn’t be fractured because of me.
I know without a doubt that in the long run, they’d choose their club over me.
Running, hiding from them felt like the only option I had left.
That’s the lie I told myself when I packed my bag. When I locked my apartment door behind me without looking back. When I went to work and asked for time off. When I drove straight to the clubhouse after I saw Hank with her.
I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t hiding.
I was merely taking time to think. Putting some space between me and them.
Breathing, while I came to terms with a life without them as people I love.
Moving them firmly into the friend zone.
I couldn’t erase them from my life completely.
Doing that would mean distancing myself from Ash and Arizona, finding a new job, or moving to another state.
And I’d just gotten Luca back in my life so that wasn’t an option.
But with each passing hour, the truth wove its way deeper into my gut.
A firm knot that told me the reality of what I was doing.
Being a coward. I need to face the truth that a future with the three of them is out of the picture for me.
That as much as I’d love to have what Ash and Arizona achieved with their men, it’s not in the cards for me.
Just like them, I can’t choose. The only difference is they didn’t have to.
I roll onto my side, pulling the blanket tighter around me, though it does nothing to warm the hollow ache in my chest.
Josh called last night. Just like he said he would. A man of his word.
I can still see how his name flashed on my phone, splashing light into a room of darkness. The way my pulse spiked instantly, betraying me. I hadn’t even realized I’d reached for it until my fingers were already hovering inches from the screen.
I let it ring.
Once. Twice.
Then again.
Each vibration felt like a tether pulling tighter, urging me to answer it. To tell him where I was and beg him to come and get me. My chest burned as I stared at the screen, my heart warring with my better judgment.
If I answered, I’d hear the concern in his voice. He’d ask where I was. If I was safe. Why I was running. He’d try to convince me that everything would be okay.
And I’d cave, even though I know that it wouldn’t.
Hank will never change his mind, and I won’t force him to. In the end, neither of us would be happy.
So I didn’t answer.
When the message came through later, it somehow hurt more than the missed calls.
Josh: I’m going to let you rest. But once I’m off my shift, I’m coming to your apartment.
Josh is smart, so I’m sure eventually he’ll figure out where I am, but he won’t be able to get to me. Not here. Not with Luca protecting me.
The guilt hit me immediately. I knew he’d be tired, and I hate the thought of him making that drive for nothing.
Hated knowing he’d show up anyway, just in case.
But if I answered—even to warn him—I knew myself too well.
One conversation would turn into another.
Into hours. Into promises and reassurances, and him convincing me that we could figure this out together.
And we couldn’t.
Not like this.
So I let the calls go to voicemail, left the messages unanswered, and then finally turned off my phone.
I’d hoped that Luke or Hank would reach out too. That my phone would light up with their names, that I’d know I wasn’t the only one lying awake, replaying everything, and hoping for some epiphany that never comes.
Luke, with his steady presence and unspoken understanding. Hank, with his intensity and his lines drawn so clearly in the sand of what he wanted.
But there were no calls, no messages. Just radio silence from them.
Maybe it was better that way. Maybe this was the universe stepping in where I couldn’t—forcing distance, forcing an ending.
Hank couldn’t share. He’d made that clear, even if it hurt him to say it.
And I couldn’t choose. The thought of cutting one of them out felt like what I imagine losing a limb would feel like.
A constant reminder of what you had and lost.
If I couldn’t have them all… then I didn’t want any of them.
When I look at my future, with them it’s not just one of them I see.
It’s all three. They're each so important to me that a life without one of them just doesn’t feel right.
It’s as if I was a puzzle made of four pieces.
Me and them. If one is missing then it’s not complete.
That realization hollowed me out.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the sting behind them, when a sharp knock cut through the quiet.
I sit up so fast in bed, my heart racing, and my head dizzy from the sudden movement.
My hand goes to my heart, trying to calm myself as I try to determine if it was just a dream.
For a split second, my thoughts jump to it being Josh, standing on the other side of the door.
Or Luke. Or Hank, somehow having tracked me down, without a word, ready to claim me.
To swear his devotion to me and that he miraculously found a way to share.
But I know that’s just a dream and not reality.
The knock comes again, harder this time.
I swing my legs off the side of the bed and stand, taking slow steps as I walk toward the door.
My hand on the handle, I’m about to open the door when I remember where I am.
That could be anyone on the other side of the door.
I take a deep breath, swallow hard and go to open my mouth before I hear a familiar, deep voice on the other side. “It’s me. Open up, sis.”
Relief hits me so fast my knees nearly buckle, and I almost fall to the floor. I should’ve known his ass wouldn’t let anyone near my room.
I turn the handle, and pull the door open to find my brother filling the frame, arms crossed, eyes already scanning my face like he could read every thought written there. He looks tired, jaw shadowed with stubble, his leather cut hanging open over a black t-shirt.
“Hey,” I manage to say, barely above a whisper.
“Jesus, VeeVee,” he mutters. “You look like hell. Did you sleep in the same clothes you were in last night?”
Changing clothes wasn’t something I was concerned about.
I manage to give him a weak laugh and step back into the room as he follows behind.
“Good morning to you too,” I grumble as I head straight to the bathroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
My mascara streaks down my face from crying, my hair looks like a rat’s nest as I run my fingers through my locks trying to tame them.
I hear Luca moving in the room, and when I peek my head out of the bathroom, I see he’s taken a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Come on, sis, let’s go eat and talk. It’s time to get out of this room and get some fresh air.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
“Yes, I do,” he grunts.
I shake my head and step out into the bedroom, picking up my bag from the floor and stomp back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Childish, I know, but it felt good to let out a little bit of anger.
My eyes drift over to the shower, and I think about taking one, making Luca wait on me. But I don’t. I close the lid of the toilet and set my bag on top of it. Opening it up, I rifle through my clothing before pulling out a t-shirt and my favorite hoodie.
Hank’s.
I don’t know why I packed it other than I needed to have a piece of him close to me.
I take off my shirt from last night and quickly change.
My body stiffens for a fleeting moment before I pull the hoodie over my head.
I shouldn’t be wearing it, but I’m just not strong enough to put it back in the bag.
I take another minute to wash my face and brush my teeth before calling it a day. There’s no one here I want to impress.
I take a deep breath, force a smile on my face and open the door. “Let’s go eat. I hope whoever cooked it at least knows how to make something edible.”
“Sorry, can’t promise that. Annie isn’t here today, so we have Lily. While she can suck a mean cock, her cookin’ skills aren’t as good. How are you at cookin’?”
“I’ll cook for you and Nic, but fuck all these other people,” I gripe.
He laughs, one that sounds so much stronger and grown than the ones I remember from him as a kid.
“Nah, you don’t need to fuck them. In fact, I’m gonna remind them that there’s no " no touching my sister policy in effect.”
“You’re so funny.” I tell him, smiling just slightly.
“Come on, let’s go. I’m starving, and knowin’ I don’t have to choke on that slop she’s makin’ just made the day a whole lot better.”
We leave the room, moving down the hallway to the main area of the clubhouse. While it’s quieter than when I showed up last night, there’s still people up and moving. Voices, laughter, and the scrape of chairs echo around me.
As we walk, conversations around us come to a halt.
I can feel their eyes on me. The men of the club and the women who see me as their competition.
One of the men stops Luca, and I step to the side trying to give them some privacy to talk.
I keep my eyes averted, not wanting to look directly at anyone.
But with Luca distracted, some of the conversations resume, their voices higher than a whisper.
“She’s still here,” a female states.
“Thought she’d be gone by now,” comes from a deeper male voice.
“She’s gonna be nothin’ but trouble,” someone else says.
I keep my chin up, my face collected. I’m not going to let them get to me.
A hand rests on my shoulder, and I pull away, my head turning toward the owner.
A wave of relief washes over me when I see it’s Luca.
He pulls me in closer to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
He keeps his voice low, as he dips his head closer to mine.
“You gotta be careful if you’re walking around alone,” he murmurs. “Not everyone’s thrilled you’re here.”
I glance over at him. “I heard. Is it because of me—or because of you?”
“Both,” he says. “Some of the brothers don’t like outsiders. Some don’t like complications. There’s some who don’t like that I’m the Prez. And the club girls…” he exhales slowly. “They definitely don’t like you.”
“But I’m not really an outsider. I’m your sister. And there’s no one here I want. Being a club girl isn’t a job I’m applying for.”
“If anyone gives you trouble,” he continues as we step into the kitchen, “you come straight to me. You hear me? Don’t try to handle it yourself.”
“I know how to take care of myself,” I remind him quietly.
“I know. But humor me and just do what I’m asking.”
“Fine. So, what do you want to eat?”
A huge grin spreads across his face. “Do you know the recipe for that breakfast casserole Momma used to make for us?”
“I do.”
His face lights up like the Fourth of July. “Can you make it?”
I smile widely at him and make my way over to the fridge to check if we have the ingredients, while he heads to the coffee pot.