Chapter Four
The therapist sits across from me, staring down at her notebook that’s in her lap as she taps her pencil against it.
When I first walked in, I didn’t know what to expect.
As soon as I met her, though, I relaxed slightly.
She’s nice enough. I should have known that she would be considering she’s friends with Evelyn and works with her at the hospital.
Evelyn is like a big sister to me. There’s no way she would let me talk to someone who didn’t pass the vibe check.
That hasn’t made opening up to her any easier, though.
“So you’re a senior?” she asks, trying to fill the silence.
“Yeah, I just graduated. I will be leaving town soon.”
Not soon enough.
“And you lost your mom?”
“Yep.”
This is stupid. So fucking stupid. Why did I agree to this again?
The therapist sighs heavily, and guilt kicks in.
I know I could be more open to all of this, but I can’t help it.
I don’t want to be here. When the topic of therapy came up, I was open to it, but now I’m not so sure.
I didn’t want to do online sessions like Natalie, but now I’m wondering if that would be a better option.
“Can I ask you something, Harlee?”
“Sure.”
“Do you want to be here?” she asks point-blank.
I take a deep breath as I think about her question. Saying no right out would be a lie. Part of me wants to be here. To feel better, but the other part feels like healing will be a disservice to my mom. Like I’m forgetting her.
“Kind of. I know I need help, but this is just a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
She smiles softly. “Okay, good. I had to ask because therapy only works if you want to be here. Otherwise, you are wasting not only your time but mine.”
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
She waves away my apology. “Trust me, you aren’t the first one to come to therapy and have an awkward first session. It will get better as we go.”
“If you say so.”
“How about we end today’s session, and we schedule another one for later in the week. How does that sound?”
“That works for me,” I mumble.
“Okay, schedule the next appointment with the secretary outside, and I’ll see you then.”
Standing, I offer her a weak smile. “See you then.”
I leave her office and head toward her secretary. After the next appointment is scheduled, I head outside.
I see him as soon as I step outside.
Bullet is leaning up against his bike with his ankles and arms crossed, waiting for me.
I have mixed feelings when I see him. I love seeing him, but at the same time, I hate the reason why he’s here.
I hate that he feels the need to make sure that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.
I hate that our relationship has changed as much as it has in the last couple of years.
Sighing, I walk toward him. “What are you doing here?”
“Just waiting on you,” he tells me.
Annoyance runs through me. “You didn’t really think I’d be here, did you? You thought I would ditch.”
He shrugs. “Well, we both know you have a history of not doing what you said you were going to do.”
His remark cuts deep. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but take offense to it. When did I become the unreliable one? People used to be able to depend on me, but now they all look at me warily.
“Yeah, well, you can stand down. I told you I would be here, and I am. So you can stop worrying about me now.”
Bullet scoffs. “I’m always going to worry about you, Harlee.
I’m not going to leave you alone, and I’m going to keep checking in because I fucking care.
I want you to be okay, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you are.
Even if that means waiting outside of your therapy appointments to make sure you go.
Besides, there’s something we need to talk about. ”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s up?”
Bullet looks around before looking back at me. “Do you want to get lunch or something first?”
Unease starts to roll through me. “I’m not hungry. Just tell me what’s going on. You’re making me nervous.”
If there’s one thing I appreciate about Bullet, it’s that he never beats around the bush, so the fact that he’s taking his time tells me something’s wrong.
“It’s about your dad.”
My breath catches. My dad? Oh god, did he finally do it? Did he drink himself to death? Did he wreck his bike? Is he gone? Am I really an orphan now?
Bullet steps forward and rests his hands on my shoulders as he shakes me gently.
“Breathe,” he demands.
I take a deep breath and then another.
“Good girl,” he says in a low, calming tone as he brushes the hair away from my face.
“Jacob, just tell me what’s going on with my dad!”
“He’s going to rehab.”
I shake my head, caught off guard. Wait, what? Rehab?
“While he’s gone, you’re going to be staying at the clubhouse until further notice.”
I raise my hand, cutting him off. “Wait, back up. What do you mean he’s going to rehab? And what do you mean, I’m going to be staying at the clubhouse? Who the fuck decided that?”
“The brothers sat your dad down and told him that he needed to get clean, and he agreed. As for you staying at the clubhouse, it was the club’s decision. None of us wanted you to be on your own for however long he’s gone.”
“Wait, are you guys telling me that you set my dad down and had an intervention with him?” I ask, shocked.
“I mean, yeah, if you want to put it that way, I guess we did.”
My anger starts to rise. “Then you all decided I’m moving in with all of you?”
“Yes.”
I begin to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Out of all the things he could have told me, I wasn’t expecting this. Never this.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen in case you guys forgot I’m an adult and you can’t tell me what to do. I’m not staying there.”
“Fine, if you want to stay at your house, I’ll stay at your house with you.” He shrugs as if it’s a done deal.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. If you’re going to stay there, so am I. In case you forgot, William is still out there causing problems, and until he’s taken care of, you’re stuck with one of us. Now, would you rather have me or one of the other guys?”
It hits me then. Whether I like it or not, this is happening. Once again, I have no say in what’s happening with my life.
I shouldn’t even be surprised.
“What if I leave town?” I ask.
“You have been threatening to do so for years, so I guess I’ll have to make sure you get to where you are going safely. If that’s what you really want, I’ll make sure you get it.” I hate the sadness in his eyes at the words.
I have always said I planned to leave, but the truth is, it was all in anger. I wanted to leave the pain and agony. I never truly wanted to leave my home.
“Fine. Whatever. Just stay out of my way,” I mutter as I turn, walking away from him.
“Where are you going?” he yells after me.
Ignoring him, I raise my hand, giving him my middle finger.
Fuck him. Fuck my dad. Fuck the club and the girls.
Fuck all of them.
Reaper bangs the gavel, starting the meeting, but I don’t look away from the man sitting across from me.
Honk is leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his head is bowed.
He must feel my eyes on him because he looks up and right at me.
He looks as if he’s aged ten years. His hair is grayer, his wrinkles are deeper, and his eyes are sunken in.
The alcohol is definitely taking its toll.
Despite that, he looks sober or at least semi-sober.
Reaper clears his throat. “Honk called this meeting because he wanted to talk to all of us before he leaves.” Reaper looks toward him. “Start at any time, brother.”
Honk looks down as he wrings his hands together, looking conflicted. “I owe all of you an apology for how I’ve been the last few years. I haven’t taken her death well.”
It kills me that he can’t even say her name.
Eleanor.
“You don’t owe us shit, Honk,” Wrath tells him.
Honk shakes his head. “No, I do. If it weren’t for you guys, I would probably be dead somewhere. So thank you.”
“We got you, brother,” Colt tells him.
Under the table, I squeeze my fists. I get that he lost his wife and he regrets his actions, but I still can’t help but be mad. Harlee doesn’t deserve half the shit he’s put her through since his wife’s passing.
In my head, I hear Natalie reminding me to give him grace.
Honk clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was hoping you guys would keep an eye on Harlee for me while I’m gone.”
Reaper nods. “We got Harlee, don’t worry about it. We have a plan in place.” Reaper looks at me. “Did you talk to her?”
“I did. She decided that she wanted to stay home, so I’m going to stay there with her for the time being.”
Reaper dips his chin. “Good, and when you’re busy, we’ll have one of the other brothers with her at all times.”
Honk grunts. “I feel the need to remind all of you that my daughter is off-limits and not to be touched. Harlee’s better than all of you in this room, and I don’t want to have to kill one of you for taking advantage of my little girl.”
My jaw clenches as anger rolls through me. Take advantage of her? Really? It’s almost as if he doesn’t know his daughter at all. Know me at all.
“I need you guys to keep her safe. I can’t lose her. I don’t want her to be the next victim because of club business,” Honk says.
I shut my eyes as my anger evaporates, and sympathy takes its place.
It breaks my fucking heart that he can’t realize that Eleanor died by accident.
Her death had nothing to do with the club.
All we know from that night is that it was pouring rain, and that she ran into a light pole.
We don’t know if she hydroplaned or if something ran in front of her.
Either way, we lost her, and we lost him at the same time.
The guys look around and shift awkwardly, not wanting to get into this again.
“We got you. She will be safe. You have our word,” Midnight tells him.
Once again, Honk looks over at me. “I know you two are close, and I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I’m serious when I tell you to stay the hell away from her.
My little girl’s not a sweetbutt that you can fuck around with and then walk away from when you’re done.
If you ever touch her, I will kill you.”
Is that really what he thinks?
I squeeze my fists tight under the table and tell him, “I would never betray you like that. Harlee is my best friend, and the only thing I want to do is make sure she’s okay.”
“Best friend,” he scoffs. “You have no business being her friend.”
“Yes, best friend. Hell, as far as she’s concerned, I’m the only one who cares if she lives or dies. If you really cared so much about her, you would have gotten yourself together before now, before I had to step in, before the club had to step in,” I hiss at him.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” he rasps.
I nod. “You’re right, I don’t, but what I do know is that I’m the only one who’s taking care of her since Eleanor passed.
I’m the one who dragged her out of parties.
I’m the one who made sure she went to class every day.
I’m the one who made sure she didn’t do something fucking stupid while you were drunk off your ass, and yet you come in here and insult me, threatening to kill me for taking care of your girl?
Fuck you,” I snap, my anger finally getting the better of me.
“Shit,” Colt mutters under his breath.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Reaper pinches the bridge of his nose.
The corner of Honk’s eye twitches as his jaw clenches.
I wait for him to do something, anything. Give me some sort of reason to believe that he actually means what he’s saying and not just trying to appease us.
Once again, though, he lets me down.
Honk gets up and storms out of the room wordlessly.
“I got him,” Chap says as he stands, heading after him.
“Well, that went about as well as I expected it to,” Trigger murmurs.
“Are we done here?” Hawk asks.
“Actually, no. We need to talk about William,” Reaper says.
“What’s that fucker done now?” Wrath sighs.
Reaper tips his chin toward Trigger.
Trigger adjusts his glasses and speaks. “As you all know, he’s decided to run for mayor. So far, everyone is eating out of the palm of his hand.”
“Seriously? People are really falling for his shit?” Colt asks, shaking his head.
“I thought politicians were supposed to be family men and women. Last I checked, he wasn’t married,” Pinky says.
Trigger shakes his head. “That’s not necessarily true, but a stereotype. With that said, though, he has had a secret daughter come out of the woodwork. Or at least that’s what the chatter said.”
“Wait, what? Natalie never said anything about a kid,” Reaper says, referring to his old lady.
Before Reaper and Natalie got together, she was William’s woman. Or more accurately, his punching bag.
“I highly suspect that she didn’t know. The girl is twenty,” Trigger tells him.
Reaper shakes his head. “That’s not possible. He was prospecting then with me. It would have come up.”
“I’m just telling you what the intel is saying,” Trigger says.
“Do you think she’s really his daughter or someone he hired to try and gain more votes?” Wrath asks.
“I mean, that’s a possibility, but that’s risky, isn’t it?” Colt asks.
“I would think so. Surely they won’t believe he’s a father if there are no pictures. I mean, shit, I don’t even have social media, but I know that there are still photos of the twins and me from when they were born out there,” Midnight mutters.
“I don’t know, but I plan on looking into it further. It only came to my attention before we came in here,” Trigger says.
Reaper nods as he looks at his watch. “Keep us updated. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to take Honk to the facility before we are late.”
“Good luck,” I mutter.
Wrath winces as he looks at me. “You know that what he was saying isn’t personal, right?”
“Yeah,” I lie.
They can tell me it wasn’t personal all they want, but I know the truth. Honk was always wary about my friendship with Harlee. I never thought anything of it because when we met, I didn’t look at her as anything but Honk’s kid.
Things have changed now, but it won’t matter.
I’m not good enough for his daughter, but the truth is, right now, he isn’t either. He wants to bash me for taking care of her, then he had better step up and be a better father.
If not, I’m afraid he will lose her for good.