Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Razor knocked on the office door at the clubhouse. He’d received a text from Teller saying clubhouse in thirty, then nothing else.
“Come in,” came Teller’s voice from inside.
Razor turned the knob and pushed the door open. Teller wasn’t alone. Vicious stood against the far wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
“You needed to see me, Prez?” Razor asked.
“Come in, Razor. And close the door.”
Well, shit. That didn’t sound good.
“Take a seat,” Teller said.
“If all the same, I’d rather stand.”
“Suit yourself.” Teller tossed the pen onto the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “Here’s the deal, you two assholes are gonna talk it out or fight it out.”
He paused, looking between them. “I’d hate to see two of my closest…friends—”
The look Razor and Vicious shot him made Teller flip them both off without hesitation.
“As I was saying,” he continued. “I’d hate to see the two of you plummet one another over a misunderstanding. But believe me, I’ll sell tickets to the fucking show.”
“I told you, I’m good, Teller.”
Teller’s gaze shifted to Vicious. “You’re so far from good that you can’t see straight.”
Then his attention snapped back. “And you…” He dropped his arms. “Is Lottie your woman, or are you just dicking around?”
“I’m trying to figure some shit out,” Razor said, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of Lottie. “But I’d appreciate it if asshole over there would get off my dick about her.”
“Lottie’s Sway’s best friend,” Vicious shot back. “That makes it my business to make sure you, or any other jackleg in this fucking club, don’t use her.”
Razor barked a humorless laugh. “Could’ve fooled me. Until dinner the other night, Sway barely spoke to Lottie. And you.” He pointed at him. “According to your sweet wife, you’ve been the one running interference.
He tilted his head. “What’s that about, asshole?”
Razor crossed his arms over his chest. “Before you married Sway, those two were thick as thieves. Now your big man on campus, and somehow Lottie’s the one getting friend-blocked.”
And there it was, Teller thought. The root of the whole damn problem. Vicious hadn’t done the one thing Teller told him to do—talk to Razor about getting Sway with a specialist.
“Vicious…” Teller started, then stopped at the look on the brother’s face.
“Don’t.”
Teller’s jaw tightened. “If you don’t, I will.”
“What the fuck are the two of you talking about?” Razor snapped, feeling like there were two entirely different conversations happening in the same room.
Teller held Vicious’s stare as the man gave a slow shake of his head. “Vicious…”
“Teller.”
Vicious shoved off the wall and dropped into a chair, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Sway’s…we’ve…” He blew out a breath. “Fuck.”
Razor looked between the two of them, finally catching the torment written all over Vicious’s face. “Are you getting a divorce?”
Vicious shook his head once. “No.” His voice roughened, “We need a specialist. One for problems with pregnancies.”
“Congrat…” Razor started, then stopped at the subtle shake of Teller’s head. Pulling out the chair beside Vicious, he sat down. Leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees, his voice lost some of its edge, “What’s going on?”
“After…” Vicious started, only for the words to die in his throat.
He cleared it and tried again. Sway’s kidnapping.
Her torture still kept him up at night. Once he’d gotten her back, he’d held on too tight.
Smothered her in security, rules, and protection.
Some days, he worried he’d been so overbearing about keeping her safe that he’d somehow played a part in losing their first baby.
“Two months after the attack, we found out Sway was pregnant.” Vicious stared at the floor. “We decided to keep the baby and not do a paternity test.”
His jaw tightened. “We lost the baby at the end of the first trimester.”
Razor leaned back slightly. “That happens more than you think, Vicious.”
Vicious let out a breath. “Then she got pregnant again. And again…we lost the baby.”
“We made the decision not to try again for a year. You know, we needed to make sure everything is good with her first.” Vicious shook his head. “Now, Sway’s pregnant again, and I don’t know how to make it okay for her this time if …”
He swallowed hard, gaze dropping back to the floor. “If something goes wrong.”
Razor reached out, resting a hand on Vicious’s shoulder. “We’ll get you two to the best doctor we can find. Make sure Sway and the baby are healthy.”
Vicious let out a rough breath. “I’m sorry. I was so worried about Sway that I blocked Lottie out at every step.” He shook his head. “Got to the point where I was the one texting her back most of the time. All Sway could do was cry.”
His jaw tightened. “God, it was so awful watching her blame herself for shit that wasn’t her fault.”
It was hard to watch one of the toughest fuckers he’d ever known come undone.
But Razor was glad he’d said it out loud. Now, he knew how to help his brother and his woman.
“I’m sorry. I let my emotions get the better of me when it came to Lottie. I’ll figure my shit out soon. Promise,” Razor said, looking between Teller and Vicious.
“Alright, now that that’s done, don’t you sad sacks feel better,” Teller said, clearly trying not to let his own emotions show.
“Asshole.”
“Fucker.”
Teller didn’t do soft shit. Didn’t want to. “This.” He twirled his finger, gesturing around the room. “Stays in here. Got it.”
“Yep.”
“No worries.”
“Alright, you two hug or something and get out of here. I’ve got shit to do,” Teller said, waving them off.
Once the two men walked out, he dropped into his oversized desk chair. After a beat, he pulled open the small side drawer, lifted a stack of papers, and pulled out a photograph.
A pretty blonde stared back at him—hair barely brushing her shoulders, eyes carrying something haunted beneath the surface.
Teller’s thumb brushed over her face. A quiet sigh slipped out of him. He set the picture back inside the drawer, returned the paper, and shut it.
Just like he’d shut off his heart when she left.