Chapter 25
CLUTCH - NOTHING LEFT TO brEAK
You hear people talk about that AHA moment, when blinders get removed or what happens when a single domino falls… or the butterfly effect.
That was Bex.
It had been another week since Kori had been dragged back into the club, since Mara came back like a hurricane and finished off what Bex had started.
The club was broken, tearing itself apart from the inside.
Meg had stormed back into the clubhouse not ten minutes after running out, with Lacey’s laptop and phone, calling everyone fucking idiots and mumbling something about how she thought she was one of the lucky ones, before making her way out back.
Angel and Mara had disappeared into his office to talk. Hours later, after Mara had left to go stay with Dani and Four, he had emerged from his office with a haunted look on his face. And that had pretty much been his state of being ever since.
Axel hadn’t spoken much about what was going on with him, but he had come back yesterday with a murderous intensity I have never seen in him before and after not getting any new information from Razor’s followers in the shed, Axel put them to rest.
Cypher was even more solitary than usual since Meg walked out of the club a week ago and no one had seen her since. Dani mentioned she was staying in the apartment above her bakery.
The pieces had been put in motion to lure Razor out, making sure Mara had been seen out with her brother. Talking to the right people about why she was back and making sure she was seen leaving the doctors office.
Torch and a few other brothers were at Mara’s side anytime she left Four’s, and everyone was on high alert.
A weight had settled permanently on my chest, a pain that only seemed to intensify, like a fist in my chest that squeezed and twisted when I thought of everything that happened to get us here.
Anytime I saw someone that came close to resembling her, my heart would pound, my chest would tighten and my breath would stall until inevitably they would turn out to be someone other than my wife.
This had been the longest we had ever been apart and I felt like I wanted to climb out of my own skin. Mara refused to tell me anything else other than Bex was safe and would stay that way if we took care of those who posed a threat to her.
But she wasn’t safe. She wouldn’t be, couldn’t be, until I'd righted all the wrongs I caused, that I'd allowed this club to cause.
I had a spark of hope when Cypher waved me over after a long day of following leads and chasing ghosts with nothing to show for it. When I had approached his table he didn't even bother to look up at me, just took one hand off his keyboard and slid a folder my way.
Ledger, who was helping track down money that Cypher had uncovered in an offshore account, looked up at me, with a look of almost pity.
His dark brown eyes dropped to the folder and then back up to lock on mine.
“You can’t unsee certain things, brother.
I don’t know if you want to know what he found. ”
I grabbed the folder and held it against my chest, knowing he was probably right…
but I couldn’t get the look in Bex's eyes out of my head.
The way she locked down her emotions when Angel was interrogating her.
The way she remained standing after she was hit by a man much bigger than her and barely reacted.
Ledger tried again though, “Clutch, maybe there's a reason she didn’t want you to know.”
With those last words it felt like my lungs were collapsing, like I couldn’t get in enough air. I didn’t respond, I couldn’t. I turned and made my way to our room, not stopping when I heard my name, the hallway felt like it was closing in on itself.
I finally made it to our room and had to try to close the door several times for it to stay shut. Stumbling to the bed, the folder in my hands felt like it weighed more than it did.
I sat at the edge of our empty bed, hands trembling, staring down at the folder that felt like it held so many answers… but I also knew I wouldn't be the same after opening it.
I sat there, folder in hand, until water drops fell and started to discolor the folder. It took me longer than it should to realize that I was crying.
I was crying…
Men don't cry son...
I'll give you something to cry about...
Men are tough Declan, crying is for bitches...
I was crying… Sucking in a shaky breath, I closed my eyes, opened the folder and then opened them.
Eyes locking on a picture of a little girl who looked like how I envisioned our children would.
Except in my dreams our kids had sparkly eyes just like their mom.
This little girl’s eyes were the same colour but they had no warmth, no sparkle. .. they were flat... hollow.
Just like they were that night...
My hands shook harder as my eyes drifted from the picture to the file details, Molly Kent age 10 suspected trafficking victim, parents never reported her missing, a friend from school brought her absence up to a teacher and a missing person’s report had finally been filed…
My hands shook harder as I continued to read, at one point I dropped the folder and barely made it to the bathroom before the bile, guilt and anguish made their way out of me.
On shaky legs I made my way back to our bed, carefully picking up the folder and finishing reading every hospital report, every detail the police had included in her file that was far too big for such a small child. I forced myself to read every word, every page.
When I was finally done reading my eyes were blurry and the tears hadn’t stopped, I didn't realize I was gasping until the door to our room opened and Ledger was standing there with a look of pain on his face.
I looked away, ashamed of myself. Not for my tears but for everything else.
For the man I thought I was and the one who I was actually seeing now that she held up a mirror to each and every one of us.
My eyes tracked across the room, the empty dresser catching my eye, then the closet… the door still partially open revealing the clothes I bought her still hanging there like ghosts.
My jaw tightens, as the bile climbs back up my throat.
Those stupid fucking dresses.
Tight leather. Short skirts. Boots like the club girls wear.
I bought them thinking I was helping her fit in. I thought she was being difficult by not accepting them. Now it just feels like another place where I missed the point. Before I realize what I’m doing I am across the room, grabbing the hangers and ripping them off the rod.
The metal screeches and an animalistic sound rips from my chest.
Clothes fall to the floor in a useless pile, as my fist slams into the closet door. Wood cracks and pain shoots through my hand but I barely feel it.
“Fuck!”
The word echoes through the room.
My chest heaves, but I don’t stop. I roar, a sound so full of regret and pain, turning in frantic circles in the room.
Her file open on our bed, a bed I made her sleep in, a space she didn't feel safe in… I don’t think, I move.
The bed gets tossed, the side table trashed, the lamp thrown across the room, cracking against the wall.
I vaguely notice more people standing at the door, but I don’t care.
Memories, times together are flooding my mind and it feels like I can't breathe.
When there is nothing left to break, when there is nothing more for me to focus my rage and pain on I crumble to the ground, crying… gasping and trying to pull in enough air to breathe.
I feel so lost, so out of control.
I did this.
I…
I bury my face in my hands trying to calm my heart. Minutes pass and then I feel someone sit to my right, and then my left. Then I hear debris being moved, glass crunching, a chair being righted and then nothing.
No one says a word. What can you say?
We thought we were the good guys, we thought we were men, family, loyal, protectors… What a fucking joke. We are the problem, this club is the problem. We have a lot of work to do to fix the damage we have done…
But we have to.
I have to.
I don’t know how much time passes before I lift my head, to my left is Ledger, my right Axel. In the chair is Torch, and at the door stand Angel and Cypher.
We stayed like that for a while, taking in the wreckage. Letting our reflections show us the truth. We need to do better, be better.
Because if a butterfly can be brave enough to flap its delicate wings in a storm… We can be brave enough to face what we have done and become what we thought we were all along.