Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Rage
The next week is busy. Between trips to L.A.
to work out with Toby, my regular tasks at Shadow Security, and spending time with Metal and the club, I feel like I’m neglecting Luna.
She hasn’t said anything—she knows I’m busy and she’s had a lot on her plate at work too—but I feel bad.
She hasn’t been herself lately, but I can’t put my finger on what’s going on with her.
I’m sure part of it is hormones and everything to do with her PMOS.
But there’s a tiny part of me that feels like there’s something else.
Something she either doesn’t want to share or…
can’t. The thing is, I can’t imagine what it could be.
According to her, I know all her secrets now, so there shouldn’t be anything she’s keeping from me that would impact her on a daily level.
Does it have something to do with Roger sending her those stupid packages? She told me she didn’t want me to get involved and as long as he’s only sending her shit like black roses, I want to respect her wishes.
Her anxiety also might be pregnancy-related and that makes more sense.
She’s sensitive about the topic. Or rather, it often feels like she’s defensive about it.
She’s always quick to point out how long it could take, or that it might not happen at all, and from where I’m sitting, that’s some sort of self-defense mechanism for her own sanity.
Honestly, I’ve never thought about infertility. I always assumed that when and if the time came, my partner would get pregnant. Having a partner who may not be able to get pregnant or carry a child to term isn’t something I ever considered.
When I jumped into this, I somewhat naively assumed we’d hit pay dirt.
I don’t ever think in terms of failure. It’s not part of my DNA.
But seeing Luna’s reaction when she got her period was jarring for me.
Not because I’m upset with her or anything like that, but because reality hit a little closer to home than I’m comfortable with.
I’m a take charge kind of guy—if there’s a problem, I figure out how to solve it.
That’s simply not possible in this case.
There are options, obviously. We have great insurance through Shadow Security, so we could see every specialist in the country if we wanted to, but I don’t think Luna wants to go through that.
Not yet. And I don’t want her to. I’ve done some reading and having to give herself injections, and live life on a schedule of meds and procedures sounds awful.
My goal is to just be there for her.
Except I haven’t been.
Training, as always, is somewhat all-encompassing.
Driving back and forth to L.A. affords me a better facility and opportunity to train, but it takes a lot of time.
And I don’t want to stay up there because not only would it mean being away from Luna even more, it also makes it more difficult for me to stay on top of my responsibilities at work.
Or check on Metal. Daniil, Grim, and I have started an unofficial schedule of keeping an eye on him when he’s out with the girls but it’s a thankless job.
He’s doing all the stereotypical things you would expect a guy that’s grieving to do—drinking, smoking, and getting into fights. He’s not doing the girls any favors when he scares away their customers, and they’ve gently complained to Silver.
There’s no good solution and even though technically this isn’t our responsibility, at the end of the day, he’s our friend. Metal was there when Allora was taken and didn’t hesitate to put himself in danger to get her back. Or to distribute street justice when we caught the guy.
We owe him one.
And it’s not like he chose for his girlfriend to be murdered.
We’re also fairly certain we’re right about that because since the club took over protection, there hasn’t been another incident. The only question now is how long they can keep it up.
My thoughts are a little chaotic while I’m out on my morning run.
I normally run five miles three times a week, and that won’t change while I’m training for the fight.
I have to have endurance in addition to fighting skills, which comes into play whether I’m in an actual UFC-style fight or my job as a bodyguard.
Having a dozen things on my mind makes the run go faster and by the time I’m back at headquarters and in the shower, I’m a little calmer.
I’m driving up to L.A. tonight and I’m going to try to convince Luna to come with me.
She’s taken on managing some details for Candy, and it seems like she’s enjoying being able to contribute.
And maybe, if we’re together in the evening with no plans, we can talk about whatever’s bothering her.
“I found out something interesting about Candy,” she tells me when we’re on our way to L.A.
“Oh?” I glance over at her.
“She’s broke,” she says. “And I don’t mean, like, she has a lot of debt and whatever, even though that’s true, but she has barely anything in her checking account and nothing coming in. I don’t know how she’ll pay her bills this month.”
“Maybe Garth is helping her,” I suggest.
“He doesn’t have money either,” she says. “They’re both broke as fuck. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless they’re taking money from the charity to live on. I can’t find an account for that, though.”
“It’s probably in someone else’s name,” I say reasonably.
“Sure, but it’s supposed to be a special account, specifically for nonprofit events and organizations. I also couldn’t find any permits or paperwork that’s been filed in the City of Los Angeles for the event either.”
I look over at her again. “Honey, I know doing the right thing is part of who you are, but maybe we let them handle the logistics and we just focus on our part.”
“What if he runs this event and then disappears with the money?” she demands. “It’s supposed to be for cancer.”
“If he does something like that, then we would get involved. But he hasn’t done anything wrong yet. What are you really looking for?”
She’s quiet for a beat. “I don’t know. Something just feels…off.”
I reach across the console for her hand. “You’ve been going through a lot lately. And that’s not meant to sound condescending, just—”
“But it does.” Her voice is flat and I can see her lips are pursed in annoyance.
That’s never good. The last thing I want to do is upset her even more.
So, I back pedal a little.
“You asked me to be patient with you,” I say carefully, “because you’ve been feeling hormonal and dealing with things that I don’t completely understand. I’m trying to respect that by offering a differing perspective. That’s all. If you don’t want me to push back, then I won’t.”
The silence in the car practically crackles between us.
I have no doubt she’s irritated, but I also know her well enough at this point to know she’s listening. Thinking with that big, beautiful brain of hers.
Finally, she lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know you’re right. But didn’t you ever feel something in your gut?”
I chuckle. “All the fucking time. And it’s kept me alive more than once.
But I’ve also been wrong a few times as well.
Our guts work as a warning, but it’s not factual.
Sometimes we’re wrong. It’s that simple.
I’m not even saying you’re wrong here. All I’m saying is, we have demanding jobs, as well as the situation with your physical and mental health, so if we have to prioritize something, I think it should be those, instead of something that doesn’t truly impact us.
“To be honest, between training and worrying about Metal, I don’t really give a damn what Garth and Candy are up to.
If they steal all the money, and I find out about it, I’m going to kick his ass because the charity component is the only reason I agreed to this.
But unless and until that happens, I’d rather think about issues that are more important. ”
Her fingers are still laced with mine, and I feel the tension start to drain out of her.
“You’re right. I guess the hacker in me can’t help it.
Once I get hold of something, I’m like a dog with a bone, determined to find all the answers.
And not being able to find out who hacked my bank account and credit card has really pissed me off.
The thing is, I would have to do some really illegal shit to get the information, and we both know how that worked out for me before. ”
I chuckle. “Right. So let’s not do anything to get either of us arrested, okay? I love the fact that you’re a bit of a princess, and that you’re my princess, but princesses typically don’t do well in prison.”
She laughs. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’ll let this go. Although, I do look pretty good in orange.”
“What about me?” I tease. “How do I look in orange?”
“Not as good as you look naked.”
“Ditto.”
We chuckle together and she doesn’t seem annoyed anymore.
“What would you think about planning a little get-away for a couple of days right after the fight? Maybe drive up to Santa Barbara, get a place on the beach, and spend two days doing nothing but eating and making love.”
“That sounds heavenly.”
“Why don’t you find a place and make a reservation for the Sunday through Wednesday after the fight? We’ll leave L.A. Sunday morning and drive home Wednesday afternoon.”
“I can do that.” She nods. “Do we have a budget?”
“No?” I glance at her again. “I mean, we probably shouldn’t spend ten grand a night or anything, but I can afford a nice resort for three days.”
“I can pay half,” she says firmly.
“This is my treat,” I say, shaking my head. “Doing something nice for you after you putting up with my fucked-up schedule for six weeks.”
She only hesitates a few seconds. “I don’t put up with anything—you’re fine. But if you’d like to take me away, I won’t say no. It’s been a while since I’ve had any kind of vacation.”
“Same for me.”
“Then I guess we have a plan.”
“I’ll give you my credit card so you can make the reservation.”
“Okay.” She’s already on her phone. “Ooohhh…there’s a place on the water.” She starts talking about soaking bathtubs, gourmet dining, and a bunch of other amenities.
Exactly what I wanted her to be focused on.
I’d like to think my job as her partner is to talk her off the ledge when she needs it, support her when I can’t, and distract her when it’s appropriate.
Hopefully, I’ve made the right choice.