Chapter 37 Dixon #2
"You're just saying that because you want to butter me up before you lose our bet.”
"Nah, man. I mean it." He buckled his seatbelt before hitting the start button; the Jag rumbled to life. "It's thoughtful. Shows you're thinking long-term. It’s something couples do, right? They get house plants together. Or a dog, but I don’t think Josie would be too happy about that.”
“Think Josie would like a boyfriend?” I placed the plant carefully in one of the cup holders.
“I think that’s something the whole pack has to discuss,” Tray shot me a glance and then winked. “Poor Mac is holding it together, but two cats might kill him.”
“Mac can suck it up.”
As we pulled out of the parking lot, Tray’s phone buzzed. Shortly after, my phone pinged, then pinged, then pinged again.
“Don’t even have to check to know what that is, but I suppose we should verify for purposes of the bet. Want everything to be above board.” I leaned back, fishing my phone out of my pocket.
“Shit,” Tray breathed out, though his voice held a humorous note.
“And that’s two hundred dollars. You can give me the IOU once we’re home.” I held the phone up so he could glance at it as we idled at a stoplight. The cashier had even gotten a photo of security footage that showed us at her counter.
"How the hell did she even get the security footage?" Tray shook his head in disbelief. "That was fast, even for social media."
I scrolled through the comments, my mood darkening with each one I read.
"Look at this shit. 'Dixon St. James buying plants for his secret girlfriend.
' 'Tray Rivers spotted grocery shopping like a normal person.
' And this one..." I paused, jaw clenching.
"'Oblivion Haze members spotted acting domestic. Is this the end of their wild ways?'"
"At least they don't know about Tessa," Tray pointed out, pulling through the intersection as the light turned green.
"Yet." I locked my phone and shoved it back in my pocket. "Fuck, I should have just ordered something online. Now every gossip blog is going to be speculating about who I'm buying plants for."
"Hey." Tray's voice was gentle but firm. "Don't let them ruin this for you. You picked something perfect for Tessa, and that's what matters. Not what some random internet strangers think."
I glanced down at the plant; it bobbed slightly as we hit a pothole. Maybe Tray was right. I needed to block out the goddamn noise and focus on what was truly important—Tessa.
Making her feel at home.
Making her feel happy.
Making her see that I wasn’t just a mindless brute.
"But that's exactly what I am, isn't it?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Tray shot me a sharp look as he navigated through traffic. "What the hell are you talking about?"
I hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
“I’m an ogre,” I admitted, voice at full volume now. “I want Tessa to see the guy I used to be. Before Rick died. Before jail. Before this Alpha shit got out of hand.” I hit my chest weakly, then dropped my hand, arm feeling limp.
“Stop it, Dixon. You are one of the best men I’ve ever met. No Alpha can stop what happens as they age without mating. It’s not your fault.” Tray reached over to squeeze my knee affectionately.
"Come on, man. You've seen the headlines.
'Dixon St. James' Latest Bar Fight.' 'Oblivion Haze Guitarist Arrested Again.
' I'm now the guy who solves problems with his fists.
Fuck, how many headaches have I given Catalina over the last year?
" I stared out the window at the palm trees blurring past. "What if Tessa sees those articles? What if she thinks that's all I am? She probably didn’t see any of it while homeless. I want to make a good impression now, so if she sees that shit later, she won’t think the worst of me. "
"Dix—"
"I punched a wall yesterday, because the frozen blueberries were iced over.
" I laughed bitterly. "Real mature, right? I ignore the damn things for weeks, and then I get pissed when they’re covered in freezer burn.
Meanwhile, Mac's cooking her gourmet meals, Ryder's probably composing her a fucking sonnet, and you.
.." I gestured vaguely at him. "You make everyone feel like sunshine just walked into the room. "
Tray was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was unusually serious. "You want to know what I see when I look at you?"
"Enlighten me,” I grumbled, staring down at my hands now. I couldn’t help but think of all the damage they’d caused, all the shit they’d broken, all the people they’d hurt. I’d even hurt Tray. Broken his fucking ribs.
"I see a man who would die for his pack," Tray said firmly. "A man who went to juvie without fighting it because he believes in accountability. A man who carries the weight of Rick's death like it's his personal cross to bear, even though we all know it wasn't your fault."
“It was my fault. I—”
Tray cut me off. “Yeah, you bought the drugs because he asked. You have paid your dues for that, Dix. Stop carrying the burden, man.”
He turned onto Sunset Boulevard, the late afternoon sun glinting off the storefronts.
Passing by all the fancy boutiques with their windows of luxury items made me glance down at the plant again.
Rather than feeling like I could have chosen better, I felt more resolute in my choice. I’d done something right for once.
"No one’s perfect, Dixon. You’ve got to stop holding yourself to some impossible standard.” Tray took another turn, steering the Jag deftly.
“I want to be perfect.” I stared at my knuckles, still bruised from yesterday's encounter with the kitchen wall.
"Perfect for who? Tessa?" Tray shook his head. "She's not looking for perfect, Dix. None of us are perfect. She's looking for real."
"You don't know that."
"I know she's been through hell. People who've survived what she has? They can smell bullshit a mile away. If you try to be someone you're not, she'll know."
The Jag climbed up a hill, pushing my body more firmly against the leather bucket seat. I stared straight ahead. The sun was beginning to lower, a riot of color blooming over Los Angeles. I loved this city. Loved my pack. Loved my job. Loved Tessa. Why the fuck would I try to be anyone I’m not?
“Thanks, Tray.”
“No need to thank me for speaking the truth.” He gave a little shrug, continuing to steer us homeward.
I thought of who I’d become. Who I wanted to be again.
The ferality had seeped in slowly, changing me down to my marrow. All I’d wanted was to be good again. I’d constantly wanted to be the guy who’d never hurt another soul. Instead, every day of the past year had left me feeling like more of a monster.
Yet, Tessa was here now. Hope had arrived.
My gaze flicked down to the single vibrant flower nestled against the deep green of the succulent. Hope.