Chapter Seven
Addison peered up at the clubhouse as they drove up the long driveway.
Cleo had offered to pick her up, but it was silly for her to drive all the way out to Birch just to drive back to Killcreek.
She was just happy Cleo suggested they go over together.
Addison had her reservations about meeting the club considering her initial introduction to Wraith and Cross.
But Cleo assured her the club was open to it.
In fact, it was the president’s suggestion.
She was hoping the invitation showed they didn’t share the same feelings as Cross and Wraith.
“I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”
“Me too.” Addison’s voice hitched. It was a telltale sign she was lying, but Cleo didn’t seem to pick up on it.
As Addison pulled up in front of the house, her heart started racing, and a nervous energy bubbled in her stomach. She was once again wondering if it was from anxiety or coming from Knox as excitement for being home. That thought usually gave her solace. Not today.
“So, the MC? I don’t know much about biker clubs, but um” —Addison shut down the engine and glanced over at Cleo— “They’re like a family, right?”
“Oh no, not like family.” Cleo’s eyes softened. “They are family. And for some, it’s the only real one they have. That’s how it was for me and Knox. Wraith too.”
Addison had what some might characterize as a cookie cutter life with her family.
If there was a textbook view on a great, happy childhood, she and her sister would fit into that box.
It wasn’t to say they were perfect. Her family was far from it, and they’d had their struggles, but she always knew she could count on them.
Cleo got out of the car first, and Addison hesitated. Her muscles tightened as if alerting her to the dark cloud looming. There was no getting out of it now.
She rounded the bumper, glancing up at the house. She had little time for a proper inspection. Cleo grabbed her hand, leading her up the stairs to the front porch and inside the door.
Addison wasn’t sure what she was expecting.
But this wasn’t it. It was an actual house that had been renovated.
What would’ve been the living room had a full bar set up on one end.
There were a few small tables and couches.
Beyond that was what looked like a traditional dining room table that had seen much better days.
It was a lot to take in, but nothing put her on alert more than the men at the table and in the surrounding area.
As if it wasn’t intimidating enough meeting anyone’s family, she was met with several large, brutish, tattooed men and not a smile in the room. The vibe and mood was very reminiscent of her meeting with Wraith and Cross. So much for wishful thinking. I’m definitely in hostile territory.
“There she is.”
Addison darted her gaze around the men in search of the voice. She locked eyes on the redhead seated at the table. He leaned back in his chair, smiling. I stand corrected. Maybe there was at least one welcoming biker.
“The only woman to ever steal Knox’s heart.” He winked. “Literally.”
Oh, this is not going to go well.
“Gent!” Cleo snapped and pointed at him. “You said you’d be nice.”
Oh God! Did she have to bribe them? Addison was under the impression this meeting was their idea. She glanced over at Cleo, whose smile seemed too wide and forced.
“Darlin’, I’m being honest. Women loved your brother. And he equally enjoyed them but was never willing to settle down and commit.” Gent shifted his eyes to Addison. “Not willing to give anyone his heart. Until you, darlin’.”
Cleo grabbed her hand, scowling at Gent. The tension in the room was so high she felt herself swaying toward Cleo for comfort. It was obvious she was her only ally in the room. Addison tried to relax her features, but her anxiousness was getting the best of her.
“So you know Wraith, and that’s Cypher next to him.” Cleo pointed to the two men standing beside the table.
Addison mustered up what she hoped was a pleasant smile. It was anyone’s guess how it came across. Wraith glared back at her while the other man wasn’t quite as angry looking, though he didn’t seem to acknowledge her with anything more than his eyes.
Cleo moved her hand a few inches, aimed at the table.
“That’s Ghost.” The man in the ballcap dipped his chin.
“And that’s Oak.” He smiled, though it came across mockingly.
Cleo pointed to the opposite side of the room.
“Cue.” He lifted his chin, and his gaze softened slightly.
She wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but it was appreciated.
“Gent’s already done his own introduction. And you met Cross.” Yes, I did.
Addison smiled, but was only met with a harsh glare before he looked away and grabbed his drink, taking a long sip.
“And Ace. He’s the president of the club.” Cleo gestured to the man seated at the head of the table.
He was older than the rest, maybe in his mid to late forties. The combination of his dark and silver hair was tied back at his nape. There was no welcome or warmth coming from him. He stared at her as if she was the enemy. In fact, that seemed to be the consensus among all the bikers.
“It’s nice to meet you all.” Miraculously, her voice didn’t shake, and for that she was truly thankful. Considering the butterflies in her belly, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, and the tingling energy racing through her body, this was a win. Now if she could just maintain it.
“Ah, darlin’. The pleasure is all ours.” Gent pulled out the empty chair at the end of the table next to him. “Have a seat.”
It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she was in their house. Cleo let go of her arm, pulled a chair next to Addison’s, and they sat down.
“Cleo said you’ve been writing for a while.” Ace grabbed his glass of amber liquor and sipped it, staring at her over the rim.
She was about to answer, but Cleo chimed in.
“Over a year now.”
Ace’s eyes shifted to Cleo and hardened.
“I was asking her.”
Cleo shrunk slightly in her chair, peeking over at Addison.
Her empathy was evident and appreciated but not necessary.
Knowing she was on enemy territory, Addison would approach this accordingly.
She would be as pleasant as possible, and above all, respectful.
But she had no hope of winning them over.
They’d already made up their minds about her. Let’s just get through this cordially.
“Yes, like Cleo said we’ve been corresponding for over a year. But she’s a much better pen pal than I am. She’s really good at writing letters.”
“Thank you,” Cleo muttered, which made her smile.
“Why?”
Addison raised her brow. “Why?”
“Why write to her? You started it, right? Has to be a reason,” Ace countered.
“Well, I wanted to thank her.”
“For what?” His gaze dropped to her breast. “Not her heart beating in your chest.”
Addison licked her lips. “No, but it is her brother’s. She was open to hearing from me, and I appreciate that.”
“Could’ve said that in a letter, but here you are. Why?”
“I wanted to meet her.”
“Why?”
Jesus, what are you a toddler? Why? Why? Why? Addison shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her composure. It was apparent they had zero interest in getting to know her. Did any of her answers really matter? No. Inadvertently, it put her on the defense.
“I guess I could ask you the same thing, right? Cleo said you all wanted to meet me. Why?”
She kept her eyes on Ace but felt the temperature in the room plummet to icy. He smirked, and his gaze narrowed.
Oh hell. It wasn’t meant as a challenge, but she was getting the idea he thought it was. Ace leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands. A chill ran down her spine.
“’Cause we don’t know you. And when a stranger shows up, we wanna know who the fuck you are and why you’re here.”
“I think she…” Cleo clamped her lips tight when Ace held up his hand, silencing her. The man obviously wielded a lot of power over the club.
“Like I said, I came here to meet Cleo.” Addison swallowed the knot in her throat. “As for who I am? I’m a nobody, really. There’s nothing special about me.”
Making herself small and insignificant was never something she’d done.
But she was sensing her presence was drudging up old wounds directly connected to Knox.
How could she have not considered how they would all feel with her showing up?
As Cleo said, they were family. Knox’s. Cleo had been open to her, but they’d never agreed to it.
Cross jerked his head. “You got our brother’s fucking heart beating in your chest, and that’s nothing special to you?”
What? Oh my God, no! That wasn’t at all what she meant. She inched closer to the table, shaking her head and keeping her eyes locked on Cross.
“No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.” She had so much more to say, but Cross didn’t allow it.
He pointed across the table, a fire in his gaze as if she was his mortal enemy with venom lacing his tone. “The only reason you’re fucking here is because he’s dead. That ain’t special enough for you?”
Addison flinched. It was as if he’d struck her. A powerful gut-punch stealing her breath and leaving her speechless. It was the truth delivered with venomous hatred. She shook her head, searching for anything that could somehow make this right. But she wasn’t given any time.
Cross pushed up from the table, sending his chair flying back a few feet, and he stormed through the back door. She had no idea where it led to. The only saving grace was it put space between them. Exactly what she wanted.
The only reason you’re fucking here is because he’s dead.
Addison dropped her gaze to the table fighting against her tears.
I know.
****
Cross paced around the back room, doing laps around the fighting cage in the middle of the room. His anger was at an all-time high with no outlet.
“Well played, brother.”
Cross glanced through the fencing to the opposite side of the room. Cue and Ghost were positioned by one of the tables, watching him. He rounded the cage, glaring. The last thing he wanted was company or a lecture.
“What?”
Ghost laughed, looking over at Cue before addressing Cross. “What? Is that what you asked? Fuck, Cross. I was waiting for you to toss the table and go after her.”
He clenched his jaw. He was a lot of things, not many of them good but he’d never, despite all his rage, lay hands on a woman.
“Fuck you, Ghost.”
He shrugged and snickered. “Calling it like I see it, VP. It was quite the fucking outburst. But as long as you feel better.”
Cross didn’t feel better. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he’d been an asshole. The way he’d handled that meeting, coming for her, it was shitty. I fucking know that. Though, he wasn’t willing to outwardly admit it.
“She’s got no place in our clubhouse.”
Ghost jerked his chin. “Well, you made that known, and for an update, she’s not here anymore. She hauled ass the second you left the room.”
“But,” Cue added. “Not before she thanked us for taking the time to meet her.”
Cross jerked his gaze to his brothers and caught Ghost smirking.
“Yeah, she did. And when Cleo got upset ’cause you were such a dick, Addison tried to comfort her.
Imagine that shit, right? You walk into the fucking lion’s den, knowing you’re the most hated person in the room, even though you’ve done nothing wrong to the club.
And then you try to play off your own existence as nothing special, only to have your ass handed to you.
” Ghost snorted. “And then you thank us for our time?”
Cross hardened his stare. His anger was elevating but not toward his brothers. It was festering within himself.
“You think you were original back there, brother? She’s only here cause he’s dead?
Think that’s the first time she’s ever thought that?
Most people wouldn’t say it out loud, but not a doubt in my mind she’s said it to herself hundreds of times.
You’re so good at reading people, but you can’t see the guilt she’s carrying?
It’s practically fucking oozing out of her pores. ”
Ghost shook his head and walked out of the room with one parting line. “It was a cheap shot, brother.”
When the door slammed shut, every muscle in his body tightened, and he fisted his hands.
It was a fucking cheap shot. Cue stayed silent, making no move to leave.
Cross had grown tighter with him since Knox’s death.
Cue wasn’t a man of many words, but when he spoke people listened. He was honest and fair.
Cross sensed he’d regret it, but he asked anyway.
“Fucking say it, Cue.”
“You knew exactly what she meant. We all did. But you saw the opening and took it. You want her to feel bad, Cross? You want her to feel guilty ’cause he’s dead and she gets to live?
You want her to be responsible for your grief?
For the club’s and Cleo’s ’cause we lost him?
If that was your intention, well done, brother. ”
Cross stilled, repeating in his mind everything Cue had said. He’d had no intention of saying anything to her at the meeting. His initial plan was not to show up. He didn’t need to know Addison. He didn’t want to because she had Knox’s heart.
“I get it, Cross.” Cue scoffed. “Trust me, nobody understands this better than Ghost and I do. Grief is probably the worst fucking emotion ’cause you can’t escape it.
It’s always gonna be there. Good days and bad days, but thirty years from now, you’ll still miss him, and that grief isn’t gonna go away. It’ll always stay with you.”
Cross cupped his jaw.
“Revenge helps, I think. I know it did for me. But it didn’t bring Knox back. Nothing will. And you’re still stuck with that grief and looking for someone else to blame. Addison’s an easy target.” Cue paused. “And an undeserving one.”
Cross grasped his hips and bowed his head, feeling the heavy weight of his own guilt.
“She didn’t say anything,” Cross said.
“What?”
He shook his head and turned to Cue. “Why the fuck didn’t she come back at me?”
“’Cause she thinks you’re right. She wouldn’t be here if Knox was still alive. And since he’s not, that somehow falls on her.”
“I didn’t fucking blame her for his death.”
“You didn’t have to. She’s already carrying around enough guilt to cloud her mind.”
And I just added to it.