Chapter 40
Forty
As I roll off her, I curl up close to her, resting my head on her chest. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat soothes me.
“The house… your house,” I start quietly, then hesitate. “The bed?”
“It’s mine. I got a new one—everything’s new. I didn’t want anything that reminded me of that day, because that’s exactly what all the old stuff did. I only brought photos, cutlery, dishes… simple things. No furniture.” Her fingers brush my hair back from my face, soft and reassuring.
But as she talks, that familiar shadow of fear creeps in. Deep down, a small voice warns me this feels too good to last. Still, I have to push it aside and trust her.
“What’s going on inside your head?” she whispers, and I can feel her heartbeat quicken beneath my ear.
I shrug, uncertain. “Us. Where do we go from here?”
“What more do you want? You’re moving in with me, right? So where else do you want to go?”
“Yeah. Mostly, I just need to believe.” It slips out, barely audible, something I never meant to say aloud—but Layne has this way of pulling it from me without effort.
“In me.” Not a question, but a quiet truth we both know. I don’t answer, because trusting her was never the problem—until that day. Now, I have to learn how all over again.
The following morning, I rush out the door after kissing Rebel on top of her head and Layne on the lips. I take my cup of coffee with me downstairs. Paxton followed through, and Dad’s text was waiting for me this morning.
Right on time, I walk through the doors of the chapel.
Paxton looks up at me blankly as I plop down in my seat. “Late night?” His brown eyes meet mine.
“Meh, busy morning.” I give him nothing, and he loses interest.
Tats is the last to enter, so he closes the doors behind him. As soon as he sits, Dad brings down his gavel. “Good morning, gentlemen. Glad to see you all here. Pax’s got some new info.” Kai raises his eyebrows at my brother.
Pax leans forward and rests his forearms on the table. “Kyler and I saw The Kid yesterday.”
Brooks jumps up, his chair scraping across the floor. His hand shoots up as if he expects Paxton to hand him something. My brother looks questioningly at my best friend.
“Sit down,” I say.
“Give me the fucking address, Pax,” Brooks growls through clenched teeth.
“Sit down,” I roar.
He looks at me. “I want that address. He’s a dead man, Ky.” He slams his fist on the table.
“Sit the fuck down, asshole. Yeah, he is. Yeah, you’re going to take care of it.
But you’re not going after him solo like some kind of lunatic.
First, we’re not a hundred percent sure The Kid isn’t setting us up, so we need to check if this address is legit.
Second, we’ve got zero info about that place.
You going there alone right now is the dumbest thing you could do, man.
” Sighing, I rub my face with both hands.
“I get it, Brooks, I really do. But we need to plan this.”
Without saying another word, he sits down, but if looks could kill, half the MC would be dead right now.
“Not much to add,” my father mutters. “I need scouts. Colt, can you be of any use with those computers of yours?” Dad’s gaze slides to him.
Nervously, Colt twists the ring on the right side of his lower lip. “I can check if there are any security cameras. If I can hack them, I’ll know pretty quickly if there’s security and, if so, what their schedule is.” As soon as he finishes speaking, he twists the ring again.
“Awesome. You know what you gotta do. I want eyes on the building.” Kai’s gaze sweeps across the members.
“Hawkeye, Magic?” Both nod. “All intel goes to Kyler, Paxton, and Brooks. I want you to come up with a plan.” He sighs, presses his lips together, and eyes Brooks.
“Just a little longer, kid.” Then he bangs the gavel, and we all stand up.
“I’m going with Colt. Let’s meet at my place at seven-thirty tonight.” Pax grabs his long hair and twists it into a bun, which he then secures with an elastic band.
“Fine.” I nod, then go to Brooks, who’s already heading for the door.
“Hey, man,” I call, grabbing his arm.
He yanks it away immediately. “Fuck off.”
“Stop, Brooks. Look at me, damn it.” I rush past him and plant my feet firmly on the ground, hands in my pockets. “How’s Brandon?”
“He’s at school. Why’d you care?” He tilts his head, and I swear I don’t recognize my best friend right now. But I also have no idea what to do to help him.
“Nothing, but I’ve got no idea what to do or say, man,” I confess honestly. “I really want to help you, but I don’t know how.” I take a step toward him. “Did you have her cremated?”
That’s when I see some emotion, apart from the rage raging inside him. “Yeah,” he says softly. “She’s in a fucking bag, in an urn, in our fucking bedroom, Ky. My wife… She…” And then he breaks down. He sinks to his knees, falls onto the sand, and puts his hands on the ground in front of him.
I rush forward and crouch down in front of him. “Hey, hey.” I pull his arm and somehow he leans forward, smashing his head against my shirt, and then an ugly sob bursts from his throat. The weight of him sends me falling backward onto my ass, dragging Brooks with me.
“They killed my wife, man. My fucking wife and I…” My shirt gets wet and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I’ve got no idea what to do. All I feel is this constant rage inside me, this urge to destroy something.
” He breathes in unevenly. “I’ve got no idea what to say to Brandon or what to do. I just don’t know.”
I wrap my arms around my best friend and whisper, “You’re feeling a lot more than anger, Brooks.
” He shakes his head. “It’s true. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen the sadness, but it is the first time I’ve seen the helplessness.
That’s two things beyond anger.” I take a deep breath and blurt out my thoughts.
“Anger is how you try to deal with everything.
I can still remember a thirteen-year-old boy who kicked the storage shed to pieces ‘cause…”
“Don’t,” he croaks and pushes himself away from me. He sits down on the floor. “Don’t compare this to my parents.”
“I’m not,” I interrupt him. “I’m just saying that anger is your coping mechanism.”
With the back of his hand, he wipes beneath his eyes. “What should I say to him, Kyler?”
Shaking my head, I stare into the blue eyes of my best friend. “Nothing, man. You don’t have to say anything. You just have to be there. Go home, eat dinner, give him a hug, watch a movie together, tuck him in at night. Just be his dad.” With a shrug, I pull up the corner of my mouth.
“Norah helps,” he whispers.
“Yeah? That’s great.” I pull the pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and offer him one.
He puts it between his lips. “She’s taking care of the house, cooking, cleaning. That kind of shit. It makes it feel more like home, more alive.”
“Perfect,” I mumble. “That’s what Brandon needs, Brooks. Someone who brings some light into this dark time. You’ll be fine in the end, but it’ll take time.”
He lights the cigarette and stands up. “I’m going to get a drink. Thanks, man.” With that, he walks back to the club.
When I turn around, I notice his little brother, Asher, standing at the corner of the building with a pained look in his eyes.