Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
DREW
Ayda made it clear she wanted to get back to Helen quickly.
There was something about her since she’d been to the safe house.
A quiet panic, maybe? Or perhaps she was just a woman wanting to rescue her fellow woman.
Whatever it was, I respected her enough to let her lead the way on this one.
There was something about Helen that made me…
nervous. Not enough to stick a bullet in her head, but she was connected to Jon Taylor, and I wasn’t so naive as to imagine she hadn’t picked up a few of his tricks along the way.
Tate had caught Ayda’s attention as we were walking through the bar.
The shot glass in his hand as he leaned over the bar had stopped her in her tracks, leaving me to walk outside while she gave the kid a lecture he definitely deserved.
His attitude hadn’t gone unnoticed around here lately, but after what he’d been through that night at Rusty’s, none of us were hypocritical enough to hand him his ass on a platter.
We left that to Ayda. After all, Tate was only sixteen.
Too young to have seen what he’d seen. Too old for us to convince him that it had never happened at all.
The door to The Hut hit the frame just as I heard Ayda’s raised voice carry itself throughout the bar. A small smile tugged at my lips as I went to stand on the top step of the porch and look out over the yard. My home.
Our repo truck was occupied by Slater. I had no idea what he was doing in the front seat, but he was leaned to one side, looking down toward the radio, probably seeking a tiny bit of solace around here. There weren’t many places you could go to escape.
When I looked over at the pawnshop, I saw the door propped open and assumed one of the guys was in there.
Maybe Jedd. Probably Owen—the slimeball.
Since Harry had gone, he’d been lingering around more, taking more interest in the business side of things and the books.
A figure to my right caught my attention, and I glanced that way, slipping my hands into the depths of my jean pockets and raising my chin only to see Rubin cycling towards me with a goofy smile on his face. I found myself smiling right back
The kid had earned our respect around here.
I liked him. He was a happier, more enthusiastic, natural version of Tate.
Don’t get me wrong; I loved Tate like a brother.
He was my brother. Soon, that would be official by law.
But Tate was all grunts, muscle, frustration, and he was becoming more and more controlled by his dick rather than his brain.
Rubin was an innocent version of that. He seemed to find happiness in the simple pleasures.
Dropping his bike to the side, he hopped off it and marched closer to me with a swagger he hadn’t carried before he’d made that all-important shot that night.
“Hey, Drew,” he said, slightly out of breath.
“Kid.” I nodded.
“You out here surveying all that you own?” he asked, standing next to me and glancing down at the stained president badge on my cut. It was something he always did. Like he couldn’t quite believe he’d got an in to The Hounds of Babylon.
“Something like that.” I smirked.
Rubin nodded too, copying my stance and glancing up at me from the corners of his eyes.
It shouldn’t have, but it did my ego good to have someone like him look up to someone as screwed up as me.
It meant not everyone could see the darkness that lurked within.
Or if they could, they saw more about me that they liked than they hated.
That had come to mean a hell of a lot to me since meeting Ayda and my whole life changing.
“I like it here,” the kid said. “Feels like… home.”
“You’re welcome any time.”
“I know.” His smile broke into a grin, his happiness at my approval clear to see. “Tate around?”
I turned and gestured to the place where the lecture was happening. “In there, suffering the wrath of Ayda when she’s pissed.”
“Ouch.” Rubin hissed.
“You should go and save him.”
“Right.” He laughed, his eyes drifting somewhere behind me, and then narrowing as his face fell a little. “What’s up with Deeks?”
“Huh?”
“Deeks?” He pointed over my shoulder to where the outside benches sat, pressed up against the walls of The Hut.
I turned to see Deeks sitting there, clutching a picture as he held it between his parted legs.
His chin was to his chest, and all the light and positivity he usually carried around with him was gone.
“I don’t know,” I muttered to myself. Not looking back at Rubin, I patted him on the shoulder, effectively dismissing him and saying my goodbyes without having to say shit. My feet moved on their own, the concern for my brother—the club’s next best thing to Harry—taking over.
He didn’t so much as flinch or look up as I walked closer, even though I knew he could hear the scuffing of my heavy boots over the loose gravel.
The closer I got, the more I could see the despair on his face.
“Deeks?” I said his name carefully, but he didn’t look up. He just kept staring at the picture he was holding at the edges in both hands, his eyes lost in a memory I couldn’t see. “Deeks…”
He looked up at once like he’d been snapped out of a trance, his whole body shifting and forcing him to sit upright, let go of the picture with one hand in an attempt to straighten down his denim cut.
“Sorry, Tucker. Didn’t see you there.” Deeks ran the back of his hand under his nose quickly, sniffing back whatever emotion was clogging his throat.
I frowned instantly.
Shit.
“Have you been… crying?” I asked, careful not to disrespect him or overstep the mark.
I may have been the president of the club, but when it came to the history of it all, Deeks was the leader who had never wanted to lead.
He wanted to build the empire from bricks and blood.
He wanted to protect it by any means necessary.
But he had no desire to be in control. He liked being led and offering his two cents whenever the opportunity arose.
Just like Harry, I thought as I watched Deeks fight to regain composure.
“No,” he croaked, clearing his throat soon after and smacking a balled-up fist to his chest.
I sighed heavily. The weight of grief was fucking heavy. It made us weak…. broken boys instead of sadistic beasts.
I moved, dropping down onto the bench next to him and leaning forward so he didn’t have to look at my face, and I didn’t have to look at his and make him uncomfortable.
I stared out at the warehouse and buildings we owned, at the empire we’d built, at the yard that was our safe ground, and up at the sky where Pete and Harry were watching over us.
Dropping my hands in between my parted legs, I twisted my fingers together and let the silence linger a while before I spoke.
“Jesus, I must be bad,” Deeks muttered roughly, trying to let a hint of laughter in but it came out as a rough squeak of awkwardness.
“You can’t help being ugly, brother.”
“It’s the emotion. The color doesn’t suit me.”
“Nope.” I sighed, tapping a foot to an incredibly slow beat. “Doesn’t suit any of us but we still insist on letting that shit control us these days.”
“Fucking Harry,” Deeks whispered.
“Fucking Harry.” I nodded, watching as a crow flew overhead right on cue. “Always thought he was a funny bastard.”
“Sometimes he was.”
“Sometimes,” I whispered. “Yeah.”
The silence lingered again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was a beautiful thing to be able to sit with your fellow man and have no need for meaningless words.
It was also pretty fucking beautiful to be able to speak from the heart, too.
I’d not said enough to the men I’d already lost. I’d made a vow to myself never to let things go unsaid again…
if I could help it. Everyone knew I was shit at sticking to vows like that.
“Found this stupid picture earlier,” Deeks said, interrupting my thoughts and holding it out for me.
He pushed it over my lap, letting me take it while barely moving my hands.
When I looked down, I saw the three of us together in one shot.
Deeks, Harry, and me. I was in the middle; my face turned to the side as I protested about something.
My face was scrunched up, my eyes tight, but my smile clear.
Harry had an arm wrapped around one of my shoulders, Deeks claiming the other.
Deeks had feigned a punch to my gut, and Harry just looked smug as shit as he let a smoke hang out from his smiling lips, his middle finger aimed straight at the camera.
You could practically smell the smoke, whiskey, and testosterone. I didn’t remember the picture even being taken, but the feel of Harry’s presence was something I could never forget.
“It doesn’t even mean anything,” Deeks whispered roughly. “It’s not a birthday. It’s not some woman grinding in his lap. It’s just a day like any other day when he was around. That stupid bald head with that ridiculous tattoo up the back of the neck. That smug smile.”
“His eyes,” I found myself saying as I stared into them. “Those fuckers could break even me.”
“Especially you,” Deeks added, forcing me to turn and look at him. Man, I hated seeing someone so usually strong look so fractured.
I reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tight as I looked into his eyes. “I love you, brother.”
Deeks swallowed, his smile flat but proud as he raised his hand to my shoulder and squeezed it with affection, too. “You’re a good man, Tucker. Probably has something to do with that beautiful woman of yours.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I laughed softly, dropping my hand and turning back to face forward again. “We all know you love my woman, Deeks.”
“Oh,” he said, laughing, too. “Damn right, I do. That girl is a firecracker. One this club needed. She’s like a daughter to me now. You know what that means, don’t you?”