by Bourne, Lena
But he shows no signs of wanting to go anywhere. He rolls onto his back beside me and pulls me to lay by his side where I belong, with his arm around me and my head resting against his chest.
I can hear his heartbeat and it matches my own. Like always. Because there’s no other way it could be.
“I really should head out now,” he says hoarsely what feels like hours later.
It hasn’t been hours. It hasn’t even been half an hour. I wish we had more time. Every fiber of my being, every cell in my body wishes for more time right now.
A part of my mind is urging me to start begging him not to go. But I’m not that needy woman now. I know he’ll come back to me. I know he’ll always come back to me. If he can, that fearful voice in my mind is saying, but I push it aside and ignore it. I’m sure it will get a lot louder after he’s gone, but I’ll face it then. For now, I’m still being held by him, still feel his strong heartbeat against my cheek, and still feel his powerful body against my own. And now is all we ever have.
“OK,” I murmur, but make no move to let him get out of bed, not until he starts to.
I have to keep reminding myself that this was my plan. I chose this separation I must face now. If we did it his way, we’d probably be riding along some empty road right now, warmed by the setting sun with nothing but pleasant freedom and adventure before us. I think we’re both acutely aware of that as I watch him get dressed, wrapped in a sheet by the living room door.
Once he’s done, he just stands there, gazing at me, looking kind of lost like he doesn’t know how to say goodbye. I let my sheet drop and approach slowly, enjoying the warm way his eyes caress my nakedness.
I wrap my hands around his face and look as deep into his eyes as I can. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
He stays silent, but his eyes look grateful right before he kisses me. The kiss is filled with all the magical love we share that burns in our hearts.
Then it’s over and the door is closing behind him, and I know a split second of agonizing fear, much worse than any I’ve ever felt, so bad I almost run after him and call the whole thing off.
But I compose myself. We can do this. We can do anything. Together.
* * *
Ink
For some reason, I feel unsettled and uneasy leaving her. It’s not sadness or fear of missing her, just a faint but pervasive kind of sense that shit will go wrong while I’m away.
But there’s no reason for it to. She’s protected by her father and whatever deal he’s made with the Sinners, I’m sure of it, so it’s probably just anxiety I’m feeling.
I thought she’d put up more of a fight over me leaving town again without her, but she kept her cool. She was practically back to her pre-break up self, when she was so far on the opposite side to clingy, I sometimes accused her of not caring much about us one way or another. After that hotel room scene, where I had no choice but to take her along on my nighttime ride, I figured that might be the new normal for us.
Now a part of me is wondering if maybe she prefers me leaving. Like maybe all the truth I laid on her made her reconsider the whole thing and decide she’s better off on her own.
But that’s fucking nonsense and I know it.
She made me promise to call her every couple of hours to check in. She insisted on it after I said I’d call in the evenings, and wouldn’t let it go until I promised to call much more often than that. And now I’m the one that wants to call her right away, even though we’ve been apart for less than twenty minutes.
There’s no time for that right now though. I’m almost at my uncle’s clubhouse, and I doubt anyone there will be happy to hear I’ve reawakened my engagement to Bullard’s daughter and that this time around, I plan to take it all the way to retirement, with no further hiccups.
Whatever deal they made with her old man is off, and if that brings war, so be it.
The Devils will back me up because that’s what family does. I’m not actually counting on the support of my uncle in this, but it’d be a nice surprise if he gave it anyway. My brother will back me, I don’t doubt that, but I’m not gonna put him in a sticky situation with my uncle. Bottom line, they should know the shit is about to hit the fan and that’s as far as I’ve thought this part of my plan out.
14
Ink
“I figured you’d come back around sooner than this,” my brother says as I join him by the bar in the clubhouse.
He’s eying me like he doesn’t much appreciate the fact that I didn’t make a repeat visit before leaving town again, which I assume has more to do with my uncle being displeased about it, than his own need to see me. I’m not proud of myself for thinking of Buzz as being more on my uncle’s side than mine, but neither can I shake the feeling that he is.
“What can I say? I had more important things to do,” I say as I scan the place.
The clubhouse seems pretty full for a Wednesday night, but what do I know? I haven’t been around and things might have changed. Bruiser and Pete are the only two who raise their drinks at me to say hello, the rest are just eyeing me kind of warily. It could be the Devil’s Nightmare MC cut I’m wearing, or it could be that none of them expected to see me here tonight. Most likely it’s both, plus the fact that they always looked down on me for being the son of a club whore. My brother used to be in the same boat as me regarding that, but he seems to have shaken the stigma since I’ve been gone. I wonder what he had to do to achieve that.
I’m also sure my uncle let most of my brothers-to-be think my reason for leaving had more to do with me not wanting to join them than what it was actually about. A couple of them know the real reason, because I told them personally, but I guess the rest of them have their doubts. The fact that I’m wearing Devil’s Nightmare MC colors isn’t going unnoticed, and it doesn’t seem to be well received, on the whole.
One of the older guys, Brick, is eyeing me particularly aggressively. He’s beyond drunk, judging by his unfocused eyes and the fact that he’s swaying as he starts walking towards us. I brace myself for an unpleasant conversation. He’s not quite my dad’s generation, but he’s certainly nowhere near my own, and we have always had this “respect your elders” code around here. I’ll try to live by it when he comes over and tells me exactly what’s causing that snarling half-smile on his face, which doesn’t reach his unfocused, but nevertheless dead eyes.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” he slurs at me while he’s still a couple of feet away. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you back here anytime soon, boy.”
I don’t detest a lot of things, but I have a hearty dislike for being called “boy”.
“Well, surprises are generally a good thing,” I reply, keeping my voice as calm and level as I can. “They get your adrenaline going.”
“Is that why you’re here? To get my adrenaline going?” Brick says and laughs harshly. “I’ll tell you what—”
“We’re not gonna do this now, Brick,” my brother says, interrupting him. “Go back to your game of pool.”
Brick doesn’t like being interrupted like this, much less by my brother it seems, but he doesn’t argue and doesn’t call him “boy”, but he doesn’t leave either. He just stands there in silence, glaring at me.
My brother stubs out his cigarette and turns to me. “Come on, Butch wants to talk to you and he’s here tonight.”
This plan of mine involved talking to my uncle, there was no other way, or else I’d be riding down it right now, but that doesn’t make me glad as I follow my brother to the back. I guess my uncle being here tonight so I could speak to him could be considered lucky, could be thought of as my plan coming together nicely right off the bat, but it’s still not a reunion I’m looking forward to.
“Come in,” my uncle croaks after my brother knocks on the door of his office in the back. We do just that.
The hateful force of my uncle’s gaze as he sees me could take someone down, but I’m used to getting stared at like t
hat by him.
“I heard you were back, Ink,” he says before I can greet him properly, which is something I’m stalling on, because I don’t really like him too much. Him and my father had a complicated relationship, which often went beyond simple brotherly rivalry and all the way to hate on my uncle’s side, at least. That hate extended to my brother and me too. But clearly my brother’s made himself useful enough to the MC to offset some of the hate he was born into. I guess he’s pissed off at me now, because me showing up probably undid a lot of his hard work in that area.
“Why are you back?” my uncle asks more pointedly.
I guess there’s no easy way to say this and the sooner I get it over with, the sooner I get to leave.
“I’m not actually back, I’m just visiting,” I say in a mocking tone, because I can’t fucking help myself with arrogant bastards like my uncle. He used to scare the shit out of me when I was a kid, but those days are so far behind us, I don’t know why I’m even remembering them right now.
He stood up after I spoke, the dark glare in his eyes growing even darker, but I’m not here to butt heads with him.
“I came back for my fiancé,” I say. “You know, Bullard’s daughter. And this time, I’ll handle whatever heat the two of us being together brings.”
“Like you handled it last time,” he snaps. “By running away?”
He’s not far off the mark at all.
“I had no choice but to leave, as you know very well. You more or less made me do it, so let’s cut the bullshit that it was my choice to go,” I say and actually feel his glare fill with a new heaping helping of hate. “But it was a mistake, it solved nothing, and you ended up losing ten guys in addition to my father. A year later, the only difference was that me and Julie weren’t together anymore. That’s no longer the case.”
He slams his fist into the desk, and I’m certain he imagined it being my face. “Do you know how long it took me to make it right with Bullard again? Do you know how many of my guys depend on him for their livelihood, depend on him to feed their families? Of course you don’t. No, you come strutting back here like the peacock you always were, whining that you can’t get over a piece of ass. Do you know how pathetic that sounds? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, boy, so stop being so fucking dramatic. Bullard will destroy us when he hears of this, him and the Sinners, who are just looking for an excuse to come after us. I know you don’t want that. You’re grown, be a man.”
Strutting like a peacock? Leave it to the Cooper men to know how to turn a phrase.
“I’ll handle Bullard this time, there’s no need for you to get involved,” I say.
He flicks his fingers towards my cut, or more precisely at the Enforcer tag on it. “And I suppose your new brothers will help you with that?”
He glances at my brother who’s been standing back by the door and keeping very quiet throughout this exchange, and there’s meaning in the look, but I have no idea what it is. His accusations raised a very bitter taste in my mouth, and it’s not just because I left my family and joined another. It’s also because I was ready to run out on the family I did join, even after they took me in, saved my life, and made me an Enforcer.
“I think they will, yeah,” I say, but all of a sudden I’m not so sure at all. I’ve convinced myself that being missing for a week can’t possibly be that big an offense in Cross’ eyes, but now that conviction feels far from solid. I disobeyed the man’s direct order and I wanted to disappear for good on top of it. Shame is what I feel now and I hope to God my uncle can’t see that in my face.
“Well, if Cross calls you his enforcer, I suppose they actually might,” my uncle spits. “But how’s that gonna help any of us?”
“Bullard will understand it’s in his best interest not to mess with you when this is all done,” I say. I’m not sure how I’m gonna achieve that, but I’ll find a way.
“When this is all done and you’re gone again?” my brother asks, speaking for the first time since we entered this room. He sounds just as angry as Butch, which rattles me more than my uncle’s hateful glares and jibes ever could.
“Why didn’t you just take her and stay away?” my uncle adds. The two of them working in tandem like this is not something I expected to find and it feels rotten. My brother clearly went over to my uncle’s side all the way.
“She wanted to say goodbye first,” I say. “And she wanted to make sure her father doesn’t come after you again once we do leave.”
As I say it, I’m overwhelmed by the naïve idiocy of that idea all over again. Julie’s intentions were good and pure, but it’s not something that’s ever gonna come true.
“So you’re only here to tell us you don’t need us anymore? That after all we’ve done for you, we’re no longer good enough to clean up your shit?” my uncle barks, his face turning purple. “Damn, but you really are a peacock, boy.”
I ball my hands into tight fists. Is he suggesting I should be grateful to him that he ran me out of town? I let a few moments of silence pass and somehow manage to let go of the insult.
“Yeah, that’s kinda it,” I say. “I wanted you to be aware that shit is most likely going down in your backyard soon, but that—”
“Get the fuck out of here, Ink,” Butch interrupts, spittle spraying from his violet hued face. “Just get the fuck out of my sight!”
I shrug, turn and leave, even though I don’t think he planned for me to actually go. I think he wanted something along the lines of an apology from me for everything Bullard and the Sinners did to the MC, before he tossed me out again. But he’s never getting one of those, and I’ll never forgive him for doing it the first time.
My brother doesn’t catch up to me until I’m out of the clubhouse and almost at my bike.
“Had a nice chat with our dear old uncle about me, did you?” I ask, because right now it stings real bad that my own brother is so cozy with the man who more or less threw me out of the family.
“You gotta be careful, Ink,” he says in a near whisper. “Butch is even harder and meaner than he used to be now that dad’s no longer around. I do what I can, so Ma and the guys who always sided with Dad don’t get the worst of it, but…”
“That’s why you’re so cozy with Butch? So you can check his worst impulses and continue doing Dad’s work?” I snap. “Come on, Justin, give me a break.”
But the look on his face reminds me a lot of my dad right now. Maybe he is giving it to me straight.
“Whatever you plan on doing, do it fast,” he says. “Butch isn’t gonna sit by calmly if shit hits the fan again. He’s been dying for a chance to beat the Sinners and Bullard back into their place, as he puts it.”
“You think Julie isn’t safe here after what I just told him?” I ask, since I think that’s what he’s talking about.
“She’s still as safe as she was while you were gone, I suppose,” he says. “And I’ll make sure she remains that way for as long as I can while you go get the Devils. But don’t dilly dally about coming back, alright?”
I’m still seeing my brother in a whole new light, one I’ve never seen him shining before. And he reminds me of Dad more than he ever has before. I resented him for staying behind when I had to leave. He could’ve come with me, nothing was stopping him. I’m sure Butch would be happy to let him go, and we could’ve joined the Devils or some other MC together. Or we could’ve just stayed on our own. At the very least, he could’ve been more pissed off that I had to leave. But I suppose he had to stay too. For mom. Maybe for Julie too. And for all the guys who were loyal to our dad, I suppose. And the only way to achieve all that was to get on our uncle’s good side.
“Thanks, Justin, for everything,” I say and extend my hand. “I appreciate it. It was great seeing you again.”
He shakes my hand then pulls me into a hug, slapping my back a couple of times with his free hand. “It’s nice to see you again too, little brother. I was afraid you’d do something too dramatic like get yourself killed after y
ou left. When you didn’t get in touch for so long, I was afraid that’s what happened. I’m glad you kept a hold on yourself.”
The words hit home like a couple more bullets to the chest.
“It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that,” I say as he releases me.
“Yeah?” he looks concerned, exactly the way dad would’ve been if he had lived.
“We’ll talk when I get back,” I say and grab hold of the handlebars of my bike.
Between saying a proper goodbye to Julie and visiting with my uncle, it’s almost ten PM. But I’ll still make it to Sanctuary with time to spare.
“Take care, Ink,” he says and steps aside so I can mount my bike.
I nod before I drive off, knowing I should call Julie before I leave town, knowing she’d want me to, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to leave her here, if I hear her voice. I’ll text her from the road. She’ll be satisfied with that, and I’ll be better able to keep my mind focused on what I have to do now.
* * *
Julie
I’m heading up north now. Call you in the morning. Sweet dreams.
I spent a good ten minutes just reading and rereading that text until the words didn’t really register anymore. There wasn’t much to register, to be honest. Reading it the moment I got it felt like getting drenched in cold rain, and the feeling only got worse when I called him back to say a proper good night, and he didn’t pick up.
He’s not bad with words, not at all, and he’s not a lousy texter either. The only other time I got a text this cold from him was right before we met so he could tell me he’s leaving me. I’m remembering that text very clearly right now. Much more clearly than I want to, because the bad feelings are flooding me, all at once and all of them—betrayal, hurt, unfairness, pain, disappointment, anger, regret—all the ones that are so damn hard to resolve without the person causing them. I know, because it took me months just to accept those bad feelings, and a year to learn to live with them.
