But for where my headspace was, logic wasn’t exactly the overwhelming factor.
I considered replying to her all the way up until the point that I had gotten under the covers of my bed. The desire to send an impulsive text message was strong, and more than once, I had something written out.
But call it luck, maturity, or just a blind decision, I decided not to say anything. I wanted to clear my head before I wrote back.
Maybe, just maybe, it would make a difference down the line.
The days passed and I never got the clarity I wanted before I reached out to Renee. Every time I thought of her, I thought of how I yearned to have her back. Sleepless nights took hold. The struggle to focus on anything was very real.
I passed the time by working out, reading, and doing things that I just generally had not done as much before. Though I naturally kept a good frame from my youthful days and the luck of good genetics, I threw myself at my workouts with a force unlike anything I’d done in some time. Granted, not having literally anything else to do made it easier to do these workouts, but I figured it was better than drinking or doing other nonsense.
Still, there was only so much that I could do to keep my mind sane before the inevitable feelings of regret, hurt, frustration, and confusion made their way back in. I was weaning myself off of it bit by bit, but when the following Thursday had rolled around, I was still feeling the pain of the… breakup or whatever the heck you could call it.
And that was when I got a surprising text, albeit not from Renee.
It was from Landon.
“Club wants you to come in to discuss what happened with Owen. You free?”
I responded immediately that I was. It was only half an hour to the beginning of the meeting anyways, so I didn’t waste any time getting dressed or stalling. I just headed back to the clubhouse on my bike. When I got outside, Landon was waiting for me with my cut in hand, his arms folded, and a knowing smile on his face.
“What’s up?” I said, even though I was starting to get an idea of what was going on.
“You can’t go in there without having this on,” he said, throwing the cut to me, leaving me no choice but to reach out and grab it.
“Already?”
“There’s still a discussion. But we’re letting you in for now.”
I suppose that’s fair. I can’t really say I completely deserve to be left off the hook.
Landon escorted me into the meeting room, where the rest of the officers sat. The only one who didn’t look me in the eye and nod was Parker, who just kept his gaze down or straight ahead. I knew that someday, the two of us would come back around and be friends, or at least respect each other, but that day apparently was not going to come anytime soon.
“Welcome back, Zane,” Brock said from the head of the table. “You did something that went beyond just Owen, you know. You managed to eliminate the last serious threat in this town and the surrounding area to the Savage Kings. For the first time in… hell, maybe ever, we have true peace in Romara. And it’s thanks to the efforts of you and Landon.”
“Thanks,” I said, trying not to sound too proud. I had merely lucked into appearing at the right spot at the right time, nothing more.
“And because of this, we’re going to reinstate you back into the club,” Brock said.
I smiled in appreciation, but it all just felt a little… too fast, a little too unearned. I knew that what I had done for the club was a great thing, no doubt. And in few weeks, I’d probably be able to take greater pride in this than I was right now.
But again, luck had played a big role. I had learned to be more patient and to be more honest, but I still felt like I had a lot of growing to do.
This wasn’t to say, though, that I was just not going to come back to the club. That was ridiculous. This club was my lifeline, my blood and my soul; to forgo it entirely was even dumber than just blindly accepting everything back.
“Is this a full reinstatement?” I asked.
“Yep,” Brock said. “You’re back to being an officer. Feels good to be back, right?”
I wearily smiled, looked around the room, looked down at my cut, and sighed.
“It does,” I said before taking a deep breath. “But I don’t think I’m ready to be an officer of this club.”
Brock went from looking like a proud president, a confident smile on his face, to his jaw actually dropping. The rest of the club mirrored his reaction.
“The fuck?” Parker—fucking Parker—said. If Parker was saying it, then it was a goddamn given that everyone else was thinking the same thing.
“I made a huge mistake when I lied to you all about going out to hunt for Owen. The fact that I killed him, while I do think it has played a big part in making things better, doesn’t erase that I lied about it. I know I have a lot of self-growth I need to do, and as a result, I don’t think it’s right for me to hold on to the title of officer for the moment.”
“Damn…” Brock breathlessly muttered.
“I still want to stay in this club. But I have some growth I need to do in order to become the man I want to be and the officer I want to be. So, Brock, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to simply remain a member of this club and have someone else take my role here.”
“I… uh… well, this is unexpected,” Brock said with a laugh—like it was the only reaction he could muster. “You’re sure about this?”
“In my gut, yes.”
Brock slowly started to look impressed.
“Well, Zane, I’m going to be honest with you, I’m not going to fill your role anytime soon. I want you to come back to this position whenever you want, but I’m not going to rush you either. You do whatever you have to do, and if we reach a point where we have to fill this role with someone else, we will. But let’s just say for now, the role is yours to step back into.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
I had no idea when—or even if—that bridge would come back anytime soon. Truth be told, I hadn’t even thought about this self-demotion until I had walked into the meeting hall. But as soon as I said the words, I knew I could describe them as completely true.
At least, though, I was back in the club.
And now with that taken care of, with my place with my brothers secure, with the acknowledgment I needed to grow, and with everything else set, I just needed to figure out one more thing.
Renee.
4
Renee
It was Friday morning, and for the first time in a few weeks, I had no Friday morning appointments lined up.
This was what I had wanted. I had wanted to end my professional association with Zane, and having done so, I felt free.
But I had not wanted the radio silence on the other end of the line. That didn’t necessarily mean that I wanted to have the radio blasting on full volume and for us to move into a relationship, but to just go cold turkey? To just have nothing said?
That sucked. It meant that when Friday came around, I had to wait in the office just to make sure Zane hadn’t missed the message somehow. I had to make sure that he didn’t show up, the text message having not gone through. I knew that was just bullshit, though; I knew that a part of me secretly hoped that he would show up so that I could see him again.
Crazy, wasn’t it? I wanted to push him away professionally, but as soon as I did, I was left wondering when he would come back. I had counseled so many women through breakups, and I knew that this would happen… and now that it was, I was like a slave to the feelings.
I couldn’t decide if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Zane had not showed up, confirming that he had gotten the text message. He was too dutiful to coming to these sessions for him to have slept in, especially now that the club didn’t have any real threats with Owen gone. The push-pull in my head seemed to switch winning sides from moment to moment, and expecting it to settle in the course of an hour was just ludicrous.
I didn’t have an appointment until 10
:30, meaning I had over two hours without anything to do in the morning. I tried to figure out the best way to handle it.
And then I settled on the one thing that I had always advocated as a fundamental truth for everything and everyone, for every circumstance and every situation.
The truth.
And right now, there was one person in particular whom I needed to come clean to.
I walked through the front door of the police station ten minutes later. With it being a small building, the sheriff’s office was easily locatable, and I could see that Sheriff Jones had already settled in. I went up, knocked, and came in as soon as he saw me.
“Renee Falcone,” he said, a little bit of surprise in his voice. “I thought you had your appointments with Zane at this hour? Do you need me to do something?”
“No, not at all, Sheriff,” I said, taking a seat across from him. “Actually, Zane has shown remarkable growth and progress since we started.”
“Good,” he said, and he sounded genuine about it. “I like to put a little bit of my influence on them when they’re young. When the patriarch of the Kings was around, he did the job for me, but since he passed, I like to think that I have a small role in making sure that those boys get their ass in gear whenever necessary.”
I nodded as the sheriff took a sip of his coffee.
“So what brings you here, then?”
“Well, I need to come clean on something,” I said. I took a deep breath and sighed. “You were the one that requested I work as Zane’s therapist. I believe I handled that with aplomb. For the most part. However…”
At the last second, I had to admit, I did a little bit of self-preservation. I decided to save myself by not revealing the entire truth, just parts of it.
“As you know, last weekend, Owen tried to kill me.”
“Unfortunately so, yes.”
“And you also know that Zane and Landon killed him?”
The sheriff just smiled, not saying anything, confirming to me that he had deliberately left the scene of the murder once Landon and Zane had persuaded him a bit. A couple months ago, this might have outraged me; now, I understood that Romara worked with a little bit more nuance, a little bit more gray, than I could have ever understood as an outsider.
“Well, the truth is, that’s twice now that Zane has saved my life, or at least prevented me from getting in messy situations,” I said. “A couple weeks back, I was driving by their clubhouse when Owen struck. Zane chased him off. And, well, when someone saves your life, it’s impossible to look at them objectively and give them advice.”
I was very careful with my words, and yeah, like I said, it was self-serving. But what I was saying was true, and it was an honest assessment of what had happened.
“So, while I do feel confident that Zane has grown a lot recently, I think it is in his best interests to find a therapist besides me. His actions saved my life, and while I would take that over him being my patient any day of the week, it is important to nevertheless note that I don’t think I can continue being his therapist.”
The sheriff took one more sip of his coffee, put it down, breathed out slowly through his nostrils, and smiled.
“Those boys,” he said. “They’re bastards, they’re drunkards, they’re loud mouths, and they’re just fucking great for this town. I had a feeling that if anyone was going to break the therapist-client relationship, it was going to be Zane. I would imagine he flirted with you some?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” I said, trying my bes to keep my smile contained and in control. “It was like trying to corral Cupid himself.”
“No kidding,” the sheriff said. “Well, I understand. Obviously, I’m not your boss, so I can’t do anything. Nor would I want you to do anything.”
“I know, but—”
“I brought him to you? Yes, I know. And after that? It was all up to you.”
He smiled.
“I don’t know how you managed to resist his charms, Renee. That man could make an ice queen melt to death with how smitten she would feel.”
I decided silence was the better part of discretion here and just nodded.
“I’ll say that the mandated therapy has been completed, and Zane is welcome to do therapy with anyone else if he likes. Otherwise, thanks for the work you did, Renee.”
“Of course, thanks, Sheriff,” I said, standing up.
Just before I got to the door, Sheriff Jones called to me.
“If you do do something with him, just do your best to make it so I don’t know.”
I smiled back. The sheriff just chuckled and shook his head. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t. But what mattered was that he had given me the freedom to go and pursue Zane if I wanted.
And did I?
As I exited the police station, I knew what my gut said.
But first, my brain and heart had to come around.
I pulled out my phone, found my text messages with Zane, and sent one off to him.
“Can we meet?”
5
Zane
I had to literally put my phone down and pace in my bedroom when I got Renee’s text.
It was remarkable how much things had changed in just the span of a few months. I would never again doubt the efficacy of therapy, that was for sure. I had not just not been this affected by a woman before Renee, I had taken pride in it. If people asked me what I valued in a woman, I would crack some joke about how quickly she would leave after sex or how quickly she would get to sex.
Now? I was acting like an awkward teenager, trying to decide how to best respond to Renee’s request to meet up. I mean, of course we were. I wasn’t going to be so prideful or so stupid as to pass up a chance to meet with Renee.
But did I respond now? Did I answer her with a “Sure” or a shorter response? Or should I wait a bit to respond?
This is fucking stupid. If you’re going to be an adult, that means handling this like an adult. That doesn’t mean just acting like a fucking insecure dipshit.
I grabbed my phone and typed out a response.
“Yes. Tonight? Porter Ridge?”
But I didn’t hit send immediately. I wanted to sit on the text for a few minutes and think about if it was the right place.
Tonight made sense. I would be skipping the party, but that was probably for the best. It would prevent me from making a questionable decision, and frankly, I didn’t even want to pursue casual sex; even if Renee hadn’t sent that text, I doubted I would have done anything more than shown up, had a few drinks, and headed home. But this at least eliminated any chance of a regrettable decision.
Porter Ridge… it was a bit public. It was a bit loud. I wasn’t quite sure if that was going to be the best place for me to go, especially if we needed to have a conversation. But to suggest her place…
Fuck it. I hit send.
I’d done what I needed to do. I put my phone down, but before it had left my hand, the vibration told me that she was already reaching back out. I grabbed it and saw that she had liked the text. She was in. I was in.
Now, it was time to see what happened when we met up.
I’ll admit that I dressed a little better than normal. I still had my cut and jeans on, but instead of a a t-shirt on underneath, I put on a button-down. I made sure that my facial hair was reasonably trimmed. I showered just before I headed out, aware that I would smell like oil with my bike but still wanting to mitigate the overall stench as much as possible.
When I parked my bike outside Porter Ridge and stared inside, I didn’t see her yet. I walked up to the tall windows and looked inside, trying to see if she was already waiting at the bar.
“Good timing, huh?”
I turned, surprised to see Renee walking up with something like a guarded smile on her face.
“Hey,” I said, holding my arms out for a hug. “How’s your day been?”
“Interesting,” she said. “I went to talk to the sheriff today. Told him that you were good to go on therapy.”
> “Really,” I said, surprised. I guessed I had just anticipated the sheriff shifting me over to someone else, not necessarily releasing me.
“Yep. I know it seems like he has it out for you, but he has his reasons for acting as he did. In any case, you don’t have to be waking up at the crack of dawn on Friday mornings anymore.”
“Just when I was starting to get used to it,” I cracked, drawing a gentle laugh from Renee. “Shall we go inside?”
“Yes please,” I said, taking a step to the side to open the door for her.
Renee stepped through and took a seat at an open table. I sat across from her, not even thinking to grab a drink—I just wanted to chat with her.
“You’re not going to get a drink?”
I sheepishly smiled, realizing I probably looked the part of desperate fool eager to get the girl back. She requested an IPA, and I came back with her IPA and my stout.
“So,” I said, taking a sip. “You wanted to chat?”
“I did,” she said, nodding. “I suppose I will just lay everything out, Zane. And then we can figure things out from there.’
“Works for me,” I said.
I was cautiously optimistic about how things were going to go. But I also was very aware that things could fall apart if they went poorly.
“It would be a lie to say anything other than that I like you,” she said. “I don’t think that’s exactly breaking news, but I don’t think that it’s something that has been said explicitly until now. And if I didn’t say it before, then it needs to be said. But. It also needs to be said that for me to feel comfortable with acting on that, there’s a whole lot of things I need to make clear.”
Good start. But until you two are in each other’s arms at her place, none of this means anything.
“First of all. We need to go slow. Very, very slow. As in, slower than I think you’ll be comfortable with at first. Realize that what I am proposing is not ‘we’re together so now we’re everything for each other.’ It’s, ‘we would be together, but it would take time for us to move in the right direction and there will be bumps along the way.’ So I need to know right now that emotionally, you’ll move slow. Clearly, we’ve already been intimate physically, but emotionally is much scarier.”
Final Absolution: An MC Romance (Savage Kings MC Book 20) Page 2
