It Ends Tonight (Bayou Devils MC Book 4)

by A. M. Myers

  I scowl. “You want something else? I could grab some ice cream or medicine or whatever you want.”

  “No, I don’t want anything.”

  Worry eats away at me as I push off the wall and walk down the hallway. “Maybe you should go see the doc, Quinn. You really don’t sound good.”

  “I’ll be okay. I just need sleep.”

  “Okay,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Well, give me like an hour or two and then I’ll come hang out with Brooklyn so you can get some sleep.”

  “No. I don’t want you to catch it.”

  “Babe, I don’t give a shit about me,” I tell her. “I’m worried about you.”

  She sighs. “I’ll be fine, Lucas. Just worry about your brother.”

  “I’ll deal with him and then I’m coming over.”

  “No!” she practically shouts and I pause, my eyes widening. “I really just don’t want to get you sick, okay? Promise me you won’t stop by the house?”

  I stare at the wall for a second before sighing. “Okay, but you gotta text me and let me know how you’re doing or I will come over there.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “I’m serious, Quinn. I want hourly updates and if you need anything, you better call me. It doesn’t matter what else I’m doing, you come first.”

  “I love you,” she whispers and I swear I hear her voice crack just a little, but before I can say anything else, she hangs up on me and I pull the phone away from my ear, gaping. I don’t care how many times she tells me she’s fine. There is definitely something wrong.

  I stare at my phone for a minute before dialing Tate’s number.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “How was Quinn when you took her home last night?”

  She sucks in a breath. “I mean, she was acting like she didn’t feel very well.”

  “Tate, come on. I have this feeling that something is going on but no one is talking about it.”

  “Look, I’m sorry but I really don’t know anything. She said she wasn’t feeling well and asked me to take her home. You had disappeared so I agreed.”

  I still can’t shake the feeling that she’s not telling me everything but I have no proof so I sigh and try to forget it.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  I shake my head. “Naw, it’s okay. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Sounds good.”

  We hang up and I shove my phone in my pocket before stopping in front of my door and leaning back against the wall across from it and before my thoughts can even fall down the rabbit hole of why my woman is ignoring me, something crashes inside my room. Sucking in a breath, I push off the wall.

  “Here we go,” I whisper to myself before stepping forward and opening the door. Clay is in the corner of the room, looking through the books on my bookshelf and his head snaps up as I walk in the room.

  “Looking for my cash?”

  He tosses the book in his hand down on the floor and glares at me. “Come on, big bro. I just need a little bit.”

  “No, you don’t,” I answer, grabbing his shirt off the chair and tossing it at him. “Get dressed.”

  “Why?”

  “There is somewhere I want to take you.”

  He takes a step back and shakes his head. “I’m not going to rehab.”

  “Believe me, Clay, I’d love nothing more than to drag your ass to rehab but that’s not where we’re going today. Now, get dressed.”

  “Aren’t you going to give me a little privacy?”

  “Why?” I growl. “So you can sneak out of the clubhouse and go get high again. I don’t fucking think so.”

  “Motherfucker,” he mutters, shoving his arms in the sleeves of his t-shirt before grabbing his jeans and pulling them on. When he has his tennis shoes on, he stands and flashes me an expectant look. “Willing to tell me where we’re going now?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Let’s go.”

  I have to push him out of the room and continually nudge him down the stairs and outside to my truck. Once he’s in the passenger seat, I sigh and round the hood before jumping in and firing it up.

  “Are we going to see Dad?” he asks as I pull out of the parking lot and I barely avoid glaring in his direction.

  “No.”

  We’re silent for the rest of the trip and when I pull up to the cemetery, I feel his shocked gaze whip to my face.

  “What the fuck are we doing here?”

  I put the truck in park and turn it off. “We’re here to see Mom.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” he whispers, shaking his head. The fear in his eyes is exactly the same as all those years ago as I packed up our things and pushed him out of our bedroom window. Maybe this is exactly what he needs or maybe this will send him off the deep end but I know that it’s time for me to do something other than what I’ve been doing for the past six years.

  “Tough shit. Get out of the truck.”

  He seems smaller as he gets out and meets me on the other side, like all this time he’s still been the five-year-old little boy who went on the run after his father killed his mother.

  “Why are we here, Luke?”

  I sigh and we start walking along one of the paths. “I’ve never told you what happened that night.”

  “And you’re going to tell me now?” he scoffs and I nod, glancing over at him.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  We stop in front of our mother’s grave and I suck in a breath as I read her name on the tombstone:

  Amanda Julette

  Devoted Wife and Mother

  “What do you remember from the night she died?”

  He shakes his head. “Just yelling and being scared but my earliest clear memory is running through the forest with you and finding the boxcar.”

  “The night she died, it had been raining all day and around dinner time, these thunderstorms rolled in. The thunder was so loud that it shook the walls in our bedroom and I laid there for hours, unable to fall asleep so I heard them as soon as they started fighting. It had been happening a lot before that and I found out later that Dad had been using drugs.”

  “No,” Clay snaps, backing away from me as he shakes his head. “Dad isn’t an addict.”

  I nod. “Yeah, he is. That’s why he lost his job a few months before Mom died and why they were fighting so much.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I know you don’t,” I whisper, turning back to her grave. “We’d been in bed for a few hours when the fighting got louder, scarier than anything else I could remember and it got so bad that it woke you up, too.”

  “What else?” he asks, his voice rough and my hands shake as I suck in a breath.

  “You were laying in bed, crying, and I was trying so hard to get you to be quiet because I knew if Dad heard you, he’d come after us and I couldn’t let that happen. As I was trying to calm you down, there was this bang, so fucking loud that my ears were ringing, and then it was silent. That silence, I’ve never heard anything more terrifying in my life.”

  Clay steps forward and lays his hand on Mom’s grave. “I don’t remember her.”

  “She was like sunshine - always cheerful even when everything was going wrong. She’d find a way to make us laugh and make it all seem okay and she was so warm. All you had to do was be near her to feel her love because it just radiated off her.”

  “I’ve spent my whole life jealous of you for being able to remember her.”

  I wipe away a tear. “I’m sorry, Clay, but I was a kid, too, and I couldn’t stop what happened anymore than you could have.”

  “What happened next?”

  “The bang just made you scream louder and I made you shove your face in a pillow ‘cause I didn’t know what was happening yet and I crept toward the door. When I opened our bedroom door, I saw her. Mom was laying at the other end of the hall with a hole in her head and a puddle of blood all around her body. Dad was next to her
, holding the gun in his hand and covered in her blood. It was everywhere, Clay. All over the walls, the floor, all I could see was red.”

  “But you didn’t see him pull the trigger,” Clay breathes like I’ve just unveiled some forgotten clue and I grit my teeth.

  “It doesn’t matter! He killed her.”

  He shakes his head, backing away from me. “You don’t know that for sure. Unless you watched him pull the trigger, you don’t know.”

  “You’ve got to stop this, Clay. This isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

  He takes another step back. “I’m going to find the truth, Luke. It’s like one of those movies Iris likes to watch. No one believes me but I’m going to prove you all wrong and get our dad out of jail.”

  “Just stop!” I roar, balling my fists at my sides. “This isn’t a goddamn movie and you can’t prove him innocent because he’s guilty, Clay. What you need to focus on is getting clean. Blaze is looking for a good rehab facility for you and we’re going to get you better.”

  “No,” he snaps, taking a few more steps back. “I’m not going and you can’t make me.”

  “Actually, I can and this is what is best for you.”

  Without another word, he turns and takes off running.

  “Fuck,” I growl, chasing after him but he’s faster than me and it’s not long before I lose him in the maze of graves. I skid to a stop and squeeze my eyes shut before spinning around and slamming my fist into the tree on the side of the path. “Fuck!”

  As I catch my breath, I walk back to Mom’s grave and drop to my knees in front of it.

  “Hey, Mom,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes again. I remember all the times Clay and I would fight when we were kids and Mom would pull us apart, telling us that we had to look after each other, not fight. I lay my hand flat against the stone and sigh. “I’m trying, Mom. I’m trying so hard.”

  I sit in front of her grave and tell her all about Quinn and Brooklyn before promising to keep trying to help Clay and as I’m leaving, I spot a cardinal in a tree on the edge of the cemetery. It looks right at me before flying off and I watch it until it disappears.

  When I get in the truck, I pull out my phone and send a text to Quinn.

  Me:

  Hey, babe.

  How are you feeling?

  Quinn:

  Fine.

  I read her message and throw the phone across the cab of my truck before leaning my head back against the headrest and closing my eyes.

  “Fine, my ass,” I whisper, determined to figure out what the hell is going on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lucas

  My eyes burn as I lean back in my chair and lift my coffee mug to my lips. I’m on my fourth damn cup of this stuff but it’s still not helping. Of course, it would be best if I had gotten any sleep last night but between trying to check on Quinn and looking for my brother, that didn’t happen. I glance down at my phone on the table, irritated that she still hasn’t answered my last text. When I wasn’t driving around this whole damn city looking for Clay, who’s honestly probably so high he can’t see straight, I was texting her and her answers were always vague one or two word responses that tell me something is seriously wrong.

  “You okay, bud?” Chance asks, sitting down across from me and I shake my head.

  “Nope. Been a pretty shit night, actually.”

  He nods. “Your brother?”

  “And my woman.”

  “What the hell is going on with Quinn?” he asks as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. I sigh.

  “No fucking clue. She disappeared from the baby shower and now she’s saying that she’s sick and doesn’t want me to come around.”

  “Maybe she’s just sick…”

  I shake my head. “No. She’s not acting anything like herself, barely talking to me and when she does, it’s all vague and noncommittal.”

  “Ah,” he whispers with a nod. “You remember when I first met Carly?”

  “Barely.”

  “Well, she was… difficult to say the least - constantly pushing me away and running from what she was feeling.”

  I shake my head as I glance down at my phone again. “I don’t think that’s what Quinn is doing.”

  “Maybe not but the point is, if you want a long term with her, you may have to chase her a little.”

  I scoff. “I already have chased her. We were together and then this happens.”

  “So, what? You’re going to give up? The good ones are never easy, dude. Trust me.”

  He stands as I sigh as he walks away, my gaze falling to my phone again before I scoop it up and dial her number. Irritation eats away at me as it rings and when her voice mail picks up, I let out a growl.

  Time to make a move.

  If she’s truly sick, I should be there with her despite all her objections and if she’s not, I’m going to get some fucking answers as to why she’s avoiding me. It just doesn’t make any sense. We were having such a good time at the baby shower and then, just like that, she’s gone and I can’t get her to pick up the damn phone.

  “Hey, you headed somewhere?” Blaze asks as I stand up and set my coffee cup on the bar. I nod and slip my phone into my pocket.

  “Yeah, I was just leaving. Why?”

  He looks down at the folder in his hand. “Just need someone to run down this lead on Laney.”

  “Chance is upstairs, not doing anything,” I tell him, nodding to the stairs and he nods.

  “I’ll put him on it. How’s your brother?”

  I sigh. “Missing again. I brought up rehab and he flipped out.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I got other things to worry about right now, though.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “When has anything ever been more important than your brother?”

  “Since someone made me realize there has to be more to my life than being his keeper.”

  “Sounds like a smart woman,” he says with a smile and I nod.

  “Yes, she is.”

  He nods and turns toward the hallway to go find Chance. “Good luck.”

  “Who says I need luck?”

  “That determined look on your face says it all,” he answers with a laugh. “Stubborn ass women will do that to you every time.”

  I shake my head as he disappears into the hallway and I turn toward the door, ready to bulldoze my way into her house if I have to. On my way out to the truck, I dial her number again one last time and her voice mail picks up almost immediately. I pull the phone away from my ear and hang up.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper, staring down at the screen. “You’re screening my calls now, gorgeous?”

  I climb in the truck and as she fires to life, Die a Happy Man by Thomas Rhett starts playing over the radio.

  Shit.

  She’s taken over my life in every single way and I have no clue what I’ll do if I lose her, which is the thought that’s been plaguing me since the baby shower. Maybe she got a taste of my world and decided that it wasn’t for her. I shake my head before backing out of the spot and driving out of the parking lot.

  I know the club isn’t a traditional version of family but they’ll be there through thick and thin, they’ll always have my back, and they’ll welcome Quinn and Brooklyn in without hesitation. If that’s what is going on, if she’s having doubts about the club, I just have to make her see how great it could be to have people to call on for anything.

  As I pull up in front of her house, I let out a breath and put the truck in park before climbing out. I don’t even make it to the first step before Alice steps out of the house and crosses her arms over her chest.

  “What are you doing here, Lucas?”

  “I’m here to see Quinn.”

  She shakes her head. “She’s still sick.”

  “Okay, well, let me in to see her. I’ve been worried.”

  “She doesn’t want you to come in,” she answers. A look
of sympathy flashes across her face before she steps forward, further blocking my way.

  “Alice, what the fuck is going on? I don’t believe that she’s sick.”

  Alice shrugs. “Well, she is and she wants to be left alone.”

  “Quinn!” I yell, stepping back to look up at the windows on the top floor. I swear the curtains move just a fraction of an inch in her bedroom. “Quinn!”

  “Stop, Lucas,” Alice hisses. “I’m sorry but you need to leave.”

  I shake my head as I meet her gaze. “I just want to talk to her.”

  “She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.”

  Fuck.

  I knew there was more going on here.

  “Will you please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t. She’ll contact you when she’s ready to talk.”

  “What the hell do you mean…”

  Alice marches down the step and gives me a little shove, pushing me away from the house. “You need to go, Lucas. Before I call the cops.”

  “Call the cops. I don’t give a shit. Let me talk to her.”

  “Fine.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and begins dialing. I whisper a curse and back away from her, my gaze flicking to Quinn’s empty bedroom window again.

  “Fuck! Hang up the phone. I’m leaving,” I snap, rounding the hood of the truck. She flashes me a sympathetic look as she shoves the phone back in her pocket.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas. She just needs time.”

  “Time for what?” I ask, my voice desperate as panic rips through me. My heart belongs to that woman upstairs and if she’s done with me, I’ll be fucking ruined.

  “I’m sorry,” Alice answers again, turning back to the house and I glance up at the windows one last time, stalling when I meet a set of ice blue eyes that own me completely. Her eyes are red and tears steadily drip down her cheeks as she turns away from me. When the curtain falls back into place, my stomach rolls and I climb in my truck, vowing to be back tomorrow.

  And the next day.

  And the next

  And the next.

  Every day until she finally agrees to talk to me because there is no vision of my future that doesn’t have her in it.