by Drew Elyse
She stepped close to Kate, saying her name in a soft voice before touching her arm. Kate still jumped at the contact.
“How about we go get you in bed? You need sleep. Daz will calm Owen down and we’ll watch him while you get some rest,” Avery coaxed.
Kate blinked her way a few times while I kept trying to get Owen to stop saying he wanted Joel. It was going to be best for all of us if she just listened to Avery and let me handle this. Fact was, she wasn’t in a place where she could.
Not that I was convinced I was.
Finally, Kate nodded and let Avery lead her from the room. As she did, my girl glanced over her shoulder at me, concerned. I wanted to take that look from her face, but I couldn’t. This was a mess, and I didn’t just mean the circumstance. Everything about Joel’s family had fallen apart since we lost him.
“I know I’m not Daddy, little man,” I said in as soothing a voice as I could manage. “I’d get him for you if I could. But I’m right here, and you’re okay.”
This time, it was a small whimper when he said again, “Want Daddy.”
I did too. I wanted more than anything on this earth to be able to go get him his dad, to magically bring Joel back.
Fuck, I would take his place if I could so Kate and Owen wouldn’t have to be without him.
But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do anything.
“I’m sorry,” I rasped, my throat tight.
For the longest time, I just stood there with my tiny nephew clinging to me, crying and desperate for his dad. Slowly, his sobs faded into little hiccoughs. Then, there was nothing.
“I think he’s asleep,” Avery whispered.
She was right there. I was tempted to ask her to just stay right in that spot. Maybe forever. Just stand in front of me and let me look at her. At least when I was doing that, the rest didn’t hurt so fucking badly.
“I should put him down,” I said quietly back, careful not to disturb Owen.
She nodded, her eyes full of sympathy. She knew I was a mess. She might have even known I was afraid to set Owen down in bed because I was pretty sure holding onto him was the only thing keeping me together in that moment.
“Come on.” She was using that same gentle voice she had with Kate. It was the kind you used with a wounded animal, a scared child.
Or apparently with grieving adults who couldn’t fucking cope.
I followed her steps back to Owen’s room, letting her guide me through the process of getting him laid down in his bed. She tucked him in.
When he was settled, she took my hand and led me out to the living room. There, she laid us both down and let me hold onto her instead.
There were a million things I wanted to say. I wanted to voice my grief. I wanted to share my concern over Kate and Owen. I wanted to thank her for bringing me to this couch instead of upstairs where I was too far away from them.
I said none of it. I just held on for dear life.
“Not a good sign that you’re down here when you got that woman of yours upstairs,” Stone observed.
He was right. It was the middle of the night. Avery was up in my room, asleep. Kate and Owen were down for the count as well. After what had happened earlier that day, I got on the phone with Doc. He got on the phone himself, and procured Kate some sleeping pills.
To say it freaked me the fuck out to hand a woman struggling as much as her a bottle of sleeping pills was putting it lightly.
“You sure that’s wise?” I’d asked him, unable to put words to why it wouldn’t be.
I hadn’t been a part of his conversation with Kate about the decision. Doc hadn’t practiced medicine professionally for decades, and a lot of the time that meant his ways of doing shit for us wasn’t the sort of professional standards of a hospital. But one thing he never compromised on was privacy when it was needed—as in, as long as you weren’t actively bleeding all over the fucking place.
“She’s not suicidal, son. She’s experiencing some severe grief and depression, but she’s got not one thought of leaving that boy,” Doc had informed me. I felt an overwhelming relief to hear that outright. I had been trying to figure out how I could broach the topic with Kate myself, but I was terrified of making shit worse.
“I thought that was a concern, no way I’d give her that shit,” Doc had gone on. “Hard to do it that way, anyway. Sleeping pills’ll likely put you under before you can complete suicide, but I wouldn’t take the risk. That’s not what we’re dealing with. Even so, I’m only getting her a small amount. Also talked her into sittin’ down with a therapist. Pills can help her fall asleep, but they can’t rid her of the shit swirling in her head keeping her up. Been wanting to push her that way for a while, but it only works if she’s willing.”
He had been right. I had suggested her talking to someone. I’d brought it up after the funeral, I’d asked again when we got to Hoffman, and I’d mentioned it since. She'd never so much as responded.
Now, she was sleeping, hopefully straight through the night, with the help of medication, and Doc was on a mission of finding her someone to work through her grief with. Still, that shit this afternoon had proven we were nowhere near out of the woods.
“Shit’s just piling on too high,” I told Stone.
I swirled the lowball of whiskey around before taking another drink. It was the only one I was getting. Couldn’t get drunk with all this going on. There was no telling how Kate would handle the pills. I had to be prepared to be up early with Owen. I was going to make sure she slept as long as her body let her.
Stone grabbed a seat at the table across from me, looking like he was sitting down to a meeting. He had that air of authority that didn’t just shut off.
“Jager touched base about the ex,” Stone said. Since I’d asked Jager to do that so I wouldn’t have to add that shit to my plate, I wasn’t surprised. “He give you any updates there?”
“Not yet. Know he’s getting all Avery’s shit locked down while digging into that fucker’s. Asked him to let me know if there’s any change to him being around town. Brother said the prick is staying close, checked in at a hotel,” I explained.
He nodded. “Shit’s fucked. Hate that Avery had to deal with that. She doesn’t deserve that.”
I resisted the urge to pound back the last of the whiskey, and stated, “He took her dream from her. My girl spent her whole life working toward it, and he took it right before she made it real.”
“She’s young. It’s not too late for her to make it happen. Fucking sucks she isn’t already living it, but there’s still a chance.”
Was there? All the fucking money. It wasn’t easy to save that much. The club did well. Businesses we owned—the garage, the strip club, the fighter gym Jager and Ember ran—brothers who worked in them regularly took checks for their time, and profits were split out among all of us. Everything we were running was way in the black. Other sources of cash—underground fights, protection for transport, shit like that—weren’t as steady, but they were nice payouts when they came in. That shit meant none of us were hurting, myself included.
But there was a serious difference between not hurting and having seventy-five thousand free to drop. Even if I did, no way Avery would accept it. She’d made a point of saying she didn't want to be indebted to a bank, but there was more to it. I could tell in the way she said it that she didn’t want to be in any kind of debt to anyone. She wanted her dream, and she wanted to be the one to make it happen. I got the impression if that wasn’t how she got it, it wouldn’t be the dream at all.
“What’s the rest?” Stone asked. I gave him a blank look because I wasn’t following. “Shit piling on,” he clarified.
Right.
“Kate’s not coping. Not surprising. I’ve got a slippery grip on coping. She’s the only person on this earth who loved him more than me. Understanding doesn’t make it better, though. She’s struggling at best and I can’t help her. Owen’s caught up in it. I gotta take care of them both for him, and today it
was made entirely too fucking clear I’m failing all around.”
“Shit goes wrong, brother. Doesn’t mean you’re failing,” Stone insisted. “I know that struggle. Feel it anytime shit goes wrong for this club. Crap that went down with Ash that got Ace hurt, that shit with Jager and Ember, even little shit. Anytime things don’t run smooth, I feel that. Means the fucking world to me you all want me to hold the gavel, but it’s a heavy burden.
“You're my brother, but it ain’t a secret you’ve avoided that kind of shit. No old lady, no kids, nothing. Suddenly, you’re running Candy Shop, you got Avery and this shit that’s plaguing her, and taking care of your family, and it’s not lost on any of us that you’re shouldering all this on top of losing Joel. What you’ve got to remember is you’ve got that patch on your back. We’re your brothers. You don’t have to tackle it all alone.”
That was all he had to say, which he made plain by getting up and walking out—but not before dropping a hand to my shoulder as he passed.
Stone didn't mince words. He didn’t tend to speak much, but he had something to say when he did. Right then, he'd come to my side because he had words he needed to give me.
Words I needed to hear.
“And, brother,” he called, and I turned to see him at the doorway of the kitchen. “I get what you're feeling about what that fucker did to your girl. Not fucking right. She’s one of us now because she’s yours, but she was under our protection even before that through working for us. I won’t order you not to take your retribution. I know that burn is hard to resist. What I will say is, you did five inside already. You get popped for something, they'll come down hard. You start to succumb to the heat, remember the bodies sleeping in this house and think about how it would feel to get locked away from that.”
Fuck.
Yeah, when Stone gave you his words, he didn’t mince them.
I downed the rest of the whiskey. The burn felt good, but didn’t last nearly long enough.
Knowing there was nothing for it, I stood and headed to bed.
Avery was asleep on her side, facing mine. Even in just the bit of light coming in from the hall around the edges of the door, she looked fucking beautiful. Twenty or so odd years, I’d been appreciating the variety of ways first girls, and then women, could be beautiful. What fucked with my head was Avery seemed to be damn near all of them.
I knew Stone was right about that shit he’d laid out, but seeing her right there and having the painful knowledge of what that fucker had done, that logic made me feel fucking useless.
Climbing into bed beside her, I couldn’t even bring myself to pull her in close.
Stone was also right about how I should have been asking for help when I needed it. Another fucking failure on my part. Instead of having the mind to reach out to my brothers and their women, besides asking Jager for a hand with his computer expertise, I’d been letting Kate suffer through waiting for me to figure out what the fuck I was going to do alone.
I lay there for a while, stewing in my own self-loathing. It was an unfamiliar sensation, to be so fucking pissed at yourself. I’d never been there before. I was the one who went with the flow. Even getting thrown in prison hadn’t hit me all that hard. Mostly, I just hated being confined and without pussy or good food. But it never turned inward. I never got upset over landing myself there.
Life was life. Shit happened, you moved on.
But the shit happening now felt like shit I was supposed to be preventing, fixing, what the fuck ever.
I just had no damn clue how.
I was about to get up and find something to keep myself occupied rather than lying in bed stewing all fucking night, when Avery pressed in at my back. Her arm went around my waist, then crossed up over my chest. I didn’t move or speak, not wanting to wake her. She nuzzled into my back, her warmth seeping into me.
Maybe it was subconscious, or maybe she woke enough to read the tension in me and wanted to offer me her sweet brand of support. It didn’t really matter. All that was important was the way her touch made all that shit fade away. My body relaxed, and it was like she’d magically brought that sleep that had seemed impossibly far away right into reach.
Fuck it. I’d been pussy-footing around the thought for too long. It was time I at least admitted it to my own fucking self.
I could fall in love with this woman.
Could? Joel’s voice was back, and maybe it was that soothing feeling of Avery spooning my back, but it didn’t freak me out this time. I got news for you, dumbass. There’s no fucking could about it.
Christ, even in my head, he was a dick.
But maybe he wasn’t wrong.
Four days later, I was feeling the smallest spark of hope.
I tried to keep it contained. The last thing I needed was that exploding in my face, but I didn’t smother it down to nothing either.
The pills were working. Kate was sleeping through the night, and just that change was fucking remarkable. Even after the first night, she’d stopped looking like the walking dead and started resembling the Kate I'd known since Joel brought her into my world when I was thirteen. Three more days of actually sleeping, and she looked perfectly normal again.
I knew that difference was still mostly exterior, though. She’d lined up an appointment with a therapist Doc found for a couple weeks out. Then, the hard work of dragging the real Kate back to the land of the living would start. But even she seemed a little more hopeful about what that work could bring now.
Avery, the beautiful fucking woman, was throwing herself into helping me with everything. Kate’s pills were still an adjustment, so she was sleeping in quite late. Which, compared to her not sleeping at all, was a far better option. Avery would get up with me so Owen wouldn’t be alone or stuck in his room because no adults were up yet. She’d make both of us breakfast, and take a shift of watching out for him while I showered.
When I’d tried to tell her she didn’t have to, she’d shut me down.
But more amazing than that was what she was doing with Kate.
After Avery wrangled Kate away from that scene, the two seemed to have formed some kind of bond. Before, Kate would slink from the room if anyone else was around with me—even Doc, who she’d known for about as long as she did me—but it was like she was more inclined to stay if Avery was around.
Hell, I'd even come into rooms and found just the two of them, shocking the fuck out of me.
Like right then.
Avery was in the kitchen, making chocolate chip cookies with Owen’s “help.” Even though her son was supervised, Kate didn’t take the opportunity to hide away. She was right there with them, helping Owen with the tasks Avery gave them.
They were pouring in measured cups of flour and shit, which Owen was getting a kick out of. He was laughing at the little powder clouds billowing up from the bowl when his mom tipped his hand to let the ingredients fall in. Avery was to the side, measuring the next items by memory with a smile on her face at his delight.
But what made the sight absolutely fucking amazing was the fact that Kate was smiling too.
She’d had them for her son when he was looking at her, not wanting him to feel that agony she carried with her. They weren’t entirely disingenuous, but they weren’t the real, bright ones she used to give. Outside of that, I hadn’t seen one—forced or otherwise. Right then, even though Owen’s back was to her, she had a small smile gracing her lips I’d be fucking shocked if she even knew was there.
Avery did that.
Later that night, I was in the office at Candy Shop, looking through pricing quotes from a couple liquor distributors. More than one of the last few shipments from our current company had arrived with errors—under-packed boxes, wrong brands, all kinds of headaches. At the same time they were fucking up, they were jacking up prices.
So, it was time to jump ship and find someone else to meet that need.
I was starting to consider ordering from two different companies to get the best rate
s on various products when there was a knock at the door.
Secretly hoping it was Avery coming in to distract us both with something far more fun than work, I called, “Come in.”
It was David.
Thoughts of middle-of-work delight were gone in an instant.
If one of the security team knocked on my door during hours, that was rarely a good sign.
“Talk,” I ordered.
“Got eyes on that guy you sent the profile around for,” he stated.
Aaron.
That motherfucker was sniffing around my goddamn club now.
“When?”
“Just now. Scott saw him, radioed in to me. Says he was walking down the sidewalk. Came by, Scott couldn’t get a look. Then he walked back again and got under the lights just so. Says it was definitely him. I instructed him to follow, but to keep that shit discreet. Says he walked a couple lots down, then got in a black sedan, few years old. Scott got a partial plate on it and said the guy was headed south.”
I already had my phone out, getting Jager’s info pulled up.
“Right,” I responded to David as I hit call.
“You want the plate?” he asked.
Jager’s line was already ringing. “No. Got it already.”
He read the dismissal and stepped back out.
A moment later, the ringing cut off, and I got a, “Yeah?”
“Where’s that fucker staying?” I demanded without preamble.
“The motel on Western,” he answered without delay.
I knew the place, and it was south of here.
“Got it,” I wrapped up, hanging up then. Jager didn’t do chitchat and I was in no fucking mood.
I was on the move, not stopping to think it through. He’d had his warning. I’d even stuck to my end of the bargain and hadn’t gone after his ass. Now, he was trying to skulk around outside where Avery worked.
No. That shit was not going to fly.
On the way out, I ran into David again at the exit. Forcing myself to think rationally for even a fucking moment, I stopped, and told him, “You see Avery, tell her I’ll be back soon.”
