Meg scanned the houses that were occupied on the street, most walks and driveways were still covered. When she realized it was Train's house that only had an inch at the most on the ground, she was confused at first. If he'd been home to do his own, why hadn't he done hers, like he had for every single storm since they'd started this?
Her phone rang, and she answered it quickly even when she saw it wasn't Train. “Hey, Sandra.”
“Hey, honey, how'd you make out last night?”
“I lost power for a while, but I figured I would. Figure we will again.”
“Same here.”
“How are the boys?”
“They're good. The highlight of their night was when the power was out. Manuel told them scary stories and then scared the shit out of them.” Sandra laughed. “They're having a great time. Leo's welcome to stay again tonight.”
Meg wanted to protest, but she couldn't stop him from having fun just because the thought of spending the rest of the day with just her thoughts made her want to weep. “If he wants to, and you're sure that it's not too much of a problem, I've got no problem with it.”
“Fantastic, the boys will be thrilled. They're outside right now, building a bad-ass fort, apparently, though right now they've got their hands full fending off Zoe, who has taken offense to not being included in the fort-building. I'm making them soup for lunch. What are you up to?”
“I'm going to try and work up the energy to start digging myself out,” Meg answered. “I should probably get to it.”
“Your old man didn't send someone to do it? Some of the hang-arounds were here earlier with the snow blower. I guess that they were making the rounds, so maybe they just didn't get over to you yet. You should wait and see, or better yet, call Train and tell him to get them there.”
Meg would have done that if not for the fact that his own house had been shoveled. She didn't want to deal with the statement that made. “You're probably right. Let me do that.” It was the easiest way to get Sandra off of the phone. “Tell Leo to behave and to call me later.” She ended the call, put her earbuds in and got to work.
She was about halfway done when a truck came to a stop in front of the house. She didn't know the truck, but she knew the man who got out of the passenger side. Train was the last person that she'd expected to see. She could tell he was angry by the look on his face and the way he moved. Behind him, she saw Manuel get out of the truck and walk to the cab.
“Why are you out here doing this yourself? Why didn't you call me when it wasn't done? I sent guys over here hours ago. Those dumb fucks only did my place. Fucking idiots,” Train fumed. “You must be frozen.”
“Get her inside, I'll handle out here.” Manuel called out from behind him. Meg looked and saw he was taking a snow blower out of the back of his SUV.
“I appreciate it.” Train reached out and grabbed her hand. “I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Let's go. It's freezing out here.” Meg went along with him into the house. She took off her hat and gloves slowly, kept her eyes anywhere but on him because his anger was still obvious. “You really should have called me, Meg. It was stupid to go outside and do it yourself. Look at you, you're so cold you're shaking. I'm going to shove their heads straight up asses.”
“I'm okay,” Meg's voice trembled. She cleared her throat to cover it. “I'm going to make some tea. Do you want some?”
“I'm good. I need to take a shower. I'm filthy. Maybe you could make me a sandwich or something? I'm starving. Did you eat?”
“I did,” Meg lied. “I'll make you something, though.” She waited where she was to see if he'd come over and give her a kiss or touch her, but he didn't.
“Thanks.” He headed up the stairs, and she headed to the kitchen to make him something to eat. A spark of hope had ignited inside of her when she'd seen him walking towards her outside, it had flickered but remained burning as they came inside. As ridiculous as it might be, if he would have kissed her or touched her, she'd have known that they were okay and her secret was still safe. But he didn't, so even if her secret was safe, there was something going on.
Meg started the kettle for her tea and opened the fridge to find something to make for Train. The act of making the food and the tea calmed her a little, or maybe she was just becoming numb to the inevitable. By the time that Train came back down, she'd made him a cheese steak sandwich, and the french fries were nearly done.
“That smells amazing.” Train walked into the kitchen wearing a white tee shirt and pajama pants.
“Sit down, the fries are almost done.” Meg thought, not for the first time that no one should look so good in a simple tee and a pair of plaid pants. He always looked good to her, she was probably biased, though, because she loved him so much.
“You need a hand?”
“No, I'm good.” Meg could feel the unease between them. There wasn't the easy comfort she'd grown to expect. “I've got tea. Manuel left. I went out of offer him something warm to drink, and he was already gone. He did a really nice job.”
“It should have been done hours ago. And you should have called me instead of going out and doing it yourself.” His anger was back, his eyes were dark with it. Meg looked down to see his hands curled into fists.
“Why are you so pissed about it? It's not like I haven't shoveled before. Do you think Josh got out there and did it? I'm perfectly capable of it.”
“If you're capable or not isn't the point,” he growled. “The point is that it's not something that you have to do now. I'll get it taken care of. I'll take care of you and the boys, no matter what that means. You know that right?”
Meg didn't know how to respond. She'd spent the day wallowing in the worst possible places, she'd been sure that he was getting ready to leave her, that he knew her secret, but here he was, pissed because he felt like he'd failed to take care of her. Was her wallowing for nothing, just another product of her crazy mind?
“That hesitation isn't giving me the warm fuzzies. You didn't call because you didn't think that I'd do anything about it.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait a second, did you think I sent someone to do my place and not yours?” The question was so on the mark that Meg suddenly felt naked and completely exposed. She said nothing and knew the moment that he took her answer from it. There was the anger again. “That's it, isn't it?”
“I didn't say that,” Meg protested, but she knew how weak it sounded.
“Sometimes, you really piss me off.” He looked like he wanted to say more but he didn't.
“Sorry,” her reply was automatic but sincere. She'd spent years saying sorry as every third word in an attempt to not rock the boat. It was only since she'd met Train that she'd started to get out of the habit. It looked like things might be coming full circle after all. “You should eat before the food gets cold. What do you want to drink?”
“Fuck the food.” His voice was low, hardly more than a whisper, but she heard him as if he'd shouted. “I don't know why it feels like I need to walk on eggshells around you right now, so why don't you tell me? What's going on with you? Is this because I didn't come home last night? I probably should have called.”
It wasn't exactly an apology, but Meg knew him well enough to know that it was as close as she'd get to one right now. “You probably should have,” she replied carefully, hoping that she wouldn't make him angrier.
“You must have been worried.” His expression softened. “I didn't mean to make you worry. Next time, I'll call. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Come here.”
“What?” Meg looked up at him.
“Come here,” he repeated. Meg walked over to where he stood. She shut her eyes when he cupped her face with his hand. “I've missed you. Missed this.”
“I missed you, too.” Meg felt her hands start to shake.
“You still cold?” His free hand gripped her hips, pulled her closer to him. “Need me to warm you up?”
“I...” Meg swallowed hard. “I love you.”
&nb
sp; “I know that,” he replied. “I love you. You sure that you're okay?”
Meg nodded even though she wasn't quite sure what she was. Everything that Train said made a warm hope spark inside of her despite the niggling voice in the back of her mind. The idea that things had gone bad between them had hooked its talons in deeply. “I'm good now.” It even felt a little like the truth as she leaned her head against his chest.
Chapter Thirteen
The vote to bring the former Street Kings into the club as full members passed without a hitch. Train had seen, and been both amused and annoyed at, Buster's surprise when he'd voted for them without hesitation. Manuel, Caesar and Einstein had proved themselves. They would be an asset for the club. The possibility that they would betray Nightshade lingered in the back of his mind, but that was the way he was wired. Trust was hard to dole out for him.
“Alright,” Buster had to shout to be heard over the congratulations and good natured ball-busting. “We've got one more order of business to discuss. I think that you all know who that is.”
It was Info and Cane; they were still in the wind. There had been several sightings of Info, but they hadn't been able to pin him down. There was a lot of that going around. Josh hadn't been spotted since the day they'd thought they had him cornered at the law office. The plates from the car had come back, it was leased to the law firm, so it was pretty much a dead end. He was sick of all the dead ends.
“We got anything new?” Danny asked.
“I heard from my guy at the casino, he spotted Info last night,” Monroe offered. “Of course, the dumb fuck didn't call me until this morning, which did us no good. He's going to ask around, see if anyone else who was working remembers seeing him. The girl wasn't with him, though.”
“And no sign of Cane either, right?” Danny spoke up again. “I've been giving it some thought. Cane seemed like a solid guy, one who'd keep his word, so it's never really sit right with me that he brought Info back. What if we're wasting our time looking for him?”
“Ace. Bones. You two think that you can figure out if Cane is dead by running one of your searches or whatever?” Buster asked.
“It's not going to be like on television,” Ace warned. “It's going to take some time and patience.”
“We're in short supply of both those things,” Buster reminded him. “But anything that you two can do is going to be appreciated. Everyone else, keep your eyes and ears open. If there's nothing else, let's get out of here. Train, stay a minute. I need to talk to you.”
Train remained seated as all of the other guys filed out. They'd head downstairs, find drinks and start celebrating the new blood. “What's on your mind, Buster?”
“You,” Buster answered bluntly. “I'm a little worried about you lately.”
“Worried? About me? Why?”
“I know how you are about change, Train. There's been more change in the past few months than I can list. And not just club stuff, you dating someone is pretty much the biggest change of all.”
“What's your point?” Annoyance began to buzz at the base of his skull. He didn't like personal conversations almost as much as he didn't like change. Especially he didn't like conversations with Buster when his president had that particular look in his eye.
“Are you sure that it's not all too much? Lately, you've been not yourself. You aren't hanging out. You have one beer and stop drinking. I saw Claire offering you a go with her and the new blond girl, and you just walked away.” Buster ticked the items off on his fingers.
Train ticked the items back off at him. “Of course, I'm not hanging around here as much as I did at the bar. I lived at the bar. I've got my place now.” Even though it had been nearly a week since he'd set foot back in his actual place. Basically all of his stuff was at Meg's now, anyway. “I have a couple of drinks because I'm not a fan of drunk driving, something which wasn't a problem when I lived at the bar. As far as the pass-around bitches go, none of them have anything on Meg.”
“Things have gotten pretty serious with the two of you. I got to admit, I'm surprised.” Buster leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. “She's a sweet girl.”
“Yeah, she is.” Train chuckled to himself because Buster would never know how sweet she really was. He shifted in the chair as his cock swelled at the thought of being between her legs. He'd been so wrapped up in club stuff lately, he hadn't been spending nearly as much time with Meg as he should have.
“Sweet isn't your thing, Brother. Let's be honest, it's probably the opposite of your thing. Maybe I'm a little worried that you've gotten yourself in over your head with her and don't know how to get out.” Buster held up a hand to hold him off. “Give it a minute. Hear me out before you bite my head off. Are you sure that you're not just seeing your sister in Meg? She took care of you, and Meg takes care of the boys. I could see how that might...”
“I didn't tell you about that for you to throw it in my face.” Train felt anger rise up from the deepest place inside of him. “And not that it's only of your business, but what I feel for Meg doesn't have shit to do with my past.” He stayed in the chair only because he knew that getting in Buster's face right now would lead to them going at it. “Where the fuck is this coming from, Buster? You turn into Dr. Fucking Phil when I wasn't looking. You want to talk about acting out of character, you're doing it right now.”
“I'm just trying to look out for you, Brother. That's all.”
“Bullshit.” The wheels in Train's mind had been turning since Buster started to speak. Finally, they stopped turning as he realized everything that Buster was saying to him probably had come straight from Monroe's mouth. “Monroe put you up to this, didn't he?”
“He's concerned about her, too. He doesn't want to see her hurt, says that she's had a rough go of it.”
Train wondered what else Monroe had said about Meg, who he'd said it to and just who he thought he was. “If he wanted to stake a claim on Meg, he had his chance to do it,” Train snarled as he rose to his feet. “She's my old lady, and he's going to learn to keep his nose out of my shit.”
“Train!” Buster called after him, but he was already out the door and down the stairs. As he'd expected, everyone was in the main room. Bones was behind the bar pouring drinks. Everyone else was hanging around. Claire, Chastity and two new pass-arounds were working the crowd. As usual, his brothers seemed to be enjoying the attention. Train scanned the crowd until he saw Monroe standing near the front door.
“Monroe!” Train called him out from the bottom of the stairs. “You got something that you want to say to me?” He closed the distance between them and got right in Monroe's face. “Because if you do, be a man about it, don't go behind my back like a gossiping little bitch.”
“You already know how I feel about you and Meg,” Monroe answered without backing down. Instead he met Train's eyes. “I've known her a long time. She's one of the good ones. After all the shit she's been through, the last thing that she needs is to get hurt when you get bored with her.”
Train found the entire speech particularly insulting, so the only response he had was his fist, rings and all, in Monroe's face. Someone in the background let out what sounded like a war cry. No one would interfere, but they'd enjoy the show. He fully intended to give them one.
Monroe seemed dazed as he threw a return punch. Train dodged it, sent his fist into the other man's gut. He followed up with another hit to the face. Train wanted blood. Monroe had earned this beat-down by over and over again pushing his nose where it didn't belong when it came to Meg. Monroe's next punch landed, and the battle was on. Things went downhill from there, they hit the wall and Train knew he'd have to replace some of the sheet rock.
Train barely managed to keep his balance as they ricocheted away from the wall. Monroe landed a punch to his ribs that made him suck in a deep breath. The pain only fueled the rage consuming him. His next hit caused blood to bloom from Monroe's nose.
“STAND DOWN!” Buster called out. “That's enough
.” Train stopped because he knew that if he didn't, his brothers would pull him off and because he knew Buster was right. Monroe had had enough. He was bleeding from his mouth as well as his nose. “You two good now?”
“I'm good.” Train reached out to shake Monroe's hand, even though his hand was covered in blood. Monroe took it without hesitation. They'd stay good as long as Monroe remembered his place and kept his nose where it belonged. If he stepped over the line again, the next beating would not end just because there was a little blood.
All That Matters (Nightshade MC Book 3) Page 17
