Resilient

by Gillian Archer

  A few minutes later I was driving a silent Nicole to the clubhouse. We’d gotten Nicole’s father, Bear, hogtied up in the backseat of Reb’s Audi. Emily and Jessica had untangled Brittany from Stitch’s body. Her grief-filled shrieks still vibrated in my bones. If I’d spent one more minute in that parking lot with my buddy’s lifeless body, I think I would’ve joined her. It felt like a huge part of my soul was missing when I saw Stitch lying there, not moving. I couldn’t even imagine how Brittany felt. They had twenty years together and had planned for at least twenty more. And now…

  Fuck, my eyes burned.

  I stealthily wiped at my eyes. I couldn’t give in to the grief yet. There was still too much to do.

  Axle was staying behind with Stitch. He had a buddy in the Sheriff’s Department who’d help him sort out the paperwork so that the MC or Lux wouldn’t have an issue, and Stitch could have a proper burial.

  Burial.

  Fuck, that word burned a hole in my gut. We’d been fucking around and laughing not even an hour ago, and now he was gone.

  Stitch’s death ripped a hole in my soul that I didn’t think would ever get filled. He was the one guy I could turn to no matter the situation—women problems, club drama, family issues, PTSD bullshit—and now he was gone. It was only a matter of time until the horror of tonight brought up old nightmares of things I’d seen, shit I’d done, but now I didn’t have Stitch to turn to. Now I was all on my own.

  Except for Nicole.

  I looked over at Nicole sitting in the passenger seat of my pickup. She still hadn’t said anything. She’d been silent when Emily and Jessica loaded up Brittany. Just stood there with her hands wrapped around her waist, not letting anyone near her. Hadn’t said anything since we shot her father. Was she pissed at me? At her dad? What was going on in her mind? I wanted to ask her, but I was on virgin ground here. Was there anything I could say that would make this any better?

  Before I could figure shit out, the gates to the clubhouse shone in my headlights. We were here. I waited as Bam Bam pulled the gates open and parked my truck next to Reb’s car. I pushed my door open and hopped out.

  “Bam, get over here,” I called, then waited for him to obey. “Take Nicole to Reb’s bedroom. Stand guard inside. Don’t let anyone in, and let me know if she tries anything.”

  Reb stood next to me and watched as Bam Bam helped Nicole out of the car and into the clubhouse. Once we were alone, he turned to me. “You think she’s in on this?”

  “I know she’s not. But I think she blames herself, and I’m worried…” I couldn’t even say the words out loud.

  “That she might do something to herself?” Reb filled in. “Fuck, man. You sure you’re okay letting Bam stand by her right now?”

  “I gotta be. We have work to do.” I nodded to Reb’s car where his cargo waited to be unloaded.

  “Let’s get busy then.”

  Chapter 26

  Nicole

  I knelt gasping in front of the toilet. I didn’t have anything left inside me. Nothing but the shame coating every part of me and anything I touched. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that lifeless look in Stitch’s eyes and heard Brittany’s screams. I did this. I wasn’t the one holding the gun, but I brought this horrible fucking nightmare down on everyone I loved. I could still see that smug look on Bear’s face when he thought he had us cornered. He was gonna kill every single one of us and would’ve loved every second of it.

  I pushed away from the toilet with a groan and staggered to the bedroom where a tall, blond Viking dude stood guard in front of the door leading to the rest of the clubhouse. He hadn’t said much, but I could feel his eyes on me as I paced back and forth. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I wanna see him.”

  Viking Dude blinked. “Tank?”

  “No, not Tank. The guy they have trussed up like the fucking chicken that he is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I WANNA SEE MY FATHER!” I yelled, beyond the limit of my patience. “Stop bullshitting me. I was there. I know what happened. Talk to whoever you gotta talk to, but I want. To see. My father.”

  Viking Dude’s whole demeanor changed when I said the word “father.” His earlier concern melted away and his eyes grew hard. He was just another previously potential friend that I put in my mental pile of people who hated me. Along with everyone in this building. Like Brittany. My eyes welled up with tears, and I turned away from my audience of one. She’d lost the only man she’d ever loved tonight, and that was on me. Fuck. I sniffled and swiped at my eyes.

  I jumped when Viking Dude suddenly spoke behind me. “He’s on his way.”

  I didn’t have to ask which “he” he was referring to.

  Not even a minute later, the door behind Viking Dude burst open and Tank stood in the door frame. “Visiting hours are over.”

  I didn’t know if he was talking about me or my dad, or making a joke, but I didn’t laugh. I glared at him. “I know whatever end you all have planned for us isn’t good. But I want to talk to my father before you guys toss his body in an abandoned quarry or whatever.”

  Tank crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve been watching too much TV.”

  “Are you telling me that he killed one of your best friends, your brother, and you’re just gonna let him walk away?”

  Tank stared placidly back at me. “That’s club business.”

  “Fine. I don’t give a shit. But I wanna talk to him. He’s my father. And you owe me.”

  “I owe you?” Tank looked over at Viking Dude like he just realized the guy was listening in on our conversation. “Step outside, Bam Bam.”

  “He’s fine. I’m not gonna say anything to embarrass you. I just want to talk to him, Tank. Please.”

  Tank tossed a look at Bam Bam that had him running out the door. After it clicked shut behind him, Tank took a step toward me but stopped when I shrank away. “Baby, he’s not gonna have anything to say that you want to hear. I don’t want you living the rest of your life with his shitty last words ringing in your ears.”

  “Considering my life expectancy is the same as his, what the fuck does it matter?”

  Tank blinked. “What did you just say?”

  “You have your henchman drag me in here and watch over everything I do or say. I don’t even know where the fuck my purse and phone are. Things are not looking very good in Nicole land tonight.” I winced as I heard my own petulant words. Stitch died tonight. What the hell was wrong with me? “You know what I mean. I know what’s up, so stop playing games, okay? Consider it my last request or whatever.”

  “Baby girl, no.” Tank closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around my stiff body. “No one’s gonna do shit to you. I know—we know—that you didn’t have anything to do with your dad or what he did tonight. It’s gonna be okay.”

  I pushed away from Tank and stared up at him. “No, it’s not. Because I’m responsible for what happened tonight. Dad didn’t even know about Lux. He wouldn’t have been there but for me and my fucking big mouth. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

  I covered my face with my hands as huge sobs wracked my body. I did this. Stitch was dead because of me. I couldn’t…I didn’t…Oh God. Why.

  “Baby, you can’t blame yourself. Fuck, if that’s all you did, I’m just as much to blame for Stitch’s death. I should’ve had my piece on me. We were there for official club business and I should’ve been wearing my piece. But I left it in my truck. If I had it, I could’ve ended shit before your dad even lined Stitch up in his sights. You’re not to blame for this, baby. I swear.”

  I used the heel of my hands to wipe the mix of mascara and tears off my face. “You don’t get it.” Tank opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. I need to talk to him.”

  “I think she should.” Reb’s voice cut off whatever Tank was going to say next. I jumped at the intrusion. I didn’t even know he’d opened the door. />
  “She needs closure, T. And this is her last chance to get it.”

  Tank nodded stiffly—the good little soldier that he was—and gestured to the door. I ducked under his arm and gave Reb a wide birth as I left the room. Tank matched my pace, then led the way down the hall and through another, until we reached a huge bar where several of his biker friends were gathered around to mourn their loss and probably plot some revenge. As we walked past I heard someone murmur, “There’s the piece of ass Tank sold the club out for.”

  My spine stiffened, but I kept walking. It wasn’t until three steps later that I noticed Tank wasn’t with me. I spun around just as the sound of shattering glass and flesh pounding on flesh broke out. Guys starting yelling. A few more joined the brawl, and I backed away until I felt hands rest on my shoulders. I tensed for a second, but when I saw it was Reb standing behind me, I relaxed—somewhat. My guy was still in the middle of a brawl, after all.

  “Everyone handles grief different. Some cry. Some blame themselves. Some kick ass.” Reb paused and patted my shoulder. “It’s probably best if we let them tire themselves out. Follow me.”

  I gave one last look to where Tank was currently pounding on a guy with a long goatee, then followed Reb down a different hallway. Three doors down he stopped. “A couple of things. One, I’ll be in the room with you at all times. That’s nonnegotiable. Two, he’s not pretty—a few of the guys have worked him over—so prepare yourself. And three, this is club business—what happens in this clubhouse stays here. I don’t have a problem with you now, but I won’t hesitate to move in on anyone talking about True Brothers business. We clear?”

  “Yeah. Clear.”

  “After you.” Reb opened the door to what looked like a storage room. Chairs were stacked up against one wall, a refrigerator and a chest freezer took up the opposite wall, and in the corner furthest from me was the man of the hour. My father was slumped against the wall with his hands shackled above him and his arms taking the majority of his weight as he sagged toward the wall at his back. His face was a mess of blood, swollen flesh, and missing teeth. He was almost unrecognizable.

  His left eye blinked open and the same bright blue eye as my own stared back at me. He gave a harsh, almost laugh, then winced. “Well, if it’s not my own prodigal daughter. Came to gloat over the broken body of your dear old dad?”

  I stopped with ten feet separating us. That was as close as I was comfortable getting to him at the moment. “I just want to know why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you come back? We were finally free of you. You were out a whole year, and you hadn’t come knocking at Mom’s door. She was finally dating again. Moving on. And you had to come back and fuck it all up.”

  “You think I came back for that bitter old bitch? Holy fuck. That’s the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.” My dad’s chest heaved with his harsh-sounding breath. “I came back because those fuckers screwed my club out of thousands of dollars’ worth of guns and fucked us with the goddamn Mafia. It had nothing to do with you or your mom or that bastard she tried to pass off as my son. So why don’t you go cry to your pussy of a boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to kill a bitch even if he had a full clip.”

  “Don’t need a full clip to do this.” I walked up to my father and kicked him square in the balls. Behind me, Reb groaned in shared agony.

  “Fuck, man. How are you not proud of your daughter? She’s a smart, ball-busting badass,” Reb said, just before he broke out in laughter.

  I turned around and left the room without looking at either man. Reb’s laughter was soon drowned out by the muffled thuds and grunts of what I assumed was Reb punching my father a few times. I didn’t care. They could do whatever they wanted to the bastard. He ruined my life, he ruined Brittany’s life, he ended Stitch’s life. I just wanted him to disappear.

  I waited alone in the hallway for a few moments until Tank appeared. His knuckles were bloody, his lips were swollen, and his eyes were soft and concerned.

  But I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.

  “I just want to go home.”

  Chapter 27

  Nicole

  NOVEMBER 9

  I blinked hazily as my childhood bedroom came into focus. The Lenny Kravitz poster on the wall opposite my bed clued me in. As did the black curtains and bedding. I’d been a moody, pain-in-the-ass teenager. So really not much had changed. I wallowed in my twin-size bed with its comfy sheets and soft quilt for a while. Everything felt perfect in that hazy, still-kinda-asleep phase.

  Until clarity hit and I remembered.

  Stitch. Brittany. Bear. Tank. Mom.

  It was a tough call which name hurt the most. It’d been several days, but the ache felt as strong as it did that first night Tank had grudgingly left me at my apartment. He’d said something about grabbing my purse and coming back after the meeting was over at the club, but I called a cab to take me home the second his truck turned the corner. I needed space to think shit through, and I couldn’t do that with Tank and company breathing down my neck.

  But really, there was never a safe place to hide forever.

  “Honey.” My mom knocked on my bedroom door. “Are you up? Jessica is on her way over.”

  Case in point.

  I groaned and buried my head under my pillow. My voice was muffled when I answered. “Tell her I’m sick or something.”

  The door hinges squeaked as my mom opened the door. “You have been hiding here for days, without so much as a phone call to your friends or your boyfriend or an explanation to me. Tell her yourself. I’m not lying for you.”

  “But you’ll lie for Dad?” I pushed the bedding out of my face and confronted my mom.

  My mom flinched but stared solidly back at me. “We weren’t talking about your father.”

  “Why would we? It’s the big elephant in the room that we’ve ignored my entire life. No point in starting now.”

  “Right now the elephant in the room is whatever happened to make you run back here. Why won’t you talk about it, honey?”

  Because it’s about him, I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. Like a good WASP family, minus the affluence, we never discussed him. So instead I deflected. “When Jessica comes over I’m not here. I’m not coming out of my room, and you can’t make me.”

  My mom sighed. “Okay.”

  The door closed softly behind her, and I felt as small and petulant as I ever had. I couldn’t seem to make a move without hurting or pissing off someone. I didn’t know what to do. In one stupid move I’d lost my guy and my best friends, and killed one of their husbands. I don’t think there were enough words that could convey how stupid and horrible and heartbroken I felt. So I didn’t try. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

  The next thing I knew my bedroom door squeaked open again. I sighed and rubbed at my crusty eyes. “Can’t we just leave it, Mom? I won’t ask you about Dad and you don’t ask me about—” I had to stop and clear my froggy throat. “You don’t ask me about Tank. Deal?”

  “No deal,” Jessica answered. “I’m not your mom and you can ask me anything you want about my dad. He’s a pretty boring guy, though.”

  I sat up and glared at my former friend as I mentally cursed myself for not locking my door. “What do you want?”

  Jessica’s brow wrinkled. “Seriously, Nic? I’m worried about you. We’re all worried about you. You disappeared without a word. You haven’t been home. You haven’t been to work. You’re not answering your phone.”

  “Well, then, someone needs to fill you in, because you sure as hell wouldn’t give a shit about me if you knew what happened that night.”

  “I don’t even…Are you drunk? It’s ten o’clock in the freaking morning, Nic, and you’re holed up at your mom’s house. What’s going on?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Because it’s club business? Is this about the shooter? The guy who Reb drove away with?”

  I shrugged.

  “Fine. Let�
��s put a pin in that, then. What about Brittany? How the hell could you ghost Brittany when she’s all alone now? She needs her friends around her. She needs you.”

  I’d had it. Between my mom’s pushing and Jessica’s needling and my guilt, I snapped. “BECAUSE IT’S MY FAULT! I opened my big mouth and now Brittany doesn’t have a husband. Stitch is dead because of me.”

  “Oh my God, Nic.” Jessica rushed over to the bed and smothered me with her huge breasts. “That’s not true. There’s no way it’s true.”

  I sniffled as I leaned into her embrace. It felt good to have someone’s arms around me. Even if she was too soft and didn’t smell like Tank. “It is. You weren’t there for that part.”

  “But I was there to see Brittany fall apart.” Jessica pulled back and frowned at me. “I’ve been there, helping her out with arrangements and notifying family. I have been there. Where were you?”

  I flinched at Brittany’s name. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see her sobbing as she screamed for Stitch. My heart hurt. I just couldn’t say anything in my defense. There was no defense. I didn’t deserve one.

  “I’ve been there to see Tank freak out because he can’t find you. He wouldn’t be worried about you if this was all your fault. That man loves you, and he deserves—”

  “Someone who didn’t sell out his club to the enemy. I heard the guys at the clubhouse that night, Jess. They don’t want me anywhere near them. They blame me. Once Tank comes to terms with it, he will, too. You all will.”

  “I am so tempted to slap you right now. Have you seriously been holed up here for days, not talking to anyone because you’re too busy having a little pity party? Stitch died. Brittany lost her husband. She needs you. Tank lost his best friend, his fucking mentor. He needs you. Get your head out of your ass.”

  “I just…I feel so guilty,” I whispered. I couldn’t meet Jessica’s eyes, so I concentrated on picking my cuticles like it was the most important thing on earth. “I don’t know if I can look into their eyes, knowing what I did, and not feel like I’m being flayed alive. I’m not that strong.”