“Look, what you’re dealing with is part of the package. When it hits, remind yourself why you’re still here. Why you fight. For me, it’s the brothers I’ve got now. The people I can still protect. If you look around, you’ll see you got that too.”
“The thing is, it’s hard to focus when the past keeps dragging me down,” I say, feeling the weight settle deeper. “It never lets go and I’m constantly haunted by the images from that day.”
“You’ll never change the past. But you can honor it by how you live now. You’re already doing that every time you show up for your chapter.”
“I try, but some nights... it just feels like it’s not enough.”
“On those nights, don’t try to carry it all. Write it down. Punch a bag. Hell, scream into the wind if you have to. But don’t bury it. That’ll only eat you alive.”
“Writing, huh? You do that?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s letters to the people I’ve lost. Sometimes to myself. Sometimes I burn them, sometimes I keep them. It’s not about fixing it. It’s about making peace with it.”
“Not really good at putting my thoughts down on paper but I’ll think about it.”
“Good. And remember this, it’s not about the mistakes you make, Nightmare. It’s what you choose to do after them.”
“Thanks, man. That actually helps.”
“Anytime, brother. Call me whenever you need to, and when the bad days come, lean into the Bastards. They’re your family now. They’ve got your back.”
“Guess I need to take my own advice, huh? I’m always telling myself the same thing.”
“Exactly. Now go take care of yourself. You’ve got a lot of road ahead, and you’re not walking it alone.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“No debts here, brother. Just Royal Bastards watching out for each other. Stay safe out there.”
“You too,” I say, ending the call.
Striker gave me more than I expected. He’s right. I need to lean on the guys a little more because that’s what we do when one of us is down. This guilt’s mine to carry, but I don’t have to do it alone.
I pullinto the compound just after noon. Gave myself a little time to get my head straight. Killing the engine, I grab my keys, and head inside. My head’s a war zone… loyalty on one side, friendship on the other. Duty matters, but there’s a line. If it comes down to it, Londyn will become my worst enemy. If I take out Ty, I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. Walking into the bar area, Mav’s already there, with a tumbler of whiskey and a stack of paperwork. He looks up when I walk in.
“You look like shit,” he says. It’s not an insult, just facts.
“Didn’t sleep much,” I mutter, sliding onto the stool beside him.
“Nightmares?”
“Same one as always,” I nod.
He doesn’t press. Just gestures toward the coffee pot. I pour myself a cup, let the heat settle in my hands before I speak again.
“I called Striker,” I say after a sip.
Mav raises a brow. “Yeah?”
“Like you suggested. It helped. More than I expected.”
He leans back, arms crossed. “Told you. Guy’s been through hell and came out the other side. Doesn’t bullshit.”
“No. And he didn’t try to fix me. Just gave me something to hold onto.”
Mav nods. “Good. You need that. Especially today.”
“I’m ready,” I say, meeting his eyes.
