“It’s not.”
But he didn’t say another word as the line went dead. The next five minutes, waiting for him to send me his address, were some of the tensest I had ever felt. If he didn’t respond, then who would I inform? Would I really try and go to the Black Reapers’ clubhouse and say something? That seemed like a good way to step into a hornet’s nest. Even if LeCharles was a good guy, there was no guarantee that anyone else in his club would be.
Frankly, I was only helping the Reapers because of LeCharles. I suppose Brian was a nice guy too, but there were many more that seemed to take pride in public disturbances.
Thankfully, LeCharles texted me his address. I looked around. It was an hour to closing time. Only one person had come in after the Saints, and no one had come in for over an hour and a half. I might get fired for closing early on my first night, and it wasn’t like I could justify why in this detail.
But fuck it.
No matter how much we fought, no matter how much stress being with LeCharles put me under, he was still someone who I cared about. So much so, in fact, a stronger word might be apt for how I felt about him.
But the only thing that mattered was I cared enough to head over for him. So, without a second thought, I closed up shop, got in my car, and sped over to LeCharles’ house.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that if he didn’t listen to me, a lot of his friends would wind up dead.
Axle
Iwasn’t even sure why I bought the beer.
Maybe I just wanted the option to act like a shithead. Maybe I just wanted to say I’d done something to “treat myself” after everything from the previous couple of days.
But really, I was too old to be doing shit like that. As soon as I got home, I had half a beer before wondering what the fuck I was trying to do. Drinking wouldn’t solve my problems. It wouldn’t even make me forget about them. I’d done this routine too many times and become too wise to pretend I’d find some temporary nirvana through the bottle. It would just make me even more miserable.
I had to confront the people who had actually put me in this state. I had to confront myself for inciting things with certain people.
And my first chance, apparently, would come tonight with Rose.
Truth be told, I had no idea that she was going to be working at Bottle Revolution. I was not ready for that, and for that reason, I avoided her like the plague when I walked in. That feeling of avoidance lingered when I got home and she texted me. It was only when she called me that I felt like she was trying to speak to me for a real reason, but even then, I had my defenses up.
It was only when she walked in and got right to the point that I understood I had to truly listen.
“The Fallen Saints came to the store right after you did.”
“Fucking Christ, seriously?” I growled. “The same assholes that tried to take you at Brewskis?”
My vision narrowed. Anger was taking over me so much that if I didn’t unleash it on something, I was going to be a one-man brigade against the Saints.
“And I think they’re planning a major assault on the Black Reapers tomorrow night,” she said. “If you don’t tell them or get them rallied, I think they’re going to get hurt badly. Maybe even destroyed.”
And just like that, my anger faded.
Not because I realized I needed to help. But because instead of anger, I just felt sorrow.
“Well, let them,” I said. “That’s their battle to fight.”
“LeCharles?” Rose said.
“I got into a fight with one of the members. It got pretty bad. Whatever damage you see to my face is because of them. I... I don’t want to deal with them anymore.”
Rose sighed. And then she did something that she had never done before.
She grabbed my shoulders and shook me.
“Hey, listen,” she said. “Fighting is part of any relationship. I didn’t realize that until after I saw you walk into Bottle Revolution, but it’s the absolute truth. The perfect relationship isn’t one where you never fight, but when you fight in either a respectful manner or in a way that allows you to hug after. We still have to learn that, but this isn’t about us right now. Whatever fight you had with the Reapers, it can be worked on. You need them, and they need you.”
What she said made sense. But my guard was still up.
“You don’t understand, Rose,” I said. “One of the guys said something racist. One of the guys who I think is being... a traitor.”
