“What’s the point? If bad things happen, they’ll happen and I’ll deal with it. If I worry all the time, I won’t have any room for happiness, and I really,reallywant to be happy.”
I want that too. Not just for me, but for her and Dorothea. Sometimes I want to tell her how fucked up my life was before I met her, but I don’t want to dump all that shit on her, especially because my need to get drunk and lose myself in sex is nothing compared to what she went through. In the grand scheme of things, none of that shit matters either. Because she’s right. Whyworry about what happened and what could happen when I’m happy now?
Nothing matters but today and the future we’re going to build—thegoodfuture.
But I am still going to hold all those Iron pricks responsible for what they did to my angel. And the first one I’m going after is Gunner, because there’s no way in fuck, he’s coming for my little girl. Ever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Grizz
The next few weeks go by in a fog. I hardly get any sleep because Dorothea wakes up at all hours of the night to feed. Anastacia tells me to go back to sleep, but if she’s awake, then I’ll be awake too. It’s not fair that she’s the only one to be sleep-deprived.
Problem is, she can sleep during the day, or whenever Dorothea does. I’m at the club during the day dealing with bullshit. Of course, I don’t tell her that, I just fucking deal with it.
But it’s the fall, and it’s busy as hell, with a ton of shit to do because Prez is putting more shit on us. It’s Snapper’s responsibility to plan all that shit, and because more is being dumped on him, he dumps it all on us but with extra attitude.
First it was Community Day, which went over well, despite being thrown together quickly and us never having done one before. Anastacia came with me, and we brought Dorothea. Itwas the first big event we went to, the first time she really left the house outside of the doctor’s, and I was worried she wouldn’t do well, but my girl was amazing. She talked to everyone, was friendly and seemed so happy to be out of the house. When we got back home, she was glowing. More than I’d ever seen her before. I realized how much being in this house all day isn’t good for her, so I told her we need to go out more often, even if it’s to the diner for dinner or a drive down the road.
Her moods have been all over the place, and though I’m not blaming her or mad about it, it is confusing me a little. Snapper said it’s because she just had a baby, and I’m sure that’s probably true, but things were fucking perfect for a while, and now sometimes I feel like she doesn’t want me around.
She always tells me she’s okay, and that nothing is wrong, but I have a feeling something is going on. I just don’t know what to do to help her. She’s always smiling though, always playing with the baby and giving her all the attention. We sleep together every night, Dorothea by our bed in her bassinet. It feels so fucking good to have a family like this, even if it isn’t exactly the way it is for other people. This is what we have, and I love it.
Maybe all these concerns are from me being tired as fuck, and if I’m feeling like this, maybe she’s just tired too. I mean, she has to be. We barely get any sleep at all. Maybe when Dorothea gets a little older and sleeps better, it’ll be easier.
Or maybe I’m just making shit up and worrying over nothing because I don’t want to lose this.
The cold is starting to set in. The mornings are crisp, but the days are still warm. I’m up early, as I usually am. I can never get back to sleep after Dorothea’s five a.m. feeding. Anastacia, on the other hand, never has a problem going back to sleep.
“Morning.” My brother’s deep voice startles me, and coffee spills over the top of my too-full mug. “Fuck, you good?” he says with a chuckle.
“Just tired.”
“Babies do that,” he says, walking over to pour his own cup of coffee. “You going to the club today?”
“Sure am,” I say. “You gonna come with me?”
He turns to face me, leaning a hip against the counter. “I don’t know.”
I pull out a chair at the small kitchen table to sit, carefully placing my coffee down. We have a full dining room, but no one ever uses it. Shit’s too fancy.
“Probably for the best,” I mutter.
Tommy raises a brow. “You’ve been begging me to go every day.”
“Begging is a stretch.” I sip my coffee, then add, “I just meant shit at the club has been rough.”
“Isn’t that part of being in a club?” He takes the seat across from me.
“Tension is high, especially around Prez. There’s some shit going on this weekend. And I just… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel the way it did. Like when Pops was around.”
He nods as if he understands, even though he doesn’t. He was never here, always took his own path. He didn’t grow up in the club like I did. He went to the other side of the law—the right side, I suppose. Maybe not. I hear a lot of those cops are crooked as fuck.
“What kind of shit is going on this weekend?” he asks.
“I shouldn’t be talking about it.”
“Because I’m not patched in?”
