I nod even though he can’t see me. Blowing out a breath, I hang up without another word; I’m not sure my voice will hold if I do speak.
Georgia-Rae places four glasses of whiskey on the table and then places the remainder of the bottle next to the Prez. She gives me a sad smile and places a kiss on my cheek before leaving and closing the door behind her.
I stare at the glass for a second or two before grabbing it and downing the contents. The liquid leaves a burning trail down my throat, and I hold out the glass for Nitro to refill it desperate for something to numb the pain. He picks up the bottle and pours me another glass.
Nitro and Ice down their glasses before Nitro refills them. Tongue, however just swirls his glass, watching the liquid roll around the glass. We sit in silence for about twenty minutesbefore Tongue pushes his chair back. He downs his glass and then slams it onto the table and then glares at me. “Go get her,” he tells me before leaving the room.
“You have two options brother.” I turn to face Nitro. “Do what he says and go get her. Or, give her space and see if she comes back.”
“When does she leave?” I ask, my voice quiet, heavy.
He shakes his head at me, “She’s already gone, man. They were on the road about forty minutes before you got back.”
I look at him. “The Newcastle boys?” I question, wondering if she’s travelling up with them.
He nods. “Yeah. I’ve sent the prospect with her too. Juggler will make space for him for as long as needed.”
I’m grateful that the prospect is with her, I know she trusts him. But I also know that she trusts the Newcastle boys. She’s known them longer than I’ve known her. I wish I was with her, but I have to trust she made the decision for her. I stand from the table and head out of Church. I grab my phone from the locker and take a seat at the table in the corner and type out a message.
Me – I feel like I’m meant to say that I understand your decision. But I don’t. I know what I said, what I did was uncalled for. I was wrong. I’m paying for that mistake now.
I hit send, but then realise I’m not done.
Me – Please let me know when you get there. I love you firecracker.
There’s so much more that I want to say to her, but I refuse to do it in a text message. I stand from the table to see my brothers watching me. I turn to Nitro. “Prez, I’m sorry. I need to go.”
He smirks at me, and I’m thrown. I shouldn’t be leaving, not now; we’ve got so much shit going on. He should be telling me no; he should be telling me I need to make the club a priority but he’s standing there with a fucking smile on his face. He juts his chin in the direction of the door, and I turn to find my saddle bags on the floor by the door. “Candy packed your shit. Go get your girl and bring her home.”
Chapter
Fifty-Two
My head is pounding, and my eyes feel like they are full of grit. I think I managed a grand total of two hours of sleep last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I was taken back to that room. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there trying to fight them off as they hold me down, and he rapes me.
I look across the breakfast table at my dad and Dylan, the prospect. He came with me to Newcastle. According to Nitro, the kid asked to come with me to make sure that I was safe. I know he feels guilty about what happened. I heard him and my father talking last night as they sat outside my bedroom door after I woke them, screaming, and they both came running into my room thinking I was being attacked.
My dad even tried reasoning with him, telling him that what happened to me was not on him, but he thinks he did the wrong thing leaving. He’s beating himself up, thinking he should have known better about the text from Wrath’s phone telling him to leave me. He thinks that he should have realised that Wrath would never have sent that.
As he made breakfast this morning for us all, I tried to tell him that I had overheard them, that my dad was right, that none of this was his fault, and that he just wouldn’t believe me.He told me that he transferred to the Newcastle chapter but has been given permission to stay off-site of the clubhouse so he can stay here with me. When we got back two days ago, I found him outside in my car, sleeping or trying to. The kid is six foot one, and I own a bloody Mini. I made my dad tell him he had to stay in the house or he had to head to the clubhouse. We weren’t prepared to let him sleep outside. After he made a couple of phone calls, I’m assuming, to Juggler and Nitro, he reluctantly came inside. Mind, given how tired he looks right now, I think he might prefer being in the car.
“Hey, Dad, Dylan.” They book look over at me, the worry clearly evident. “I’m so sorry that I’m keeping you guys up all the time.”
My dad gets up and comes around to my side of the table. “Sweetheart. I don’t want you to apologise for anything. You’ve been through something traumatic; the only thing I care about is you and how you’re doing. I don’t want you to worry about anything else, ok? Do you hear me?” It’s not a question. I know he’s only telling me this because he doesn’t want me to worry about them. But he also knows me well enough to know that I will always worry about the fact that they aren’t sleeping because of me. I take a deep breath and let it out.
“But—”
“Your dad is right. Your comfort and safety are all the matters right now.” Dylan gets up from the table and begins to clear it. I stand to help him but stop when I hear the rumble of multiple bikes. I look from him to my dad and then turn to the door when it opens.
My shoulders sag when I see Griff and Juggler, walk through the door with Steph. She smiles and pushes past the guys, wrapping me in a hug before dragging me upstairs away from the others.
The moment she closes my bedroom door she turns to face me.
“Wanna explain to me why you’ve come running home?”
I’m thrown by her question so much that I laugh. She raises her eyebrow at me as we both take a seat on my unmade bed.
“It was for the best,” I tell her, but even I’m not convinced by my own tone. She doesn’t say anything; she just sits there in silence, watching me, waiting for a better answer. I hate this, I hate that she knows me well enough to know that there’s more to it. Several minutes pass and I can’t take it anymore.
