“Fuck her,” Scales seethed, his fists tightening. “After what she did to you and Tess, she’s lucky I’m still with her.”
“Why are you still with her?” Zodiac questioned.
“You know why.” His voice was bitter and filled with resentment. Scales had something he was hiding from the club, and it looked like Zodiac was one of the only men who knew about it.
Zodiac nodded. “I know, but everything is going to be okay. We can get you help if you need it.”
“With what, Ulrich? A divorce?”
Zodiac shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”
“I’ve been with this woman for half my life, and you’re asking me to give up on her now?”
“Do you want to make it work?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I want right now. Actually, I just want the club to get off my ass and stop giving me ultimatums when it comes to the club and my relationship. I know what I signed up for when I joined the Celestial Sons, Ulrich, and I don’t plan on turning my back on that. But I also don’t want to turn my back on my family either.”
Zodiac patted him on the back. “I understand this is hard for you, but despite what you think, the club only wants what’s best for you.”
“Well, right now that’s you fucking letting me figure this shit out on my own.” Scales threw up his hands, picking up the pieces of his phone as he exited the room.
Zodiac sighed, returning to his place next to the bar. “The club is in shambles,” he grumbled. “The Artillery is underground and we’re still falling apart at the seams.”
“We were unraveling before the Artillery interfered,” Leo piped in. “You were just too blind to see it.”
“Well, I’m determined to fix it.”
“Good luck with that. The only fix to this impossible situation is bury yourself in alcohol like I do.” Leo took another swig, finishing off his beer. “By the end of the night I won’t remember any of this.”
Zodiac sighed, turning back to me. “Cap, do what you need to do, but if the club needs you, I expect you here. Do you understand?”
“You can count on me, Zodiac. I’ve never let the club down and I’m not about to start now.”
Zodiac clapped me on the back and smirked. “That’s what we all say before a woman does us in. Just be careful, Cap. The last thing you need right now is any more stress in your life.”
I subconsciously rubbed at my chest, knowing he was referring to the foreign heart sitting inside of my body that was keeping me alive.
“I know, Zodiac. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Before any of my brothers could say another word, I hoisted my two duffles up over my shoulder and slunk away from the clubhouse, ready to go pick up Ruby and get her recovery moving.
Ruby’s glare could be felt from across the room. The woman hated me right now, and that was perfectly okay. She could hate me all she wanted as long as she was on the right track to recovery. Her psychiatrist, Dr. Schilling was standing next to her, holding a folder I knew all too well. I’d seen countless folders like it over the last few months, but none of my clients were as far gone as Ruby, she was suffering from a catastrophic loss, one I didn’t know if I could mend.
I stopped just in front of her and smiled. “Hey, you ready?”
“Mr. Kane, Ms. Tyler…”
“Mrs. Tyler,” Ruby butted in, glaring at me. “My husband may be dead but I haven’t stopped being his wife just because he’s no longer here.” She toyed with her wedding ring, the glint of the small diamond hitting the light above it just right. I was surprised they let her wear it in here. They should’ve removed it when she was admitted.
Dr. Schilling let out a long sigh. “Mrs.Tylerhas informed me that you two don’t know each other very well, and isn’t comfortable being left in your care. I have advised her of our previous working relationships and assured her that you only have her best interest at heart. However, if Mrs. Tyler isn’t comfortable with you being… well, let’s just call you her guardian for now, until she’s successfully worked through the demons trying to drag her down, then I’m advising for a prolonged stay for her here at the hospital under my supervision until she’s deemed medically and mentally able to return home and function without having daily thoughts of suicide.”
“What? That’s not what you said a few minutes ago. You said I could go home.”
Dr. Schilling nodded. “I also said that you needed someone to be responsible for you on the outside, someone that you could talk to that would help you work through your issues.”
“I’m suffering inside. How is that a fucking issue?”
This wasn’t our first rodeo. Dr. Schilling, or Samantha as I knew her, had been working beside me for the last few months with several patients going through various degrees of grief. I wasn’t a licensed professional like she was, but I often found people were more comfortable talking to someone like me, than sitting on a couch with her. My last client, Darrius, was a man grieving the loss of his son, blaming himself for the accidental death that broke him and his wife apart. It was a hard case to swallow, because I hated seeing anyone suffering, but Darrius found me to be relatable, and we found a way for him to overcome his grief amidst all the misery he was putting himself through. He found a new love for fishing, and we used that as a way to cope and talk about what happened to his son, letting go of the guilt he was holding in. Now he’s thriving, and I still call him once a week to check on him, and go fishing with him at least twice a month.
