Heavy broken gasps were spilling out, as tears poured down my face, and I gripped my head in anguish. I was losing it. I was losing my fucking mind, and it wasn’t something I should be doing. I wasn’t the fucking victim, or survivor, and it wasn’t my right to lose it, but here I fucking am, right?
“R… Rocket? Oh, baby.” I dimly heard movement, as I buried my face against my knees, and heard a slamming door, and then she was beside me. V wrapped her arms around me, holding me as I did the pussy thing, and cried my fucking eyes out. What a shameful display of fucking weakness, and all in front of the strongest woman I’d ever met.
V
Ididn’t recognise thesound that had woken me at first, but to see poor Rocket, in a childlike pose, sobbing his heart out, was devastating. How the hell did he even get back here, I mean, did he ride that damn motorbike while he was losing his shit? I wished I hadn’t fallen asleep, so I could have been here for him sooner.
I held him tight, his body wracked with grief for his brother, and all I could do was wait him out. Let him purge it all from his system, and come out the other side. He’d be beating himself up for letting me see this, but I’d kick his ass for that later. For now, I let my heart break with him, my own tears soaking my cheeks, as he rode out his sorrow.
Nixie yapped a few times, watching us from the edge of the bed, but she didn’t try to make the leap, and that left me able to focus on Rocket. I rubbed his back as he started to quiet down, his breathing still ragged, and hitching.
“God… I’m such… a… pussy…”
I slapped his back instead, and he choked a little, lifting his head to glare at me through teary eyes.
“The fuck?”
“You’re not being a pussy, dickhead!”
“But I apparentlyambeing a dickhead?”
My lips twitched, which felt like a really weird thing for them to do after the horror and grief of this night.
“Yeah. Clearly.”
He leaned back, trapping my arm behind him, as he rested his head at an awkward angle against the wall.
“It’s not my fucking trauma. It’s his. Why am I being such a fucking wuss?”
I couldn’t slap his back again, so I dug my nails into his shoulder instead, and he groaned.
“You’re vicious, woman. I feel even weaker falling apart in front of someone like you.”
The fact that he saw me as strong, compared to someone like him, like his brothers, was pretty fucking amazing. It felt better than I’d realised it would, when someone saw me as something other than weak and disposable.
“You needed to let it out, Rocket, and so did I. It was a horrible, horrible night.” He rolled his eyes at me.
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
I dug my nails in again and he grinned, just a little, but it was a start.
“How was Has-Been after whatever they did was over?”
Rocket squeezed his eyes closed again, and his bottom lip trembled just a touch. Just enough to tell me his emotions were still running fucking high at the thought of his brother.
“A mess. About what you’d expect,” he finally murmured, but he wasn’t done, “but how the fuck did he rise above all that shit, and become the man he is? I fucking love the guy. He’s the most decent, genuine fucking person you could know. He’s been beside me ever since I joined Phoenix, and I miss him like hell being here. I hate that he couldn’t tell me, but I also get it. Who’d willingly tell people about that shit, right?”
I had a feeling it was the kind of thing he should be willingly telling someone, because wasn’t that how you kick start the healing process? I had no idea, but it seemed logical.
“He’ll probably need to see someone about it. Get counselling. We could look into options for him. Do you think he’d be open to it?”
Rocket smiled, turning those intense dark eyes on me, and looking a little more like the man I’d been starting to learn how to read. Thank god for that, because he’d been a shadow of him since I’d woken up.
“For a savage deadly woman, you’ve got a heart of gold, V. That fucker who let you go was the biggest idiot on the planet. Has is covered, but thanks for offering. The other chapter has a therapist living and working there. She’s Ice’s old lady. She’ll be helping him, I’m sure.”
Huh. What kind of biker club had their own therapist, right? Next he’d be telling me they had a hospital, and a vet, and all sorts.
Rocket suddenly dragged a hand over his face, sniffling a little as he tried to straighten up, probably telling himself something dumb in his head, like he had to ‘man up’ or something. I fucking hated that phrase. Man up. What the fuck is wrong with having feelings, and not bottling them up until they destroy you? If that’s being a man, I’m glad I was born without a dick.
