Smart man. At least someone coming in the door tonight has some brains.
Mack and Ryker step up to me, both holding back laughter.
"What do you two assholes want?" I bark.
Both of them hold their hands up in surrender.
"Nothin' man, we're workin’ tonight. I'll see y'all inside." Mack opens the door, stepping inside the bar, leaving Ryker with me. I can already tell by the way he's staring at me that he's got questions.
Patron after patron, I check their identification and take their money before they disappear inside. Each time they open the door, the booming sound of the music spills out. Only when everyone is gone does Ryker open his mouth.
"What's goin' on, Hank? You're normally a teddy bear unless provoked. So who brought the grizzly out?"
Dropping down on my stool, I let out a sigh. He's as good as anyone to speak to, I guess.
"I told Vee I loved her today."
"Hell yeah, ‘bout damn time. So why are you actin’ like someone pissed in your cornflakes?" he asks as he pulls a stool from the corner and sits down beside me. “You should be celebrating, not rippin’ people’s heads off.”
"She didn't say it back. Said she couldn't. It's a load of bullshit, if you ask me."
"I mean, can you really be pissed at her for not tellin’ you the truth? Hell, I wouldn’t want a woman tellin' me she loved me if she didn't."Fuck, what he's saying is true, but it still fucking hurts.“Or if she wasn’t ready to say it. Everyone isn’t at the same time. Hell, take me and Ash for instance.”
"I guess," I tell him, running a hand over my scalp. Tiny prickles of hair have started to pop up. My mind drifts back to when Vee found pictures of me with hair and asked if I had ever thought of growing it back out. I was contemplating it for her, but I guess I can shave it now.
"Okay, I'm not a genius, but something tells me there's more to this story. Or more like a someone, like Luke. Man, Hank, you know it's common knowledge they had a thing before your accident. And I’m pretty sure it didn’t end there."
"Yeah, they did. I thought since she hadn't been with him, it was over. She was spendin’ all her time with me. Hell, I was in her bed almost every night. More so over the last couple months."
"Okay, so she likes the two of you, and you both like her. What's the problem?" Ryker just looks at me like it’s not a fucking big deal. He, of all people, should know how I feel, especially with how he treated Ash, and the reason he did.
"Because not everyone is like you and your boys. Not all of us want a relationship like that. I love Vee and the thought of her fuckin' some other guy, brother or not, makes me sick." Bile literally works its way up my throat as I speak, the vision of Luke fucking my girl filling my mind.
That reason alone is why I can't do it. There's no way I can be with her and have anger toward my brother like that. It's not good for a relationship and sure isn't fucking good for the club. Hell, Kaleb and the boys were at odds one time over Ash, and we all saw how that affected shit.
"I see it as a win, Hank. When I'm not there for Ash, one of my brothers is. She's never alone. Always satisfied, and if something were to happen to one or more of us, she's taken care of. It may not be the relationship for you, but never put down what we have as less than love." With those parting words, he stands and heads into the club, leaving me to sit alone and soak in what he had to say.
Fuck, what am I going to do?
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open my messages, going right to the thread I have with Vee.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as I debate what I want to tell her.
Me: Am I not enough for you?
Her reply is almost instantaneous.
Vee: Of course you are.
Me: Then why can't it just be us?
The bubbles dance along the screen, popping up and down, as I wait. Finally, they stop and a message comes through.
Vee: I can't help that I care about Luke the same way. We have history, Hank. I can't toss that to the side. Just like I can't toss aside how I feel about you.
Before I can even reply another message pops up.
Vee: I want both of you and I won't choose.
