I was pretty sure one of the other SUVs had corpses in the back seat, so they’d grabbed their dead men. Yikes.
I closed my eyes but didn’t see what choice I had, so I walked forward and allowed the huge man with the gun to shove me into the back. “This is not my fucking day.”
13
ROOK
Jake laid a thin layer of adhesive film over my new tattoo. He’d done amazing work, the text I’d asked him to ink a beautiful swirly font that gave it a whimsical feel. I didn’t know if PD would enjoy it, but I hoped he would. Controlling my anger was difficult, but it was no excuse. I had to train myself, especially around people I loved.
I sighed and rubbed my cheek.Fuck. I needed to do some serious apologizing. While I’d gone to a physical therapist, it’d been suggested by my docs to go to a psychologist, too. I’d brushed off the idea. Who needed that shit? But apparently, I did. If I couldn’t control my outbursts, then maybe I needed someone to teach me how. My brain had changed and I needed to do something new.
“There.” Jake stood from his rolling chair, stretching his back as he gave me a grin. “All done. Wasn’t it worth the time we spent picking it all out?”
I nodded and rose, staring down at my new tattoo before grabbing my shirt and yanking it over my head. My cut wenton next, and the new ink pulled slightly at my skin, making me wince. “It’s awesome, dude. Thanks.”
Jake carded his fingers through his dark hair and a ring on his left hand gleamed. I knew he was married, but there was an extra piece of jewelry alongside his other gold ring. This one was made from the same metal, but on it were three diamonds. It wasn’t hard for me to figure out why. Jake had a husband, Declan, but a few years into their marriage, they’d brought a third man into their relationship when they both fell in love with him. Now they were all together.
I pointed at the new ring. “Is that from Logan?”
Jake glanced down, his face turning all soft and loving. “Yeah. Legally, we can’t marry him, which is fucking stupid, but he’s our husband, despite what the law says. We had a private ceremony and shared vows with him.”
My heart twinged. That was what I wanted with PD—happiness and commitment. If I stopped shoving my foot in my mouth, maybe I’d get that. Instead, I was a walking disaster. He was better off without me, but I was too stubborn to let him go now that I had him. How long would it take before he decided he’d had enough of my mood swings?
“Congratulations,” I murmured, and Jake smiled wider as he led me to the cash register. I tapped my card when the machine was ready and gave him a tip, too. “Do you think PD will be back?”
Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he yanked his phone from his pocket. “He normally checks in by now if he plans to close up himself.”
The door slammed open, and I turned, ready to greet PD, but I paused in surprise at the sight of Mom. She came storming inside, her shoes stomping on the floor louder than an elephant charging an enemy. When the woman had something in herhead, nothing would get in her way. Apparently, I’d held off calling her for too long.
As soon as she caught sight of me, her eyes narrowed and she stalked toward me, raising her finger to poke me in the chest in the way she always used to, but when she got close, she hesitated and dropped her hand.
“William John Gardner!” She slapped her hands on her hips, jaw tightening. She was as bright as usual in her favorite yellow overalls. “Why haven’t you called me? Your own mother! I’ve been sick with worry.”
I glanced at Jake in embarrassment, but he was already withdrawing, his lips pressed together as though holding in a laugh. My cheeks warmed. Fuck. Mom knew how to make a show for everyone to enjoy, and I happened to always get caught in it.
“Mom, stop.” I groaned.
“I will not.” She stamped her foot and her eyebrows furrowed. “How could you not call me?” Her bottom lip wobbled, and I saw tears coming if I didn’t cut her off fast.
“Mom, I’mfine.” I glanced at Jake again, but he’d retreated to his workstation to give us privacy—not that we could get any with how loud Mom talked. “Can you stop? Fuck. This is why I don’t call. It’s all dramatics with you.”
Her eyes widened and the tears spilled.
I sighed and stepped forward, laying my hands on her shoulders. She was so much shorter than me. “Mom, don’t cry.”
“You’re all I have left,” she sobbed, blobs of tears escaping and sliding down her reddened cheeks. “Your dad—” She buried her face in her palms, weeping.
Guilt churned in my stomach, and I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and bringing her against my chest carefully. We lost my dad when I was twelve. He was killed in a motorcycle accident, and it was through himI’d found my love for bikes. He’d been in a motorcycle club back in Erie, where Mom currently lived. I’d moved to New Gothenburg for college and toget awayfrom Mom.
“I know.” I brushed my hand over the back of her head, stroking her hair comfortingly. Sometimes it felt like I was the parent. “It’s okay. I’m alive, all right? PD’s been taking care of me.”
“PD!” She snorted and shoved away from me, eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms. “He’s keeping you from me. I know he is. I told him so, too.”
Surprise battered me into taking a step back. “You talked to him?”
“Of course I did.” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I went to your house first. Told him what I thought about him, too. He had a backpack and was ready to leave. How is that looking after you?”
“Leave?” My breath caught and it took every inch of my effort to exhale. Panic built beside anxiety, and my hands began to shake. “He was leaving the house?”
