We head inside, and the two newcomers flank me like they’re my security detail in a dangerous situation. It feels nice, like I can relax and someone else will do the worrying.
Better not get used to it, my Mom’s voice rings in my head. I sigh.
I’m suddenly overcome with overwhelming, bone-deep fatigue. I just want it to be over. My relationship, this club, these people, my job, everything. I want to be at home with my son, doing nothing, going nowhere, seeing no one.
Help Hawk.
Heal.
Everything else.
I pick a large leather armchair where I can be comfortable with DJ in my lap. Squid drags a chair over and sits across from me. Uncle stands behind him, and Prez and Truck sit down on the couch to my right.
Dylan stands next to the armchair, on my left.
“Do you want me to take him?” He gestures to our son.
My body is twisted away from him, and both my arms are curled around DJ.
“No, thanks,” I reply without looking at him.
I wonder what we look like to Squid, who clears his throat and puts his forearms on his thighs.
He’s wearing a black Henley under his cut, faded jeans, and boots. His graying beard is thick, but neatly trimmed. The deep laugh lines on his face are comforting.
I wish Hawk had told me more about his brothers.
Squid’s eyes search my face. “Can you tell me where you met Hawk?”
“I was kidnapped on New Year’s Eve. The kidnappers took me to a room, and your friend was already there, tied to a chair. His mouth was bloody, and his eye was swollen shut. He told me they were keeping him there because of… some property of theirs he damaged,” I tell them carefully, and they exchange a look.
“Where were you taken from?”
“Right here, in front of the clubhouse.”
Squid raises his eyebrows at Dylan, but says nothing. I feel Prez’s stare burning a hole into the side of my head.
I pretend to examine DJ’s fingernails as I savor the thrill of embarrassing them.
“And may I ask why you were kidnapped? And more importantly, released?” Uncle asks.
Sly butts in, “That part has no bearing on your investigation. I swear on my kid,” he adds, putting his hand on his heart.
I wonder which kid he’s swearing on, Molly or Ryder.
A very angry, aggressive resentment makes its way up my throat. Both Sly and Dylan protecting this woman at the expense of everyone else just underscores how unimportant I am to them.
I look up and, behind Squid, I notice Angie eavesdropping from the bottom of the stairs.
“At first I thought that my old man here was trying to have me killed,” I say, and in my peripheral vision, I see Dylan’s head jerk towards me. “See, I had overheard Prez telling him that it was unacceptable to continue fucking his sister, Rebel, on the side like she was some cheap club pussy, and that he should dump me as soon as possible. And my old man replied that he was “working on it” and had to be careful because of custody issues.”
It feels good to get it out, to lay at least some of the blame at their feet. I hold Angie’s gaze after I say it, and she guiltily looks away. Good. For someone who cried to me more than once about Sly’s wandering dick, she sure as hell jumped on supporting her sister-in-law’s adulterous relationship.
The room is quiet for a while. Uncle and Squid seem visibly uncomfortable on my behalf, and I don’t even look at the other ones.
“Marissa,” Dylan whispers, but I shake my head and tilt my chin at Squid to continue.
“But it wasn’t your ol’ man who orchestrated it?”
