When Cade looks at me, I tilt my head towards the hallway for him to follow.
But I don’t take him to my room.
I pass it and continue down the hallway to the door at the far end that leads outside, behind the building. Then I climb the ladder bolted to the brick, to the top of the roof.
Cade follows me without a word, and when he steps off the ladder onto the flat roof, he casually looks around. A low concrete wall rims the edges, about two feet high, making this a good spot to hide away when I need a minute alone… or when I need to get dirty with my doc when there are too many eyes and ears around.
They may be my brothers, but I wouldn’t hesitate to pull my knife on them if they walked in and saw what’s mine.
I pass Cade a beer, then head for the corner with the shell of an old chimney, and take a seat. He sits next to me, and we each silently take a drink of our beer as we look over the yard of the garage below us, with the bay doors open and the sound of laughter and chatter echoing through the space as some of the guys head back to work.
“Kurt thinks I’m the rat,” Cade says after a while.
“Not anymore,” I reply as I take a drink.
He just nods, eyes still on the yard as Rex eases a car into one of the bays.
“So…” he lifts his beer to his lips. “Maple.”
Every muscle in my body tenses at her name. I just sigh as I reach inside my cut and pull out my cigarettes.
Just when I thought I was ready to quit again.
But Cade just arches a brow and waits.
I strike the lighter, inhale deeply, and hold it until my lungs burn. Then I let the smoke spill out slowly. “She’s fucking insufferable,” I say. “Guaranteed she’s not there to look after the place. Iknowit’s because she screwed up another relationship and needs somewhere to stay. And then she’s going to blamemefor killing Mom’s plants?” I huff and take another drag, sucking it in like my life depends on it. “Christ, those poorthings probably shrivelled up and died the second she walked through the door. Nothing lives long in her shadow. She drains the life out of everything she comes into contact with, like it’s her purpose in life.”
I flick ash over the edge of the roof, my jaw clenched tight as I watch the guys work on the cars we have in today. “Yet she hates me because she thinks I killed our dad, and she’s pissed I’m still a part of the club. The same club that keeps her fed and housed as she floats between jobs and boyfriends without a care in the fucking world. We work hard, bleed, and risk everything Dad and Kurt built, all so she can fuck around. Then she shits all over me for what we do to provide for her.”
I don’t even realize how hard I’m holding my beer bottle, and I have to force myself to set it down before I break it. “And she still acts like I pulled the trigger myself. I was fifteen fucking years old. What did she think I was going to do to stop it? And I’m the one who tracked down the fucker who actually did it and put a bullet between his eyes. That wasme.” I take another drag and forcefully blow it out. “Fuck, I hate her.”
Silence hangs between us until I glance at Cade. He’s just watching me with a slight crease in his brow.
Then he lightly shrugs one shoulder. “I was more curious about the tree names.”
I let out a dry laugh and shake my head as I reach for my beer again. I take a long drink, and when I set it back down, I blow out a breath as I try to ease the fury Maple always pulls out of me.
“Mom lets nature guide her in everything she does.” My gaze drifts over the garage roof to the tree line beyond it. “I also have a younger sister named Cedar.”
Cade takes a drink and thinks on that for a moment. “So, that’s why you like trees…”
I turn my head towards him. “No, baby. I like trees because they tell the truth.”
Confusion enters his gaze for a brief moment, and I just smile at him.
“They don’t hide what they are. Some grow fast and split under pressure, while some dig in and hold their ground, even when it freezes solid. Some grow sideways to find light, and some rot from the inside out but still look whole from a distance. Trees don’t lie. But people do. Someone’s favourite tree gives me everything I need to know and tells me more than they ever will.” I glance over at him. “Mom got it all wrong on her first go, though. There’s nothing prosperous, strong, or wise about Maple. Just pretty leaves and a habit of dropping everything when the season changes.”
I turn fully towards him, letting my eyes fall to his mouth as he licks his bottom lip after taking a drink. “So, Doc…” I pause for a moment, lifting my eyes to his. “What’s your favourite tree?”
His dark blue gaze meets mine, and I see how much clearer it is now compared to this morning. He leans in, just enough to tease me.
“Don’t have one.”
My eyes narrow, and he leans back again with a faint smirk tugging at one side of his mouth.
But I can’t bring myself to be mad about that right now. Because that answer actually fits.
His world is dead branches and silence.
