Page 3 of Wrath

“Shit.” I scrub my hand over my face when I recall a vision of her, wearing that white dress and storming toward me like she wanted me dead.

Eden was at the club.She came to the fuckin’ club!

After that I don’t remember much, there was some kinda scuffle, no doubt it was between me and Raze. I guess that’s when all the drinking started.

“Mornin’.” I hear a voice come from outside and, pulling on a pair of boxers, I head out onto the deck.

“It’s nice here. Peaceful.” Ruck looks up at me over his shoulder, and the grin he’s wearing proves he ain’t feeling as rough as I am.

“You got me home?” I check, taking the seat next to him and sliding a cigarette from the pack he holds out.

“Yeah.”

“Was I…?”

“A mess? Yep.” Lifting his chin he expels a lungful of smoke into the air. “You wanna talk about it?” He focuses on the smoke as it evaporates.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” I admit, massaging my fingers into my temple and willing my head to stop pounding.

“Well, you tried the whole gettin’ wasted thing, and the problem’s still here. I figured ya might be ready to talk it out.” Ruckus leans forward and faces me.

“Raze wouldn’t let me talk to her.” I ignore him when a whole new vision plays itself out in my head, one of my president getting in my face and telling me to let her be.

“I was happy.” Her words rattle my skull. “I was moving on.” There was so much torment in her voice, and her bright blue eyes were so full of hate that I felt it scorching me inside. “I’m supposed to be getting married, right now.”

“Did she go through with it?”

“The wedding?” Ruckus checks we’re on the same page. “Nah, she’s still at the club. Spent the night at Raze’s beach hut, according to Dev.” He hangs his arms over his knees and blows out a heavy breath.

“Look, Wrath, I don’t know wha?—”

“Save it.” I shake my head and close my eyes. “I gotta talk to her.” I go to stand up and when he grabs my arm I fix my eyes on his hand until he finds the sense to remove it.

“You can’t. You left your bike at the club,” he reminds me.

“Then you can take me, you must have driven me home in a cage last night, right?”

“No, Rocco drove the cage. I just loaded you into it and followed on my bike. Much as I like ya, brother, I ain’t quite ready for you to be my saddle slut.” He laughs to himself, but Ifind no fuckin’ humor in the fact that I’m stuck here and she’s there.

“D’ya know why she came back?” I stare at my best friend hoping he’s got some answers.

“I know as much as you do. You saw how fast Raze got her outta there. And you pretty much drank the bar dry while ya waited for him to come back… Why don’t ya grab a coffee and get a shower? I’ll ride back to the club and have someone come out here to pick you up.” Ruckus stands up from the chair and grips my shoulder. “I don’t know what happened, and I agree, you and the girl need to do some talkin’, but maybe try bein’---”

“Bein’ what?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“A little less you,” he sniggers. “The girl just ran out on her wedding, she’s clearly upset, you can’t go in all guns blazin’, treatin’ her like she’s under interrogation. Try havin’ a little patience with this one.” He taps my back before he steps onto the wharf.

“And, Wrath?” I look back over my shoulder when I hear my name.

“You got puke in your hair.” He strolls up the wharf toward his bike.

“There’s no way I puked.” I laugh at him, then after grabbing a handful of hair and sniffing, I gag when I realize that he’s fuckin’ right.

My head‘s still pounding after I’ve showered, so I shove my jeans and cut into a rucksack and stick on some running shoes and shorts. I’ve been slowly getting back into training these past few weeks. Raze and Ruckus may not think it, but I got a good chance of winning the tournament André has organized nextmonth. All I need to do is convince Raze to be my trainer again. He always knew how to get the best outta me, and I hate the fact I paid that back by giving him my worst.

I slide my fingers through the sides of my freshly washed hair and tie it up on top of my head, then taking in a lung full of salty air, I start my jog across the coastal route back to the club.

It’s just short of 6k and although I’m puffing outta my ass, by the time I reach our beach, my head’s feeling much better.

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