Page 46 of Blackout: Book Two

“I miss you too,” she murmurs. Silence fills the line and I become desperate for her voice. “Soon,” she adds softly. I never knew a single word could provoke so much hope in a person.

“I’ll be waiting,” I say.

Every day.

For as long as it takes.

Until the end of time.

I’ll wait.

“Thank you for sending the sonogram picture.”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Amazing isn’t even the word,” I argue, wishing I had it with me. It would’ve been nice to look at while listening to Lacey’s voice. It would’ve made me feel closer to them and not worlds apart. “We created that,” I rasp.

“I still can’t believe it,” she admits

Me neither. Having a hand in making something so beautiful is mind boggling to me. I’ll never understand why God chose me to be this baby’s father, I can only be grateful for the blessing.

“So, what about you? How are you doing? Dad and Reina told me you’re making a lot of progress.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing what rehab can do for you when you actually make an effort. My counselor is a trip, though. She rides my ass and puts me in my place.”

“Sounds like my kind of girl,” she teases.

“You’d probably love her.”

“If she helps you, there’s no doubt.”

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to tell a soul.”

“Cross my heart.”

“I’m serious, Lace, my reputation as a badass biker is at risk, here.”

I could give a fuck about my reputation or my street credit. It all means shit anyway. But that laugh she gives after I tell her that...I want more of that. So much more.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she says through a chuckle.

“She makes me meditate,” I confess. Patiently, I wait for her laugh, but it never comes.

“Does it help?” she asks instead. The question knocks me off kilter and forces me to accept that it does help me. All the things I thought I was too good for are turning out to be the things I need.

“As much as I hate to admit it, it does,” I reply. “A lot of the things I’m doing here are things I wouldn’t have been caught dead doing and yet, I’m discovering each one of them plays an important role in my recovery.”

She doesn’t say anything and a moment later I hear her sniffle.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” she lies.

“Fuck,” I hiss, tugging at the ends of my hair. “Lacey, baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“They’re happy tears, Blackie.”

I haven’t given her many of those.

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