I wipe the vomit from my chin with the hem of the T-shirt he’d given me. I cover my mouth with my hands. The levee, the wall I’ve been building to fortify my heart, my spirit, crumbles, and just like that I fall apart completely. I don’t know how to deal with any of this. I can’t reconcile where I am from with where I was a few days ago, and where I am now. I want to see my mum. I want to hug my dad, something I can’t remember doing for the longest time.
The biker moves from the doorway. Without a word he stalks from the bathroom, through the living area and out the door, slamming it behind him. I lay down on the floor, curling into a foetal position. I thought I could give them what they wanted, and in turn, he’d help me to take the Priest out, but reliving that stuff? I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I have it in me. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face all the things I don’t remember from that warehouse of horrors.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KICK
Ihad to help. Hearing her cry like that, hearing her fall apart, and not being able to do … something. It was ripping me apart. Which is fucking ridiculous. I don’t know this girl from any other bitch on the street. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I glance up at the late-night chemist from the parking lot.
And I don’t know how the fuck I got here.
I flip the kickstand down and take off my helmet, sliding the fastened strap over the handlebars. And then I ease off the bike and head inside the chemist. It’s warm in here, chasing away the wind-chill from the cold July night. My presence is announced with an annoying fuckin’dingand I head straight for the aisle with all the shit to fix upset stomachs. I pick up some antacids, some Panadol and then hit the fridge for lemonade, snagging a bag of potato chips on the way to the register. I pay the bored-looking chick on the front counter and then head outside and hang the sack of goodies from the handlebars. I left not knowing where or why the fuck I was going, so my backpack is back at the clubhouse. It’s late, and I likely won’t come across any cops in the three blocks back to the compound anyway.
When I pull in, Tank is leaning up against the outside of the garage. I haven’t seen him since the incident with Ivy in the hall. Grim said he’d taken Ivy to his big fancy fuck-off house in the woods, which admittedly shocked the hell out of me. He’d be better off dropping her at the nearest rehab clinic and getting her into a fucking methadone program, but what the fuck could I do about it? I’m the one that left her in that fucking state in the first place, and everything I’ve done from the time I first got that bitch on her back up until the way I fucked with her in the hall has just encouraged her behaviour, given her hope for something more, when there just isn’t hope—not for me, not for her, not for us.
I take off my helmet, pull the bag from the handlebars and step out of the garage. I’m met with a flying fist, a slash of pain and a pulsing eye socket. “Ah fuck!” I stagger back, drop the bag, and hold my hand to my eye to stem the pain radiating around my whole fucking skull. “What the fuck are you doin’, cunt fuck?”
“Been dealin’ with cleaning up your shit for the last two fuckin’ days. Bitch is a goddamn mess. Won’t eat, won’t sleep, won’t even let me touch her. You fuckin’ broke her, man, and who the hell do you think gets to be the one left holdin’ the fuckin’ pieces?”
“Ivy’s not your fuckin’ responsibility. It’s not your job to step in and take my place, brother.”
“No? Who the fuck else is gonna clean up your mess and make sure the bitch doesn’t OD?”
“I don’t know, her fuckin’ family?” I say, but I know as well as he does that Ivy has no family. Only a sick son of a bitch for a dad who fucked her up so royally in the first place. “Bitch has problems beyond what you and I can fix. She needs help, and she needs away from this clubhouse.”
He shakes out his fist and throws back his head with a roar of frustration. “I wanna beat your fuckin’ head in for this.”
“Yeah? Why the fuck stop at one punch?”
“Don’t fuckin’ test me,” he warns, and scrubs a hand over his face. “I know why you did what you did. I don’t blame you for it. But I won’t lie, if you so much as talk to her in the future, if you build her up again and give her hope that something might one day happen between the two of you, I’ll put you to ground, brother.”
For a beat, all I do is stare at him. Tank, who didn’t kill me when I told him I’d shot down our entire chapter, the dude who feels nothing, is all fucking twisted up over a girl. “Fuck me, does she know your boner’s the size of fuckin’ Uluru for her? All that shit about kicking her out ’cause she’s crying all over the place? That was all you covering up some unrequited love bullshit.”
“Shut the fuck up.” He turns and stomps towards the clubhouse.
I pick up my bag of goodies and start after him. “How long you been pinin’ after that bitch, brother?”
“You breathe a word of this shit to anyone, and I’ll fuckin’ gut you in your sleep. You got me? I will put you to ground so fuckin’ fast your—”
“Jesus Christ, don’t get your fucking panties all twisted up your arse.”
He exhales loudly. “She doesn’t see me that way.”
“So fuckin’ make her see you that way, you douche. Have you never had to chase a bitch your entire life?” I ask. “Ivy’s fucked up, but she’s still a goddamn woman, and she needs that love and cherishment crap more than most. The other stuff? Hurtin’ her and all that? It’s what she’s used to. Doesn’t mean that shit can’t be broken, brother.”
“Fuck me.” He shakes his head. “Who’d have thought I’d be takin’ romantic advice from the un-fuckin’-luckiest motherfucker in love walking the face of the planet?”
“Yeah, well, I might be unlucky, and I might have made a dick-tonne of mistakes, but if you don’t come clean with her about how you feel, you’re gonna regret it.”
Tank scrubs his hands over his cropped hair and stares down at his feet. Sighing heavily, he shakes his head, and then turns to me; his game face back on. Back to being the bastard who cares for no one, and gives nothing away. The dicktard doesn’t even fucking realise that if he showed Ivy this side of himself, if he made her see that he actually fucking cared whether or not she lived or died, he’d have that bitch in the bag. She may not love him straight away, but I know her well enough to know that despite all her fucked up needs, all she really wants is someone to care the way her father never had. She’d grow to love anyone who showed a little bit of fucking interest in her. It’s why she thinks she’s in love with me.
Game face or not, he sounds tired when he says, “Prez wants to see you. He called a meeting while you were out, something about more fuckin’ mess than he can deal with right now.”
“I just gotta take this shit to Indie first.”
He shrugs as he opens the front door to the clubhouse and steps inside. “Your funeral.”
Yeah, it fuckin’ will be if he finds out I didn’t head straight to church.When Prez summons his flock, the flock better fucking haul arse, or Prez’s gonna be looking for someone’s face to bust in.