Page 102 of The First Cut
Ispend the week cocooned away with Evan, Hannibal, and Millie, enjoying being a mom. I’m somewhat sleep-deprived, but I’m happy. My mindset feels different now Evan is here.
I lean back on the table I’m sitting on, my feet resting on the bench as I look out at the woods at the back of the compound and enjoy the warm sun on my face. It’s forecast to rain later, but right now, there isn’t a cloud in the sky.
I hear footsteps in the gravel behind me. I tense, knowing my peace is about to be shattered. Once Redox called down to let us know that Havoc and Nevaeh were here, Hannibal had gone off to meet them. I’d left Evan and Millie with Jolene and come out here.
As stupid as it sounds, I don’t want the chaos and drama of what’s about to unfold tainting our home. Havoc can say whatever he wants to say, out here. And then when he’s gone, I can go home, love on my boy, and pretend he doesn’t exist once more.
My fight-or-flight response kicks in the closer the footsteps get, but I fight down the urge to do either and sit calmly, masking my anxiety.
The smell of vanilla hits me first before Nevaeh sits on the bench next to my feet. Wearing a short pleated gray skirt with a soft pink twinset and an honest-to-god set of pearls, she should look completely out of place here in the middle of a biker compound, yet she doesn’t. She looks regal, like the queen she is. A month ago, I’d have felt less than worthy of being in her shadow, but not now.
With that thought in mind, I steel my shoulders and hold my head high, refusing to beat myself up anymore. It’s bad enough I let others treat me like shit without doing it myself.
“I’m sorry.”
I jolt at her unexpected words. “What for? You’ve done nothing to me.”
“Didn’t I? From where I’m sitting, I’m the woman who stole your crown.”
I snort at that. “You can’t steal something that was so casually thrown away.”
“He didn’t know what Driller did to you, Lola. He thought?—”
“Don’t.” The word sounds like it’s been ripped from me. I suspected Driller had told her what he did. He probably rubbed it in her face while planning on doing the same thing to her. A month ago, I’d have felt vindicated that the truth was finally out. Now I just wish everyone would leave me the fuck alone so I can enjoy my newfound happiness.
“Don’t make excuses for Havoc. Don’t sit there and pretend that if you were in that situation, he wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail until he got the truth. He would never believe you’d betray him. I’m not sure he’d believe it even if he saw it with his own two eyes. His faith in you is absolute.
“Do you know how many times he asked me what happened? Zero times. The man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for, walked away from me with the first excuse he got and let me take the blame for it. Khan told me Havoc cheated on me, and I knew he was lying. Straight up, I one hundred percent trusted my man, but he never deserved it. I always knew I loved him more than he loved me. And for a while, I was okay with that. I just didn’t realize how little I meant to him until I saw how easy it was for him to turn his back on me. And even then, I took what Driller gave me. I took each hit, each unwanted advance and spiteful name hurled my way, because my silence protected Havoc. But what did he ever do to protect me?”
“He was in prison, Lola,” she reminds me softly. “I’m not saying it’s an excuse. I’m just explaining that it wasn’t so easy?—”
I stand up and brush down my skirt before facing her. “He might be the hero of your story, Nevaeh, but he’s the villain of mine.”
I turn to walk away and freeze when I see Havoc standing there, his hands fisted at his sides, his face a mask of fury. Before I can stop myself, I take a step back and trip on the bench. Nevaeh reaches out to catch me, but then Havoc's there with his hands around my arms. I freeze solid, the air locked in my lungs as I wait for the blow to come.
“I would never hit you, Lola. You fucking know that!” he all but roars at me.
Before I can do anything, Havoc's ripped away from me and thrown to the floor as I find myself pulled into Hannibal’s arms.
“I’ve got you, doll. Nobody is gonna hurt you. I vow it.”
The air rushes from my lungs on a sob as my hands fist the leather of his cut and hold on for dear life.
“You ever touch her again, and president or not, I will gut you,” Hannibal snarls.
I lift my head and shake it, not wanting him to get into trouble. “I’m okay,” I choke out, my breath hitching painfully as I fight to hold back my tears.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Havoc roars before he starts punching the picnic table.
I jolt with each hit until Nevaeh wraps her arms around him, and finally, he calms down. The look he gives me eviscerates my insides. But it’s not one filled with anger toward me. It’s one filled with self-loathing and condemnation. I know because it’s the same look I used to see when I looked in the mirror.
I can’t tell him it’s okay because it’s not. If it’s forgiveness he wants, he’s come to the wrong place. Maybe that makes me petty, but fuck him and the horse he rode in on. How am I supposed to forgive him when I can’t even forgive myself?
I’m supposed to be the bigger person here, right? I’m meant to forgive him, for my sake if not his, but I call bullshit. Nobody is owed my forgiveness. I’d rather take a big old pair of scissors and snip-snip the fucker from my life.
Nobody speaks for a minute. Sometimes, it’s when we need to say everything out loud that words fail us. He can’t go back and change the past, and I can’t give him absolution for his future. We’re stuck in a twisted stalemate where neither of us can win.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers to me, and God help me, I believe him. It just isn’t enough.
