Page 6 of Property of Riptide
Indiana pats Icer on the shoulder but follows everyone else out of the room. Once it’s cleared, Icer turns his head and opens his mouth, telling me, “Letti wants more.”
“More what, brother?” I ask him, wanting him to expand on his thoughts because I could come up with a plethora of things she may be wanting from him that he’s not ready to mentally give. His childhood, from what I know of it, was horrible. His dad got his kicks by beating his son, and I’m not talking a belt swat here and there, I’m talking full fist to his being where he suffered several broken bones. He was a brutal man. Icer wasn’t his only victim, though I have to admit even if it’s only to myself, the club was kept in the dark and my paps knew nothing of the barbaric abuse taking place behind closed doors or he would’ve put a stop to it. I have zero doubts about that because if there’s one thing he didn’t tolerate it was a bully, especially one in his ranks. And since Icer’s dad was an officer, it would’ve been nixed and there would’ve been a price to be paid.
“Of what I can’t give her,” he says, leering at me. “I’m not relationship material, Rip. Everyone knows that. I have… issues.”
“We all do, brother,” I reiterate. “Do you care about Letti?”
“Almostmore than anything,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I should make her my old lady, Rip. A woman and kids aren’t what I want. Not now. Not ever.” I don’t miss the way he emphasizes almost, but I decide not to broach on that becauseif he’s talking, I want him to get this shit off his chest, not have a therapy session with him. He doesn’t deal well with someone trying to psychoanalyze him.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, steepling my fingers and placing my elbows onto the table to stabilize myself. Getting him to admit anything is a new experience and I’m trying not to fall out of my seat from him having awillingconversation and bruising my ass from landing on it. “You treat her like she’s yours.”
“I do?” he asks, looking at me as if he doesn’t recognize me. “That’s not possible.”
“Icer, do you take her on rides on the back of your bike?”
“Yes. She likes it,” he answers.
“Let me break this down for you in simpler terms,” I tell him, raising my fingers and ticking the things I say off. “You take her out to eat. You buy her things because she told you she likes them. She comes to club events and gatherings with you. You take her out with you and Elodie whenever y’all go shopping or to the zoo, and she’s even included in y’all’s movie marathons. You ask her opinion about things and seek her guidance when you don’t know what you want to say or how you should react when someone makes you mad.”
“Holy shit. I have a girlfriend,” Icer says, his breath coming out choppy and full of panic. “What do I do? What do I do?” he asks, rocking back and forth while yanking at his braids and nearly ripping them off his scalp.
“You ride, brother,” I comment. “You hold on and see where things go. Don’t jump to conclusions and assume this will end in disaster. You and Letti arenotyour mom and dad. Things mayget bumpy, as a matter of fact I’m sure they will be, but you hold on tight because even as crazy as it is, Letti likes you just the way you are.”
“But why? I’m not nice and I don’t like people,” Icer asks, confused. “I hardly tolerate you and I’ve known you my entire life.”
“Thanks for that reminder, asshole,” I tease.
“See! Even you know I’m a dick,” he points out. “I just want to be her friend. I can’t lose her, she grounds me.”
“Which is why I think you should give her a chance, Icer. Don’t put labels on things, wait and see how it plays out. You can do this, brother.”
“Can you tell her that I don’t want to do that?” Icer asks me.
“Do what? Put a label on what y’all are?” I probe.
“Yeah. That,” he says, jabbing his finger at me.
“No. It’s not my place. Icer, you can do this. I believe in you,” I encourage him.
He huffs at me before crossing his arms over his chest in a sulking manner unlike his usual pissed off one. “Nobody’s said that to me before. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Seems like you have a lot of soul searching to do, brother,” I state. “Talk to Letti, let her know where you stand. She may be wanting more, but unless she knows where your head is at, she can’t help you through it.”
“I don’t like talking about feelings and shit,” he grumbles.
“No, you like grunting but that won’t work in this situation, Icer. You have to man up and let your balls drop,” I taunt him. “You’re gonna have to use your words.”
Icer scowls at me and grinds out through a clenched jaw, “My balls dropped before yours did, asshole.”
A smirk crosses my face when I ask him, “Are you joking with me, Icer? Letti’s better for you than you think she is. I’m rooting for her and for you. Get out of here, you need to pack up and let her know you’re hitting the road in the morning. This may be good for the both of you, it’ll give you time to screw your head on straight before you two have a heart-to-heart.”
“Whatever. You’re not my boss,” he harrumphs as he stands and starts shuffling his way toward the exit.
“Actually, I am,” I say, mocking him while pointing at my president patch that sits over my right shoulder. “Remember?”
“Screw you, Mr. President,” he calls out over his shoulder, getting in the last word.
Slayer pops his head in through the door and smirks at me. “Seems like our little boy is growing up, huh?”
