Page 106 of Knot My MC
“And where’s your brother?” Her lips press into a thin line, and I start to back track. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. That was rude of me to ask.”
“No, you’re okay. It’s part of sharing the grief.” Her watery smile tells me all I need to know. “He didn’t do too well after the incident. He fell into a spiral of addiction and you can guess how the story ends. I only wish I had known what was going on sooner. Maybe if I had stopped it—”
“You know that’s a dangerous path to go down,” Lor chastises.
Monica nods. “Yup. Anyway, that’s my story. Sometimes I dream about both of them. Sometimes it’s only her except this time I’m the killer.”
“I’m so sorry.” I battle with my sympathetic tears. “I guess you know mine.” I don’t reiterate the story—I don’t think I can say it and they were briefed on the incident.
“At some point, it might help to say it out loud.” Lor takes a sip of coffee. “Part of being in the group is working through the stories together. It’s about building a safe place to do whatever we need to: mourn, cry, rage.”
“Not today.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“She’s not ready, Lor.” Monica gives me a knowing once over. “She can have some time to get used to the meeting.”
“She can have all the time she needs.” Lor nods. “I can share my story if you want. Monica knows it as well as her own by now.”
“I’ll listen to it however many times you need to say it, honeybee.” Monica grabs a donut from the table.
I take one too, needing something to do to keep from fidgeting. The chocolate frosting is soft and creamy, just as it should be and the glazed donut practically melts in my mouth.
“Right.” Lor sets the coffee tumbler aside. “I was twelve.”
Holy shit, that’s young.
“It wasn’t family, but I was somewhere I shouldn’t have been. My parents were absent—not cruel or anything, more uninterested. I got in with a bad crowd through a friend. His brother was into some bad shit. One night we were all hanging out and one thing led to another, and a fight broke out. This kid took another one down and was going in on him… and he didn’t stop until three guys hauled him off. It was too late by then.” Lor glances at the table. “I still remember the sound his fist made.”
I shudder. That’s horrifying to me and I’m an adult. Lor was only a kid. “I’m sorry.”
“Last year you couldn’t tell that story without panicking.” Monica gives me a pointed look. “Lor worked through it.”
I scoff. “Like a twelve-step program?”
“Don’t get down on AA. They know what they’re doing. But no, we don’t have any steps. What we do won’t replace therapy, but we’re here for each other, as fucked up as we may be.” Monica nudges Lor.
Lor chuckles but it’s humorless. “Speak for yourself.”
“Fuck you.” Monica shakes her head. “I know you’ll never admit it to any of your MC buddies out there, but you love me. Even Royce knows it.”
Lor’s cheeks flame. “Monica.”
“Don’t get all huffy on me. I’m only speaking facts.” Monica gives me a saucy grin. “I may not have three mates, but I have Royce and my bestie Lor.” She tips her head to the side. “And I guess maybe you too?”
“We’re totally friends. I really like you both.” I grab another donut. “Sorry for being a dick about the process. I know what you’re saying. I can’t keep it bottled up.”
“And you can’t talk to your guys or else they’ll feel guilty for doing what needed to be done,” Monica adds, seeing right through me.
“I’m not mad at them for doing it.”
“Of course you’re not.” She pours herself a fresh cup of coffee. “But no matter how much you reassure them, they’ll feel responsible for whatever goes on inside that pretty head of yours.”
She’s right. I have talked a bit with the guys, but I feel like a burden. A lot has happened in such a short amount of time, and I’m worried there’s only so much they can handle.
The door to the worn kitchen opens, revealing the guys in all their glory. Knox’s short hair is styled to perfection, that leather vest lying over his black t-shirt in the best way and those fitted jeans don’t do a damn thing to hide how powerful his legs are. Jag’s blond hair is slicked back and the scruff covering his jaw is a few days old, almost as long as Knox’s. Jag is hot without the beard, but with it he’s a walking hazard. A swath of dark hair falls across Crow’s forehead, giving him a moody, edgy vibe. His eyes cut across the room in an instant and collide with mine, stealing my breath for an entire minute. I know he’s an artist, but sometimes I wonder if it isn’t Crow who’s a work of art.
“And that’s our cue to go.” Lor snatches the tumbler from the table and stands. “Come on, Monica. Let’s go shoot some pool.”
“Maybe you’ll keep your money this time with the omega staying behind.” Monica smirks. “How about you and me take Mountain for all he’s worth?”
