Her eyes gloss over with tears. “You have no idea what it feels like to be pushed away by you. The pain it causes me to fight for you and us over and over again. It’s happened so many times, and I can’t do it anymore. I’m defeated, and it hurts. It always hurts, and I’m tired of finding myself in the fetal position, crying my eyes out in the shower while I try to find a way to move forward. I can’t do it again. I won’t make it.”
The damage he caused doesn’t seem as repairable as it did fifteen minutes ago. He broke her too much, and he can’t fix it. “Please, Lex, don’t push me away. Don’t lose your faith in me. It’s the only thing that keeps me going when I don’t think I can. I can’t accept you’ve given up on me. Please, baby, please.”
“Colt-”
Falling to his knees, he looks up at her in pure desperation. “Don’t give up on us. We can come back from this. Our family can come back together.”
Her body shakes as she sobs and steps backwards until her back hits the wall, and she slides down to sit on the floor. “I can’t. I can’t.”
The harsh reality slaps him in the face, and he hates himself. This is what she must’ve felt like that last night he was home. When she begged him, on her knees, to stay for a fucking weekend. To be a family and spend time with his family for two days. Two goddamned days. He was cold and unfeeling when their positions were swapped, but she feels the same pain as he does. Even more because she knows this hurts him.
“I understand,” he chokes and somehow manages to stand. He slips on his clothes and runs his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go get some air, but I’ll be here in case anyone comes back.”
She nods, and he looks back at her one last time before walking out of the room that belongs to his wife. The room he’ll never be welcome in again, and he can’t breathe. His entire life just ended, and it’s all his fault.
Chapter 25
Black Valley
Psycho
Psycho holds the door to the clubhouse open for Lacey the morning after Shep’s wedding. Everyone already awake and inside shocks him. Then again, it’s not overly surprising considering the shit show the wedding turned into with the Slashers making a surprise appearance in Griffin’s Beach. Until last night, they stayed in Black Valley.
He walks into the Chapel, and it takes all of thirty seconds after the door shuts for all hell to break loose.
“This can’t continue!” Ian shouts, his hand slamming on the table. “We thought we’d taken care of it, but they’ve gone too far!”
“Take out the whole fucking club,” West Cross offers with a shrug of one shoulder. As one of the Army Five, Psycho didn’t think he’d like the man. Standing at six foot five and with his background as a specialized officer, he’s proven to be a solid addition to the club. Plus, the man remains quiet most of the time, which Psycho appreciates. It’s usually the quiet ones who are the deadliest.
Derek Lee shakes his head. “I like where you’re going with that, but they’re one of the largest clubs out there. International. We can’t take out the entire club.”
“Repeat what we did to the Devil’s Advocates. Psycho led that charge to take out charter after charter until the mother charter’s president called begging for a truce,” Creeper says and looks around. “You don’t have to take out an entire club to completely immobilize them.”
Psycho smirks. He remembers well running around with Tripp, killing every Devil in sight after they kidnapped Avery, lit her on fire, and drove her over the cliff. They thought she was dead for an entire year, and in that year, they took out five charters before they begged for mercy. He looks back on those days like most look back on their childhoods. Fondly.
“Let’s just blow up their fucking clubhouse,” Tito Walker says. “Set them all ablaze.”
“What if they have others inside?” Creeper asks. “You can’t just blow up a building that might have women and children in it.”
Knuckles, a man who looks like he’d be a better fit as a linebacker for an NFL team rather than an outlaw biker, crosses his arms over his large chest. “I’m all for an eye for an eye.”
“Are you serious?” West asks, his eyes wide. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“We need to show them we’re serious and done taking their shit,” Fox Simpson says.
Psycho stares at the former Sergeant at Arms. No wonder he stepped down. He’s a fucking joke. “You better be blowing smoke.”
“It’s not ideal, but if we’re throwing ideas out there, I think it’s a valid one.”
Waylon shakes his head. “No.”
“No?” Chicago asks, his eyebrows raised. “You suddenly get the Pres patch I’m not aware of?”
His fist hits the table, and his eye twitches while the vein on his temple throbs. Psycho’s never seen Waylon this angry. “We’re not gonna risk killing innocent people and say ‘oh well’ when it comes to light. That’s not how the Drifters have ever operated, and we never will.”
“This is a new generation of Drifters,” Knuckles says with a smirk. “We’re former Phoenix Rising, so we don’t adhere to the Drifters past like you do.”
Waylon chuckles. “No, you were a dying club we came in and rescued by patching over. Your ways clearly didn’t work, so don’t fucking play that shit with us.”