I’m not really sure what he’s thinking or if he’s thinking at all for that matter. He was there when I killed those two motherfuckers and by now, he’s gotta know I dropped the gun and that my prints are all over the fucking thing. I’m in no position to take the gavel. Not only am I looking at two counts of murder, but I got a kid on the way and Lacey—what the fuck is all this going to do to her?
Anthony didn’t give me time to figure any of it out let alone digest everything he dumped on me. He gave me twenty minutes to get dressed and told me he was taking me to church. When I started taking orders from a washed-up mob enforcer, I’m not sure. I went back inside the house and told Lacey I needed to tend to club business. While I was gone, Nico would stay with her and keep her company. Then I lied to her some more and promised I’d be back soon even though there was a very strong possibility I would turn myself in without so much as a goodbye.
With that burden of all my lies weighing heavily on my mind, I made my way into the kitchen and downed a handful of pills Linc left behind. I chased them with a shot of whiskey and covered my tracks by brushing my teeth afterward. I kissed Lacey goodbye and let my hand linger on her belly, sending a silent prayer up to God that I’d make my way back to her and the baby. That I wasn’t leaving Nico with more responsibility than he bargained for.
On the ride into the city, Anthony shared that Wolf had gone through great lengths to keep the cops off my tail. Anyone hunting for the Satan’s Knights knew we operated out of Pipe’s garage, therefore he and Pipe ordered Deuce, Cobra, Stryker, and Needles to choose a proxy for their vote and sent them to the garage. The rest of us would go to Staten Island, to the bar Riggs bought for the club.
Now, here we all are, in our new chapel, without our president and seated around a bunch of restaurant tables that have been pushed together. I stare at the empty chair beside me and immediately sober up. Guilt, anger, and regret rise to the surface as I pull the baseball cap Anthony gave me from my head. Shaking my long hair out, I tear my eyes away from the chair and look at the other end of the table where Wolf sits.
“With our president absent from this meeting, it seems only fair our VP calls order,” Wolf encourages, tipping his chin towards the mallet. I look at the utensil and almost laugh. Only weeks ago, I was itching to feel the damn thing in my hand and now I hate the sight of it.
“What are you waiting for, Black?” Riggs questions.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, beads of sweat spread across my forehead as I lean forward and reach for the mallet. Instead of closing my hand around the handle, I slide it down the center of the table, towards Wolf. As it hits his forearm, he lifts his head and meets my gaze.
Feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes, I comb my fingers through my hair and shake my head slightly. To them, this is the next chapter in the sordid tale of the Satan’s Knights. The mighty king has fallen and I’m the man who they’ve all entrusted to take the throne. It doesn’t matter how many times I fuck up or how many times I disappoint everyone. No crime is ever enough. I don’t know if it’s because they want to appease Jack or if no one wants the position for themselves. Either way, I’m in no shape to lead them and it’s time I abdicate myself.
The only thing that’s going to set me free from a destiny I don’t want is the truth.
“I fucked up,” I rasp, clearing my throat. “Most of you know by now that Lacey is pregnant. What you might not know is that the doctors don’t want her taking her meds during the pregnancy. Lacey hasn’t been unmedicated since she was diagnosed a manic depressive and while, I’d like to tell you all that I’m handling it, I’m not. I’ve been drinking and the day we met with the cartel I was drunk.”
I pause and look at Riggs, waiting for him to confirm but his face remains stoic. Drawing out a breath, I leave out the whole shit about the pills and continue.
“If I was straight, it wouldn’t have mattered if I was shot, I would never have dropped that gun. I’m not making excuses for it.”
It is what it is, and I realize in that moment no one looks surprised. It’s almost as if they were expecting me to fall off the wagon. With practiced control, I shrug my kutte from my shoulders and lay the worn leather on the table in front of me. Lifting my hips, I reach behind me and pull my pocket knife free. Touching the tip of the blade to my patch, I look towards the empty chair.
“I got a kid on the way and a woman on the verge of following in her father’s footsteps. On top of that, I got a case. The Feds aren’t going to magically forget the gun has my fingerprints on it and instead of running, I’ve decided to turn myself into the authorities.”
A chair scrapes across the floor, interrupting the deafening silence and I divert my attention to the source. Pipe leans over the table and fixes me with a glare.
“What about Lacey?” he barks.
Again, it’s the truth that sets me free.
Free from the guilt.
From the regret.
From the fucking shame.
From the love of my life.
“I’m no help to Lacey this way,” I admit hoarsely. “Even if they didn’t have the gun, and I wasn’t wanted for murder, I would only drag her down. I guess once an addict, always an addict.”
“And the baby?” Riggs asks. “You turn yourself in, you won’t see your kid, man.”
I also won’t have a chance to hurt him or her.
She or he won’t know my broken promises and failed attempts.
She or he won’t feel the wrath of my addictions and mistakes.
“He can’t run, Riggs,” Wolf mutters, forcing my attention to him. He looks me in the eye and when he speaks, he doesn’t just speak as a brother but as the heart of the club and a man who has his own regrets. Someone who wishes he would’ve put his children before the patch.
“But you can fight the charges. Call your sobriety coach or your sponsor, whoever you gotta call. Get yourself clean and we’ll get you a fucking team of lawyers if we have to, Black. I promise you, you don’t want to miss your child being born into this world. It’ll be your biggest regret.”
“Yeah, man,” Linc says. “Whatever we need to do, we got you. We got your back.”
They make it sound so easy.
Maybe if I wasn’t an addict, it would be easy. I would fight the good fight, maybe even win. But I am who I am, and I’ll always revert to the lifestyle that will eventually kill me. Maybe that’s why I jump in front of bullets so quickly. Maybe my subconscious knows the only way out of this life is a needle.
Running the blade of my knife through the stitches, I remove the VP patch. I drop the knife onto my kutte before fingering the patch. Lifting my head, I stare down the table.
“Even if I fight the charges, I have to turn myself in,” I relent. “I can’t keep hiding out. If I make bail, I’ll be able to work on getting clean and spend as much time with Lacey before my trial starts. I can’t serve my woman and child and serve my brothers too,” I say, tossing his patch onto the center of the table. “And I won’t vote against Jack either,” I add, pausing for a beat. My gaze finds Wolf once more and I deliver the words that have been strangling me. Two fucking words that I wish I would’ve found the courage to say years ago. Not because I think my life would be much different, but maybe I would’ve spent more time lovin’ than losin if I had.