“You okay?”
“Fine,” he mutters, taking a step backward. My hand falls from his cheek to his chest and that’s when I notice his vice president patch is missing from his kutte. His eyes follow mine and he closes his hand around my wrist.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” he says.
Before I can question him any further, Nico steps beside me and goes to slide into the back seat. Blackie reaches around me and grabs him by the back of his kutte.
“Sit in the front,” he growls.
“Are you sure? I’m used to riding bitch, it’s kind of my thing. You know, part of the job description and all—”
“Sit the fuck in the front, Nico, before I shove your ass in the fucking trunk.”
Widening his eyes, Nico obliges and moves around us to climb into the truck beside Bianci. Blackie grabs my hand and ushers me into the car before sliding in next to me.
“Blackie,” I whisper once he shuts the door.
“I’m not in the mood, Lace.”
Well…
Okay, then.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Blackie
On the way back to the cabin, I rehearsed everything I planned on telling Lacey, deciding to lead with how I dropped the gun. After that, I’d go on to tell her about the charges the DA was planning on bringing against me and how I handed in my patch, prepared to turn myself in and fight the case. Once I was finished exposing myself as the fool and sharing my guilt with her, I’d regretfully break the news regarding Jack’s decision. Knowing how tight Lacey and her father were, it was safe to assume she’d be devastated and in her fragile state of mind I feared her reaction. Therefore, I figured it would be best to wait until we got home before I sprung any of this on her. What I hadn’t anticipated was finding her and Nico sleeping on the fucking couch with that godforsaken movie playing in front of them. At the sight of them, anger rolled through me in waves. If I had my fucking gun, I probably would’ve shot the little shit right in the dick. Instead, I tore my eyes away from them and focused on the movie they were watching and cursed that fucking Cooper guy from here to kingdom come.
It didn’t help matters any that the scene playing on the screen was of some twerp telling Cooper’s character how much he fucked up his woman’s life. I plopped my ass on the coffee table and as painful as it was to watch, I couldn’t look away. It was like a car crash and as soon as the character took one final look at the woman he loved, I predicted how the movie would end. Not because it was a cliché but rather because the acting was that good. I could tell you what the character felt and thought because they were all things I’ve felt and thought myself and when he stumbled out of his truck and made his way to the garage, I bowed my head. If I was a guy who wore hats, I probably would’ve tipped mine in appreciation to the fictional character for being so fucking selfless. For having the guts to do what I never could.
I don’t know what made me finally lose interest. I think it was watching the surviving characters mourn him. The way his wife fell apart was just too much. For a brief second, I pictured Lacey sitting there crying, wishing there was something she could’ve done. Something different she might’ve tried. I had no doubt she would react the same, but like Cooper’s character I was also able to see the silver lining. The world would keep moving without him and as time went on, she’d somehow heal. Free from the chains that bound her to the man who clipped her wings, she would no longer live to clean up his mess. She could live the life she was born to and soar.
There was one difference between Cooper’s onscreen wife and mine though, Lacey was pregnant and for that reason, and that reason only, I forced the suicidal thoughts out of my head. Pulling myself together, I turned when she called my name and even though I tried to fight it, I couldn’t help but look at her and Nico on that couch and wonder if she was better off with someone like him. Someone her own age without a shitload of fucking problems. Someone her old man didn’t need to fucking save.
As quickly as the thought entered my mind, it fled the moment my eyes landed on Nico. Oblivious to the world, he stretched his body and yawned. A guy like him wouldn’t know the first thing about keeping Lacey happy. He wouldn’t know how to love her right or have the patience to ride the highs and lows of her illness and he sure as hell wouldn’t know how to fuck her properly. Keeping all that in mind, I still decided to harbor resentment for the little asshole who spent the greater part of the day drooling on my wife’s shoulder while I prepared a fucking monologue on how to tell her Jack was going to prison.
With Nico tucked in the front seat playing DJ beside Bianci, I took Lacey’s hand and traced my thumb over her wedding bands. She scooted closer to me and wrapped her arm around my middle. I expected her to press me on my foul mood, but she surprised me with comfortable silence and soon she was asleep on my shoulder—where she fucking belonged. I must’ve dosed off myself because the next thing I knew, Bianci was shaking me, ordering me to get the fuck out of his car.
There was a blue and white patrol car parked across the street from my house just like Jack said there would be and because I had no fucking luck whatsoever, it was also the first thing Lacey noticed. So much for procrastinating. The second we got in the house the questions started flying out of her mouth. Now here, I am pacing the living room trying to remember everything I planned to say to her.
“I thought you said it was safe to come home,” she says, peering out the window. “They’re still outside.”
“They’re going to be there for a while,” I tell her, releasing a ragged breath.
Dropping the curtain, her eyes flit to mine and her composure seemingly crumbles as the silence stretches between us. There is no easy way to ever tell your woman you fucked up and these days it seems as if that’s all I’m telling Lacey. I’ve run out of ways to address all the problems I’ve created and the monologue I rehearsed earlier, ain’t gonna cut it either. With no other choice, I gotta fly without a script and hope she don’t fucking hate me afterwards or worse go off the rails.
“Lacey, come sit down,” I say as I reach behind me and squeeze the back of my neck.
Sensing the tension and hearing the unease in my voice, she cautiously crosses the room.
“If I have to sit down for you to tell me why there are cops camping out across the street, it’s safe to assume I’m not going to like anything you have to say, am I?” she questions, taking a seat on the couch. Looking at me expectantly, her fingers curl against the denim covering her thighs. I can tell by the distant look in her brown eyes that her maker might be calling to her. If I had to guess, the vile bitch is filling her pretty little head with all kinds of grim thoughts, probably telling her I hit the bottle or ripped a line.
“No, you’re not,” I rasp, dropping my ass onto the coffee table. Leaning my elbows on my knees, I continue to stare at her. Being Jack’s daughter has always made Lacey an easy target. Once she became my wife, well, she became a goddamn bullseye and therefore I rarely discussed club business with her. Now, I have no choice and don’t know where the fuck to begin.
Deciding to go with the first thing that comes to mind, I begin to recap what she already knows.