According to the last call we made to Maria, Danny was still upset. He had woken up twice during the night, hysterical crying, asking for his mom. The plan was for Lacey to go grab him from Wolf’s, but she wanted to see Jack first. She was worried about his mental state and called his doctor, hoping Dr. Spiegel would trek it to the hospital and check in on him. Exhaustion finally kicked in and she fell asleep waiting for the doctor to return her phone call.
Choosing my words carefully, I fill him in and once I finish, he looks at me thoughtfully.
“She shouldn’t be here. She needs to rest.”
I tried to get Lacey to go home after I retained Schwartz. I didn’t want her around here when the shit hit the fan. She wasn’t going to leave her father in his time of need no matter what I said.
“I told her that, but you know her.”
“She’s stubborn as shit,” he grunts.
“I wonder where she gets it from,” I tease.
I don’t remember a time when I ever hesitated with my words when it came to Jack. Most of the time he knows what I’m going to say before I say it. Just like I always know what he’s thinking. But right now, I think we’re both off our game. I can’t figure him out and he looks too worn, too fucking tired to care about what I’m about to tell him.
“Holden called,” I begin, before rambling a bunch of nonsense neither of us really care about. Like, how many calls he’s missed, or that Grace showed up with Schwartz. I tell him about Reina and Grace conspiring to get a health care proxy drawn up and he gets angry for a minute before he realizes how desperate Reina was and how well she hid it.
His gaze wanders back to his wife and I watch as his eyes fill with tears.
“I retained Schwartz,” I say, causing him to glare at me.
“What the hell for?”
Pushing back my hair, I inform him that Nico couldn’t identify the ink. While we were all huddled in the cafeteria, before the doctors interrupted us, Needles suggested he show Nico some signature ink belonging to the cartel. Since Nico is the only one who got a good look at the men parked in front of Jack’s house, we had hoped he’d be able to match the tats. It was a stretch, but it was also the only thing Wolf was offering to do in regard to entertaining Jack’s theory.
When Nico couldn’t identify shit, that only pushed me closer to retaining Schwartz.
“I’m going to be straight with you, I’m not so sure Wolf is buying the cartel scenario.”
“I don’t give a shit what—”
“Let me talk,” I grind out, growing antsy, knowing fucking Ritzer is probably on his way to cuff me as we speak. “He’s trying to run a tight ship, keep the club clean. I respect that, but you and I know it’s a fucking pipe dream. There is always going to be something, someone, another fucking club looking to piss on our territory.”
“The nature of the beast,” he retorts.
“Yeah, well the beast ain’t ours to tame anymore,” I argue, stroking the worn leather of my vest where my rank once was displayed.
“What are you getting at?”
For years I’ve given this man my loyalty, trust, and respect and in turn, he’s given me his. Every loss and every win, we mourned and celebrated together. We fought alone and sometimes with an army, but we never gave up on one another. Now is no different.
“What’s your gut telling you, Jack?”
“You know what it’s telling me, Black. This was no fucking accident,” he, shouts, pointing towards Reina. “My wife is in that bed because those motherfuckers put her there.”
Nodding, I cross my arms.
If Javier put Reina in that hospital bed, Jack’s gonna make him fucking bleed.
“Well, then we go with your gut. Whether it’s you and me alone or with an army behind us, we follow your instinct. It’s the only lead we got.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.
“What?”
“And what if my gut is wrong? Wolf is right, Blackie. We can’t afford—”
“Your gut has got us through a lot of shit, Jack. It’s saved our asses more times than I can count.”
“It only takes one time,” he hisses, lifting his index finger between us. “One fucking time and look what happens. I shouldn’t have set up that meeting with Javier. You know it and so do I. If we’re being honest with each other, you knew my mind was all over the place and that it was a bad idea from the get go. The thing is, reservations and all, you stood next to me in the paper factory and when the bullets started flying, you threw your body in front of mine like a human shield knowing very well I was off my meds.”
Human shield.
There are those words again.
“What are you getting at?”
“When does it stop, Blackie? When do you become like the rest of them? When do you start to question if it’s my gut that’s leading us into hell or my fucking mind?”
It stops when I get out. When the charges go away and we’re both free. It fucking stops when the guy responsible for Reina’s situation is laid to rest. It fucking ends when we know the people we love are safe.
Until then, we do what we know and we pray it’s enough.
“I don’t know how to be anything other than what I am and I’m the man who stands tall at your right.”
“You don’t stand with me anymore, Blackie. You stand with Wolf. Maybe not at his right, but you still stand behind him.”
“Not today,” I snap, lifting my head to stare at the clock hanging on the wall behind the nurse’s station. “I need you to do something for me,” I say hoarsely. My vision blurs and for a brief second, it’s not Jack standing in front of me, it’s Lacey. She smiles at me and suddenly, time stops. The love I’m ruining and all the days I’ll miss come crashing down on me and it feels like I’m struggling to come off a bad high.
It feels like I’m overdosing on pain.
Whether it’s hers or mine, I’m not sure.
All I know is it cuts deep.
Through my flesh.
Through my organs.
Through my marrow.
Through my fucking soul.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lacey
“Lace, wake up.”
A hand gently shakes my shoulder as my eyes flutter open. Blinking twice, my vision sharpens, and I stare at Nico. Everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours comes rushing back to me and I scan the waiting room, hoping to find either my husband or my father. When I don’t spot either one of them, panic swarms me and I look back at Nico.
“Why are you here? Where is Blackie?”
Reaching behind him, he cups the back of his neck and shrugs his shoulders.
“You were sitting here all alone when I walked in,” he supplies. Dropping his hand from his neck, he tips his chin towards my lap. “What’s that?”
I divert my attention to where he’s looking and spot the pink teddy bear. Wondering where it came from, I lift it up and inspect it. I spot the post-it attached to the belly and instantly recognize Blackie’s handwriting.
A smile spreads across my face as I read the two words he scribed to the scrap of paper.