"Does she know?" I saw anger on Rene’s behalf in his eyes, but I also saw relief.
I wasn’t perfect.
I’d just given him proof.
And my Old Lady was still at my side.
I’d given him hope.
"She does, and she forgives me. In time, when you tell Keira, she’ll forgive you too. But you can’t do it again, Storm."
"I got so much shit to fix, Bear, some days, it feels like it’s gonna drown me. The drugs, the sleeping, this shit with Keira’s dad, but she’s the only thing that makes me happy—"
I knew he was obsessed with her, but I didn’t like to tell him that she was as much of an addiction as the crack and the pot.
Fuck, this marriage was a disaster waiting to happen.
I knew it’d never work. The drugs were too potent a siren’s call, and Storm, well, he needed a partner. Not an innocent.
He needed someone who’d call him on his BS, who’d have his back, who’d wade into Hades itself for him, not one who’d been spoon-fed hellfire and damnation since birth.
So I chose my words carefully, because he had to change that. Just because she’d been raised naive, didn’t mean she had to remain that way.
I liked the girl, but she wasn’t right for him.
Not as she was.
"Storm, there’ll come another day when you need a hit, you and I both know that. Every time you let it conquer you, you’re taking a step away from a future with Keira.
"Now, life happens. Shit goes down, and you’re not always gonna be strong. That’s okay, boy. I’m not always strong. But you gotta lower those walls—"
"I can’t do that, Bear. She’s not like us. She isn’t one of us."
"You need to bring her into the fold."
"I can’t," he repeated. "Rex was right. She needs picket fences. She needs what her mom and dad have."
"Yeah, she might do, but what about you, son?"
His mouth tightened. "I-I’ll be what she needs."
I shook my head. "That ain’t the way forward."
"It has to be," he rasped.
"If you say so, Asher," I said softly, hoping that, when the day came and his marriage fell around his feet, Rene and I were around to pick up the pieces.
Thirty-Four
Keira
PRESENT
Blurry - Puddle of Mudd
"Dammit to hell," I snapped under my breath as I jumped behind the wheel and quickly darted out of the diner’s parking lot.
I was due at the therapist’s ten minutes ago, and while MC was looking after Cyan, I was late because Franny had cut out on us today. This was getting to be a bad habit of hers.
Sweating, still wearing my uniform, I drove to the edge of town where Dr. Janowicz’s office was located.
When I hit a red light, I ducked into my purse for a make-up wipe to clean up some of the grease on my skin, and as I twisted, I happened to catch a glimpse of a face in the window of a coffee shop.
For a second, I was pretty sure my eyes weren’t working. I even blinked a few times, thinking the sweat that had been dripping into them on a freakishly and unseasonably hot day was making me see things, but nope.
That was Kendra.
Sitting in a coffee shop.
In Coshocton.
In my goddamn town.
What the hell was she still doing here?
I swear to God, I’d have climbed out of the SUV and headed in there just to see what the hell was going on, but someone honked their horn behind me and I lit it out of there before she, or the guy she was with, could spot me.
That guy was a biker—I recognized the cut. I hadn’t caught much else about him…
Was it stupid that I was just glad he didn’t have long hair? Not that Storm could be in two places at once seeing as I knew he was at the couples’ session at the therapist’s on his own right now.
I rubbed my forehead, wondering what the hell she was still doing in town. Had she been here all along? Surely Storm had made her go back to West Orange? The Posse hadn’t mentioned her return, but after what had gone down, why would they mention her, period?
I hadn’t seen the bitch at the BBQ, so I knew she wasn’t staying at the clubhouse, and trust me, Kendra was self-destructive enough to have shown her face at the party. She was the kind of brazen cow who didn’t give a shit about authority, just did what she wanted to serve her own purpose.
As I raced toward the therapist’s office, I found a space fast, then darted inside, making it to the appointment twenty minutes late. The receptionist tutted her disapproval but let me dart in past the doctor’s next patient.
Sinking into the chair, flustered and overheated, annoyed and not in the mood to be dissected when I had questions for my husband, I apologized, "I’m so sorry I’m late, Doctor. It’s been a busy morning."
Dr. Janowicz arched a brow at me, which, of course, made me feel more flustered. She was in her early forties, fit in with her magnolia decor like a champion, and I was pretty damn sure she had a crush on Storm.
All in all, she irritated the hell out of me, however, she was good with Cyan.
There were no kiddy shrinks in Coshocton, but she’d been helping Cyan so far so I didn’t see a need to travel further to Cleveland or Columbus just yet. Maybe if Cy outgrew Dr. Janowicz, we’d have to revisit the subject, but my suspecting she had a crush on Storm wasn’t enough of a reason to change psychiatrists.
And yes, I was well aware that I sounded crazy.
Maybe I was.
Maybe I always would be.
Hell, if Storm could have me followed for almost twelve years and get his dick padlocked to prove himself to me, I was allowed to think anything with a vagina would crush on my husband because he was that hot.
"You’re still liking the position at the diner, Keira?" she asked me quietly, not referencing how late I was.
I shot Storm a look. His gaze was on his boots, which was unusual. He’d glanced at me when I walked in, and while I didn’t think he was angry at me for being late, he was definitely pouting about something.
"I am. It’s harder now that I’ve got Cyan’s schooling to worry about, but it stops me from going stir crazy."
She nodded. "Storm and I were just discussing the recent developments in your relationship."
"What developments?"
My mind scuttled along to Kendra.
God, I hated her.
Even slamming her face into the counter at the diner wasn’t enough to make me feel better about her.
Had I broken her nose? Had it seemed a little crooked in the coffee shop?
I really hoped it was.
"The fact that you’re identifying as a couple now?" Dr. Janowicz explained, breaking into my bloodthirsty thoughts. "With his predilection for addiction, and considering this is still a recovery in the early days, I was explaining how it isn’t wise for him to be getting entangled once more."
I frowned at her. "Entangled? We’re married."
"You separated for a long time, Keira," she told me calmly. "This could constitute a new relationship. Storm’s recovery has to be his priority right now. Have you researched the twelve steps?"