“Okay, let’s get out of here.” I barely register Tyler’s voice or his hand closing around my arm, but I stumble after him.
We cross the shop. He opens the door, and we are outside, Zane on my other side. The sun peeks through stray clouds. My head clears as we walk down the street, going God knows where, and my heart slows.
The tiny Edward Klief Park is just around the corner, and Tyler leads us to a bench under a tree. The shade is cool, and I sink down on the wooden seat with relief.
“Better, fucker?” Zane asks after a while, and I force my zoned-out brain to return to the now. “Thought you were gonna pass out in there for a moment.”
“Shit, don’t know what happened.”
Tyler is sitting with his hands hanging between his legs. He sends me a sideways look. “Sounds like you had a bad experience and certain situations remind you of it.” He makes it sound like a question.
I nod.
“It’s okay to freak out, you know,” he says. “I get that sometimes, too.”
That’s news to me. Tyler looks… solid. Totally solid. One hundred percent powerhouse. “You freak out? About things that happened to you?”
“We all do,” Zane says, and okay, my jaw is hanging slack. “See, fucker, you’ve avoided this for too long.”
“Avoided what?” I glance from him to Tyler and back. What is he talking about?
“The talk I had with the others, getting to know them. Fact is, I don’t know you half as well as I know the others. This has to change.”
Oh fuck. “Not a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
The urge to get up and run returns. “You know enough.”
More than enough. I have no idea why he took me in, frankly, a smelly street bum with no future.
“I know a few things,” Zane admits. “I talked to Jason.”
“You did? Fuck.” I bury my face in my hands, then scrub them down. “Christ, Zane.”
Fucking hell.
But he continues as if nothing’s up. “It’s the rest I need to know. Things like this attack. Like where you lived before. Where you came from. All that shit.”
I don’t wanna talk about it. Especially not now, when every breath I take reminds me of Amber and how much I miss her, how much her anger and pain cuts into me.
But this is Zane, this is the brotherhood I owe everything to, and if Zane asks, then I’ll talk. And I do. I tell him about the attack, about Simon’s gang, about my time on the street, before and after Madison. About the boy camps, the group homes and foster families I ran away from.
By the time I’m done, my bones ache as if I’ve just gone through it all again—the beatings, the fights, the running and hiding, the violence and fear. I feel sick to my stomach.
God, I wish I could see Amber, wrap myself around her until I feel warm again. She makes the bad go away.
“That’s enough, buddy.” Tyler pats me on the back, and before I let my mouth run away with it—as if often does when I’m stressed—and ask if I get a treat for performing well, he gets up. “Need to return to the shop. See you later.”
Oh, right. Gut me, strew my insides on the ground, stomp on them, and then go back to work.
Nothing new here.
“Have fun,” I snarl and make myself move, start to stand up.
Zane’s hand snags on my wrist and keep me down. Dammit. “Not yet.”
“I need to get to work, too. I’ll be late.” And I’ve lost track of time.
“Why are you working two extra jobs? Rafe’s been asking me that. He covers your rent, so you can focus on your training. I know you need a job for your daily expenses, but, man, you’re wearing yourself out.”
“I need the money.”
“And I need you focused on your training. You’re almost there.” He rubs one shaved side of his head. “What the hell do you need more money for? Gonna buy yourself a limo and ride into the sunset?”
I laugh. Can’t help it, because that’s just… “I don’t want to go anywhere. Hell, this is the first stability I’ve had in my life.” And doesn’t that suck donkey balls? “But I figured I’d be ready for when you kick me out.”
I curse inwardly when the words leave my mouth. What’s wrong with my self-control today? Or rather, my absolute fucking lack of it.
“What makes you think I’ll kick you out?”
“Man, everyone does, sooner or later. Nothing this good ever lasts, and you’ll soon change your mind.”
Like Amber did.
“The hell, J.”
“Look,” I say, “I live on borrowed time. I know it, all right? Like I’m renting a room in someone else’s life. The life of someone more deserving than me. I’m a fraud. Fucked up to hell and back. People get tired of my shit eventually and leave.”
I’m dead serious, and when Zane starts to laugh, it’s like a bucketful of cold water being thrown down my back.
Motherfucking hell.
“What’s so funny?” I mutter. “You asked.”
I jerk when he slaps my back, still laughing. What’s up with all the back slapping?
“Fucker,” he says when he can breathe again, “you’re fucking nuts, you know that?” He slaps me again, then grabs my shoulder, as if guessing I’m one second from shooting to my feet and leaving. “You are special. Believe it. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t matter anymore, okay? Because now you are family, and even if you were the stupidest, laziest fuck on Earth—which you’re not, thank God—we still wouldn’t give you up.”
I’m sure I’m gaping at him like a fish, and this time when he slaps my back, I barely feel it. My chest is so tight I wrap an arm around it.
“You serious?” Because I don’t believe he is.
“Fucker, I’ve never been more serious in my life. Invest your money in people. Spend it on people you care for. Buy your girl gifts, flowers, teddy bears, whatever. But never think we’ll throw you out.”
I say nothing. I guess I’m still in shock.
“I’m about to offer you a job, so finish your training already, okay? You’re fucking ready.” Zane stands up, and I’m still sitting, trying to absorb what he said. “And as for Amber… It’s up to you to change your reputation. Hear what I’m saying? Be who you want to be, J, and everyone else will see it, sooner or later.”
***
I won’t give up.
The thought buzzes in my head as the days pass with no word from Amber. I clean the tattoo shop, I practice my art on a new customer, and Zane seems pleased with my work. He tries to talk to me again, but I can’t deal with that shit right now.
I need Amber to talk to me, need to clear this up, no matter what happens afterward. No matter if she decides she’s had enough of me and walks away anyway.
Who would blame her? Not me.
But goddammit, it hurts. Never thought it could hurt so much. You’d think a guy who had his world come crashing around his ears so many times would feel nothing.
Instead, I feel too much. Since Zane and Rafe brought me here, since I got a place to live and an art to learn, the numbness I’d perfected shattered, and since I met her…
Yeah, since I met her, I can’t stop the smile spreading on my face at the thought of seeing her, or the knife twisting in my chest at the thought I’ll never be with her again.
So I deal with it the only way I know how—killing myself working my two jobs, training at the gym, taking over the others’ shifts to clean the shop. Making jokes, teasing, pretending nothing’s wrong.
Nothing’s fucking wrong. The world sucks. That’s the way it is. You know it, so take it like a man.
Right.
Not that I didn’t try talking to the guys at first. Monday after the wedding, down at Damage Control, when they showed up giving me the stink-eye. I gave them my version of the events.
They didn’t seem impressed.
In fact, Micah looked like he wanted to punch the living daylights out of me and held himself back with difficulty. When I tried explaining what went down, he called me a fucking douchebag and stalked away. He’s been avoiding me ever since. Fuck knows what Ev told him happened.