Lay It Down: Bastards MC Series Boxed Set (37 page)

The thought struck me hard as I realized that he probably wasn’t alone. If he was in Maine, it was either for a job or to see… my eyes snapped over his shoulder, searching the bar patrons for the familiar face. Maybe he had come after all.

“He’s not heah, Lil’ Kangaroo.” The voice was low and gruff and proved without a doubt that he hailed from South Boston.

I tried to hide my disappointment and fought the urge to ask where he was. This wasn’t his weekend to have Sammy, and before our argument, he’d mentioned he was probably going to hang out with friends. I’d assumed he meant the Bastards. If he wasn’t here with these friends… my mind wandered to a place I didn’t want it to go. The only reason I could think of that would keep him from spending time with Rocker was a date. I hated that I was that insecure and that I automatically assumed the worst. But I had told him to move on, and Matty was who he was.

I definitely hadn’t made the greatest choices over the past few months, especially where Matt was concerned, so it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t here. I wasn’t sure how to tell him about all the changes I’d made. Or even how to explain what I was feeling. Part of me had been so sure he would show up though, because Matty was always there when I needed him. Or at least he always used to be. Regret settled in my gut, and I closed my eyes, trying to make the sudden nausea go away.

“Jesus, Joey, you ah wicked pale. Did you eat suppah before you came out and decided to get shit-faced?”

The irritation in his voice surprised me, and I snapped open my eyes to find him glaring at me. I would probably never get used to the gruff attitude that seemed ever present in these crazy Bastard boys. They were either ordering me around, telling me exactly how to live my life, or bitching about how I lived it. They all seemed to need to lecture me constantly about the dumbest stuff and jump to conclusions. This time, Rob was way off. I took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow.

“No,” I started slowly, “I haven’t had anything to eat yet. I was…” I cleared my throat, searching for words. “Busy before we came out, and we’re going out for breakfast after we leave here.”

Rob swore and muttered something sexist about women like me not being able to take care of themselves.

I chuckled then talked over him. “As for being shit-faced, the last time I checked, you can’t get drunk off water. I guess we can always check with Fred to make sure that’s all that’s been in my drinks.”

“Wait… what?” Rob stopped short, shaking his head as if he didn’t believe me. “Watah? You’re tellin’ me you’ve only been drinking watah? Not countin’ all the shots, right? I think you are forgettin’ that I saw you out there dancin’.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I kinda figured that when you came up behind me and started to cuddle.” I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “It’s called having a good time, silly. You should try it—it’d do you some good. I’m letting loose and having a good time, yes. But I am painfully sober.”

Rocker sat back, his dark eyes traveling all over my face as if trying to decide if I was lying. “You must be wicked hungry.” His tongue wet his bottom lip. “I haven’t had anything either. Is there anywhere near heah we could go?”

I nodded without really thinking about it. “There’s the Little Hole in the Wall down the street. Do you like Mexican?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to say no or not.

He nodded. “Let’s go then.” He must have seen my hesitation and gave me a toothy smile. “I’ll bring ya back in one piece.”

I looked over his shoulder, trying to see where my friends were dancing. They didn’t seem to miss me, all having a good time swaying with each other on the floor. I shrugged then nodded. Why not?

Rob stood suddenly, pulling me to my feet. “I’ve gotta tell the boys, then we’ll go.”

The boys? I took a deep breath. I didn’t know which ones were there, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t up to facing any of them. Most of Matty’s friends hadn’t liked me to begin with, and after the way things ended, I was positive they hated me. I tugged back on Rocker’s hand. “I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

Rob turned back to me, his dark thick eyebrows raised in silent question. “The hell you will!” He tightened his hold on my wrist as if I was going to run away, and he dragged me behind him toward the bar.

“Wait!” I tried to pull my hand away again. “I need to tell my friends that I’m leaving.”

Rocker stopped suddenly, turning. “Friends?” He sneered. “They never once came over to check on you to make sure you were okay with me. Those aren’t friends.” He turned back just as abruptly and pulled me to the bar.

Hawk shook his head when he saw me trailing behind Rob, but he did offer a smile and say hello. He didn’t hide the look of shock on his face when Rocker told him we would be back before closing, and even though I couldn’t hear the words Hawk whispered to Rob, I was positive he was pissed at the idea. Within seconds though, we were outside in the cold early spring air, and Rocker was pulling me though the parking lot. He stopped suddenly at a giant black Ford.

“This is your truck?”

He only offered me a nod as he unlocked the front passenger’s door then pulled it open for me. I eyed the tall step, wondering if I could make it up in the dangerously high heels and tight jeans Teagan had convinced me to wear. I must have hesitated a second too long because Rocker grabbed my hips, and he lifted me up as if I didn’t weigh a quarter of what I did.

“Yeah, it’s mine.” He shrugged as he turned. “Big Little Man Syndrome.” He shut the door.

I contemplated his words as he walked around the front of the obtrusive vehicle. Little Man Syndrome, or Napoleon Syndrome, I knew, but Big Little Man Syndrome was lost on me. I reached over and opened his door, not sure if I wanted to know what he meant.

He laughed at my look as he slid into the driver’s seat. Raising an eyebrow, he held up his half-bent pinkie finger. “Ya know, the luck o’ the Irish?” His voice took on a Celtic accent that was spot-on.

I just wasn’t getting it. What did the luck of the Irish have to do with anything?

I was about to ask when he burst out laughing. “Jesus, Joey, you fuckin’ kill me!” He cleared his throat and tipped his head. “I guess you would say that I’m overcompensatin’ for life’s shortcomings.”

Holy shit! As realization hit me, I could feel my face flame and I giggled. Leaning my head back, I stared at his ceiling, letting the laugh subside. “But what does that have to do with the luck of the Irish? Wouldn’t life’s, um”—I cleared my throat—“shortcomings be bad luck, not good?”

Rocker didn’t just laugh at me that time—he tipped his head back and howled. I didn’t want to join him, but it was too hard not to.

When he finally got control of himself, he wiped his eyes and looked at me with a smirk. “Lil’ Kangaroo, the Irish have the worst luck of any people ever. When someone says they have the ‘luck of the Irish,’ it means they’re anything but lucky. I’m Irish to the core—third-generation American, but as Irish as they come. Matty likes to tell people I drive a big truck to make up for the fact that I have a little dick.” He shrugged. “Big Little Man Syndrome.” He turned to look at me, smiling. “So where is this place?”

He turned back to the windshield as my face flamed red, and I was relieved he couldn’t see me. I gave him directions as he turned the key, and the beast of a truck roared to life. A few minutes later, he pulled into the tiny parking lot.

“Little Hole in the Wall?” he asked, reading the hand-painted sign on the side of the building. “I thought you were telling me that this place was just a crappy little restaurant, a dump. Not that it was the actual name.”

I smiled as I opened my door. “It looks sketchy, but it’s the best Mexican food around.”

The tiny, dimly lit restaurant was almost empty. The only other patrons were a young couple huddled together at the corner table. We ordered, Rob refused to let me pay, then we sat by the window to wait for our food. I was about to ask him how he’d been over the last few months when he broke the silence.

“What in the hell are you doing, Joey?”

I stopped trying to fold the napkin into different shapes and glanced up, the look on his face confusing me. “Sorry?”

He scowled, looking away. “With your life, Lil’ Kangaroo. Why in the hell are you dressed like that? Why are you out with people like that?” He nodded toward the window.

He didn’t say “instead of with Matty,” but he didn’t have to. I knew exactly what he meant.

“He’s fuckin’ miserable, you know that, right?” His voice dropped as though he didn’t want to say the last few words.

There was no reason to lie. “I was saying good-bye.”

Confusion crossed his features.

“I’ve made some seriously screwed up decisions over the last few months, Matty included”—Rocker nodded eagerly, and I narrowed my eyes at him—“and I needed to start over.” I tried to figure out how to explain it. “One morning, after the divorce was final, I was lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself. I had gone from having everything to practically nothing in a matter of weeks. Hell, I don’t even have my own apartment; when I’m not with the kids at the house, I stay with a friend. I only have my kids two weeks out of the month, so for the other two weeks, the only thing keeping me going was a job I dreaded going to.” I took a sip of my Coke. “I realized that morning that this was a chance for me to find myself, to start over and do things right this time. So I did.”

Rocker leaned forward. “And what did you do?”

The food arrived, saving me from answering. I dug into my enchilada quickly, almost moaning at the taste. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. If Rocker heard me, he didn’t say anything; but then, he was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to notice much of anything. We ate in comfortable silence.

It wasn’t long before Rocker sat back and smiled. “You were right. Best Mexican evah.” He finished off his soda then met my eyes. “So you gonna tell me this big thing you’re celebrating?”

“I’m not. I’m saying goodbye.” I shrugged, “I decided I don’t want to be a caseworker anymore, that I need something more
me
. So I applied to and surprisingly got accepted into grad school. But I had to take some undergrad refresher courses this semester, just to be prepared next fall.”

Rocker looked disappointed, as if he thought my life change was going to be much more interesting.

I swallowed my smile. “I talked to Will, and he’s on board. He thinks I should focus on the kids and school, not work. So I quit my job.” I nodded as he frowned. “I’m actually going down to your neck of the woods tomorrow to look at apartments. I’d like to start moving no later than Monday, because commuting all the time sucks and I need to find a part-time job.”

“My neck of the woods?”

I nodded.

“Why?” His brows knit together. “Joey, where in the hell aah you goin’ to school?”

“Boston College. They have the best psych grad program around.” I smiled at the blank look on his face. “Yes, Rocker, I’m moving to Boston.”

“Holy shit.” He dragged out the words in complete surprise. “Faack, Joey.” Then the surprise turned to look I couldn’t read. “You haveta tell Matty.”

Chapter 4

Jo

I wasn’t sure how long we’d sat in front of Hooligan’s Pub, but the silence made it feel like hours. I didn’t know what to say to him, but since he’d left the truck running, the heater on, and hadn’t attempted to leave, I could tell he didn’t want me to head back into the bar yet. I was more than happy to sit there in the quiet and avoid life for a few more minutes.

Rocker was right. I did have to tell Matty, because I didn’t want him to find out from someone else. Things with Matty were still so screwed up though. I couldn’t just pick up the phone and tell him I was moving to the one city he wanted me to stay away from. But if he found out from anyone other than me that I had quit my job—the job he valued—and that I was moving to a city he thought was dangerous, he’d be furious. No matter how he found out, Matty was going to be livid and wonder why I hadn’t told him sooner, why I had kept it a secret for so long, especially when I was so adamant that we should tell each other everything.

I looked at Rocker. He was staring straight ahead at the building, his triangular face covered in shadows, thick fingers tapping a soundless beat on the steering wheel as if trying to work out some giant puzzle, and I knew he was thinking about his best friend. Rob was more loyal than anyone I’d ever met, and fear hit me suddenly.

“Please don’t tell him before I can.” The words were a whispered plea.

He didn’t look at me, but I could see his bright white teeth working his bottom lip as if he was lost in thought. He shook his head. “I’m not telling him shit, Joey! Not my business.” He snapped his head toward me. “You drivin’ down or takin’ the train?”

I started; that was the last thing I’d expected him to ask. “Train. I’m staying with a friend tonight, and she’s dropping me off in the morning. Cris is meeting me at the station.”

“Where aah you lookin’ for apahtments?”

I shook my head. I actually didn’t know. “Cris set them up. I guess one of her friends is a realtor, and since I’m just looking to sublet for a while, she offered to help. My budget is pretty small compared to what some people want for rent, so we’ll see.” I sighed. “I also need to find a job, so I’m dropping off a ton of applications.”