Wild Ones (The Lane) (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

We were back to waiting with heavy anxiety, though in differing incarnations. It colored our days, painted them in the reds and golds of Luke’s anticipation and the black and grays of my dread. It followed us everywhere, stained our daily lives, wrapped itself around our lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Luke spent even more time at the gym, physically and mentally preparing himself to step back into that ring and finish what had been started. I continued to split my time between there and Duke’s, trying and failing to avoid a puppy-dog-eyed Jax, whose relentless apologies came in the form of extra shots on my tray that I didn’t order. I accepted them, even though we never stopped long enough to really hash it out. I knew he wanted to, I could tell by the way he hovered when I loaded my tray, his expression both expectant and mournful, but I was coiled too tight, too full of worry and dread to devote the energy necessary to make things right between us.

I wondered at times—moments between customers and watching Luke train, where everything fell away, leaving me in silence, times when there weren’t enough distractions between me and the crushing anxiety—if my ma had felt the same. Did she know the bitter worry that coated my tongue, making it stiff and swollen in my mouth? The acidic fear that sat like a brick in the pit of my stomach? Or had she waited with Da in a state of enthusiasm and impatience until the night of, when she would magically transform into the quivering, fearful woman who ignored the small children seated next to her while she prayed her sinner’s prayers knee-deep in violence?

My ma had always been an enigma to me, a puzzle I couldn’t solve and wasn’t sure I wanted to. My da had been the easy one, all Irish whiskey and Irish temper, but Ma had never made much sense. But suddenly I wanted to understand her, figure out the woman who gave up everything for the black-haired grizzly of a man who gave her children she never protected from him. Who wouldn’t even marry her. If her path was my path, I wanted to know where exactly it was that she lost herself, if we were doomed to be the same. Was the fault in us or in our stars?

I was all over the place in those waiting days.

Theo suggested a night out, even with all his talk of avoiding distractions. He proposed it as a chance to blow off steam, to get together outside the gym and drink to celebrate an upcoming win and the money that would come from it. I jumped at it, not only to get my mind off everything, but to also help repair the rift with Jax, bring both halves of my life together and hope they found some common ground there. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to be in the position of constantly choosing between them. Maybe I could even go home for more than a few hours before the heavy, awkward atmosphere became too much to function in, and I left to search out Luke, with whom things were easier. Luke wasn’t happy with my decision to invite Jax, but he didn’t fight me on it either. He was quick with the under-the-breath comments, however. Comments I chose to ignore.

We decided, as a group, on the Tap Room because it was neutral ground. Duke’s was mine and Jax’s. The Tap Room was nobody’s. Though, considering what had happened the last time I’d been there, it would have been safe to call it mine and Luke’s. At least the stairwell.

Jax ended up bringing along Aaron, probably as backup, and to begin with, our massive group—Jax, Aaron, Theo, Brandon, Cam, Cam’s girlfriend, Luke and I—got along pretty well. We squeezed into one booth, practically sitting on each other to accomplish it, and informed Fury that we needed him to keep the drinks coming until we said stop. We dominated the jukebox, one of us jumping up after every song, hollering back to the group for requests that kept it playing an endless supply of past and present favorites we could barely hear over the steady stream of laughter and talking.

Cam kept us entertained with stories of Luke’s old fights and training mishaps, Jax and I piping up occasionally with our own stories about working at Duke’s, Aaron chiming in with little details here and there. It was fun and loud and a little messy at times, everyone talking over everyone, hands flying in wild gestures, and it felt like progress. Even if Luke never moved his arm from around my shoulders, where it sat possessively, and he and Jax never made eye contact.

Halfway through the night, Joshua showed up with Rosie on his arm and they made for a table in the corner, where the Tap Room’s owner, the mousy, beady-eyed Ted waited. Rosie barely had an opportunity to wave in our direction as she passed by our booth before Joshua was demanding her attention back to him in an impatient sort of way. I kept my eye on them off and on, watching their interactions when the conversation at our table didn’t demand my attention, because their relationship had always kinda fascinated me. Especially since every time I saw them together, Rosie looked two seconds from passing out from sheer boredom.

I made a comment along those lines to Jax, who was seated across from me, something like, “Man, Rosie always looks like she’s ready to fall asleep when she’s with Joshua, doesn’t she?” and before he could reply, Brandon glanced up from his drink and fixed me with a pointed stare.

“You mean you don’t know?” he asked, something akin to malice in his voice.

I gave him a deadpan look, ready for the bullshit to start. We had been coexisting in the same space so well too.

“Know what exactly?”

He laughed, a bitter, humorless sound that caught the attention of everyone else at the table.

“Your girl Rose used to be with someone else before King came along and snatched her up. She’s little more than ransom.” He glanced at Jax seated next to him out of the corner of his eye. “Know anything about that, Brother Bear?”

Jax shook his head and shot me a look, clearly as confused as I was. As bemused as I felt about what Brandon was saying, the moment Jax’s eyes had met mine made me feel a little lighter, the familiarity in it reaching down in me to loosen whatever it was that ached when I thought about the strain between us.

Rather than continuing, Brandon muttered a “Didn’t think so” and went back to staring at his drink, oblivious to the way everyone aside from Jax, Aaron and me suddenly relaxed, losing the stiff postures I only realized they’d taken while he’d been talking once they were gone.

From somewhere in the past, a ghostly whisper rose up in my head. It sounded a lot like my old English teacher, Mr. Elliott.

“Every man has secret sorrows in which the world knows not.”

Before I realized what I was doing, I was reaching across the table and touching the back of Brandon’s hand, only for him to jerk it away forcefully and glare at me.

“She was yours, wasn’t she?” I looked over at Jax for confirmation and he gave me a quick shoulder spasm that might have been a shrug.

Brandon merely continued to glare at me, but the longer I held it, the more I thought it looked a little sad as well, a little like defeat. Eventually, he looked away, and while he never did reply, I noticed how he took great pains to not look over my shoulder where Rosie sat with Joshua.

The night wore on, the drinks kept coming, and the more Brandon, who had stopped participating in the conversations around him, got in him, the more I saw him casting furtive glances in Rosie’s direction. Finally, tired of seeing them and with enough booze in me that made it seem like a good idea, I nudged Luke, telling him to move. Scooting out of the booth after him, I stood and grabbed my half-full beer before starting to heading toward Rosie’s table. Brandon half rose and, once he realized where I was going, sank back down into his seat, taking a long pull from his own beer. Over my shoulder I flashed him a confident smile, one that had him downing the rest of his drink with a hurried air.

I approached Rosie’s table with a falsely bright smile and no clear goal in my mind. Grabbing an extra chair from a nearby table, I pulled it over between Joshua and Rosie, setting my beer down with a dull slam.

“So, guys. How’s it going?” I asked cheerfully, glancing at each of them in turn. Rosie looked like she was about to birth a kitten, her eyes wide and a little panicky. Joshua simply looked amused. He always did, whenever I saw him, like he was a genuinely happy person. I had always attributed it to how much money his bars brought in on a nightly basis. Now, I wasn’t so sure. It felt more like he was on the verge of laughing at some kind of private joke only he was aware of.

“Brianna,” he replied by way of greeting. He was the only one who ever called me by my full name. “How are you doing this evening?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Say, Rosie. You’ll never guess who I’m here with!”

If possible, Rosie looked even more alarmed.

“Come on, guess,” I pressed and Rosie’s face paled underneath her flawlessly applied makeup, her eyes darting frantically in every direction but the one I had came from.

“Rosemary, darling. Bri asked you a question,” Joshua gently prodded her, and while I smiled a little wider and nodded, I wanted nothing more than to stand up and slam my fist into his face, maybe even break his nose. Fuck this man who forced others to do his bidding like some mafia don. Fuck him for forcing my boy into the ring by dangling obscene amounts of money in front of his face.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she finally replied, the hands wrapped around her glass a little shaky, but her voice firm. “I guess you managed to drag Jackson out with you and your new boy toy? That’s good. He needs to expand his circle of friends.”

“Nope,” I said, popping the
p
. “Brandon. Do you remember Brandon? He says he remembers you. Pretty well, in fact.”

The entire bar, which wasn’t very full and mostly consisted of our two groups, fell silent.

“You should come over and say hi,” I told her. “I bet he’d love to catch up.”

I thought Rosie would pass out. Her face paled even more, her hands shook so hard, she could have had Parkinson’s.

“Ah, yes, well, that’s okay, I mean, uh, give him my best and all—”

“Nonsense!” Joshua interrupted and once again I felt my hands grip my bottle hard enough to shatter it.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
“You should say hello, Rosemary. It’s only polite.”

“No, really, I’m...”

“Go,” he insisted, his voice turning suddenly stern. “It’s polite, Rosemary. And we must be polite.”

Unease skidded across my spine, making me wish, belatedly, I could take it all back.

Oh
,
God
,
Rosie.
I’m so sorry.
And I don’t even know why
,
really.

She nodded and got up, moving mechanically toward our table. When she was far enough away, I turned to Joshua.

“I know about you,” I said quietly.

He chuckled lightly, reminding me a comic-book villain.

“Do you?” he wondered. “How interesting.”

I scowled at him. “Yeah.
Interesting.
Not my first choice of words, but let’s go with that.”

He leaned forward, crowding into my space. Past him, I could feel Luke’s eyes on us, watching closely as the mousy Ted muttered something that sounded more like a squeak than “I’m just going to go get us more drinks” before getting up and scampering away.

“I would be careful if I were you, Brianna. It’s a dangerous world your man is involved in. Accidents happen.”

“Is that a threat?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Because I don’t handle threats too well.”

He leaned back, the amused expression back in place, and he chuckled again. “Oh no. Not a threat at all. Just...advice.”

“Right. I’ll keep it in mind.” I pushed my chair back slowly, my eyes never leaving his.

“Do that. Now be a dear and send Rosemary back over to me. Ted and I have business to attend to whenever he returns, and I like Rosemary to keep notes.”

I resisted the urge to flip him off as I stood and grabbed my drink. I was on my way back to the table, fighting back something akin to regret and something that was surely rage, when a familiar figure stumbled in the door, catching my attention. My stomach did a slow roll as I recognized Preach. Preach, whom I hadn’t seen since that fateful night when his wails filled the air. Preach, who had been my friend.

He hadn’t taken note of me yet. Instead, he was headed for the bar and Fury behind it, his walk uneven and frantic. He was gesturing wildly before he even got there, and even from my position, still several feet away, I could see that his eyes were a little crazed. The ghost of that same old worry floated up, and I quickened my pace, wondering what was wrong. He was speaking to Fury in low, urgent tones, so fast that I was unable to make out what he was saying even as I got up behind him.

“Come on, Pops. You gotta calm down. No one is following you.”

I stopped in my tracks and stared quizzically at the back of Preach’s shaggy, dirty head.

“He’s your son?” I heard myself ask dubiously from some place far away.

Preach turned around and his eyes lit up when he caught sight of me. It almost broke my heart.

“Little girl! Little red-dressed girl with the lips of red. Oh, little girl, where have you been?” And I knew it was true. This was Fury’s father. I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed the resemblance before, not just in looks but in the way they spoke. I shook my head like a punch-drunk dog, attempting to clear it.

Preach’s face suddenly twisted and he reached out, hand blurring like a snake striking, latching on to my arm. “You’re not safe, little girl. There’s forces of evil.”

Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, several things happened at once. Fury told his dad to let me go—his dad Preach—and from behind me, a table scraped against the aged wooden floor. I glanced over my shoulder in time to catch Cam and Luke jumping to their feet, Jax half out of his chair. I wanted to shake my head, do something to discourage them, but they were already rushing forward and Preach let me go. I jerked back around as Preach took a step backward, his eyes wide, his finger shaking as he pointed at Luke and Cam.

“The dark man! The dark man!” He continued to walk backward, an air of unease hanging over him, stopping only once his back connected with the bar behind him. “Oh, where is my friend? He only exists with my friend!” He clutched at his head with trembling hands and I started to approach him, but he flinched, pointing again to the two boys behind me.