“We’ll find you somewhere to go until you decide what your next move is,” Tyrant says smoothly, when the table lapses into uncomfortable silence.
“She can have my room for now, if that works?” My voice is too thick. I’m trying to play it cool when it’s the last thing I am, sweating beneath my t-shirt while my cock hardens painfully and shamefully under the table. “I could take one of the guest rooms.”
We have plenty of extra rooms at the clubhouse. We’ve done this before. It’s often the first solution, until we find an empty house or apartment owned by the club. They’re currently all full, as far as I know.
“If that’s what you want, then it’s fine with us,” Tyrant says after sharing a look with Raiden. Not a look that says he has my number. Leadership is ninety-five percent silent communication.
I’ll never change my mind about that.
“Thank you for everything.” Esme’s voice shakes, pressing on my immediate instinct to wrap an arm around her shoulders and hold her together through sheer force of will alone. Her world collapsed around her tonight, but she’s upright. Pushing herself forward. So unbelievably strong. “That’s not nearly enough,” she whispers. “I’ll never be able to express what all of this means. I don’t think that I deserve it. James definitely doesn’t.”
“Wizard does,” Tyrant says, his voice deep with confidence and empathy. “Here, we look after our own, and that means family too. We take vows about that.”
Esme’s eyes flick to me. I can see that she wants to argue about her not being family, but she picks up her mug instead. Her throat bobs with the caustic swallow, but she doesn’t wince or pull face. Just keeps drinking, and then at the end of a few swallows, she licks her bottom lip to catch any remaining droplets. Her lashes flutter up and down, whisper quick and quiet. “Just… thank you then,” she whispers.
All her emotions flicker over her face. I hope they’re not playing out on my own. Her coming here woke everything up. The holes in me are all overflowing. There’s nowhere to stuff anything down.
When her fingers start drumming on the table, I don’t drape my hand over hers. I lean in a little bit closer, not so we brush under the table, but so that I can bump her shoulderjust briefly and lightly, as a gesture of solidarity. I want her to know I’m here. That I’d do anything to protect her peace as well as her physical safety.
Fuck. That’s too much.
Just that I’m here, then.
And that I’ll be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next with afriendshipthat she’s definitely going to need to fall back on.
I’ve dreamed of having her here, and now she is. I’ve also dreamed of taking her hand in mine, tenderly. Romantically. Twisting our fingers together and brushing kisses over her knuckles. Relearning every freckle, ever scar, every mark and line. I have to remind myself that those are dreams and they’re never going to happen.
Tyrant stands. “I’m gonna call church. I’ll give the guys a few hours to get here. Noon, probably. Do you think you can figure out where to wire the money to before then?”
All eyes are on me. I just hope that my face isn’t givingnaked and exposed,broadcasting to the whole room how messed up I feel about the absolute jarring shock it is to have my past collide with my present.
“I’ll have it all ready,” I promise. Having something to throw myself into for the next four hours would be perfect.
“Good.” Tyrant gives Esme a sympathetic look. He knows what it is to be broken, and he’s more than used to sheltering wrecked people here at the clubhouse. “If you can get a few hours of sleep, that would probably be best. I know you’re keyed up, but even just relaxing before this evening would likelydo you good. We’ll get this all taken care of, and then we’ll go with you to Seattle.”
“I can call a realtor and arrange everything,” Lynette offers. “For tonight. Say, around seven or eight?”
Esme nods.
Tyrant and Raiden share another look, then Tyrant confirms. “Perfect.” His eyes fall on Esme again, not assessing or unkind, but definitely heavy and whirring with all the things he needs to get done before tonight. “How much would you like to take with you? Do you need a truck? We have one we can send.”
“No,” Esme breathes. “Just a suitcase.”
Asuitcase. After ten fucking years of living with my brother! I don’t know if that makes me want to hope, punch a wall, or break down over. Maybe all of it. My emotions are an ugly mess.
“I’d still like someone else to take you. I know you drove here and you’re perfectly capable of driving back, but you’re tired and this is tough. Will you let one of our guys drive with you? The rest will follow on their bikes. We could put boxes in the back of the truck and they can help with any packing you’d like done.”
“Oh, that’s…”
“It’s not too much,” Tyrant assures her. “Do you want another woman there with you? I know you don’t know my guys from a hole in the ground.”
“Wizard will…” She trails off again. “I mean, Wizard will be there?”
“Yes. I will.”
“It’s fine then,” she says. “I think it would be best not to put anyone else in a shitty situation.” She means a potentially dangerous one.
“My wife kicks ass,” Raiden interjects. “She’s beautiful but fucking scary in her own right. She can go with you, if you’d like.”
