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Shit.
Shame washed over Rocket, far worse than any punishment Copper could dish out. So much of what the club stood for came down to respect, and Rocket had shown his president the ultimate disrespect today. Not intentionally. In truth, there wasn’t a man alive Rocket respected more than the club’s top guy, and he, as well as his brothers, followed a strict code which demonstrated respect for Copper.
At least until today.
Fuck, he was a royal asshole.
He gave Copper a single nod. If the man wanted him to shut up and listen, he’d do it. It was the least he owed him.
“All right.” After stroking his beard, Copper grabbed the open whiskey and downed a gulp. “I get it, brother, I really get it.” Copper thumped his chest. “In here.” He patted a gentle hand on his still healing abdomen. “Here.” Then he tapped a finger to his temple. “And here.”
Rocket remained silent, his attention focused on Copper. Being called brother gave him a flicker of hope he hadn’t completely destroyed Copper’s faith in him.
“My woman was hurt by a motherfucker too. Yes, it was different than what Chloe went through, and it was a long time ago, so she’d had time to learn to live with it. But for me? It was all fresh fucking information. And if someone else hadn’t gotten to the bastard first, you can bet your ass I’d have put a bullet in him.”
Rocket shifted his eyes to the orthopedic boot covering Copper’s leg from toes to knee. It had only been a few months since that all went down. Only a few months since he found out about the horrors in his own woman’s past and he’d sure as fuck handled it better than Rocket had.
“So I get it, brother. The rage, the hatred, the need for revenge. Not justice. I didn’t give a fuck about justice. Guessing it’s the same for you. There ain’t no such thing as justice for what happened to your woman. Nothing in the world makes up for it. But it feels damn fucking good to make the fucker responsible pay, doesn’t it?”
Rocket grunted.
“Easy to lose your head in that situation. I get that too. But Rocket, I swear to Christ if you ever go against the club again, I’ll tear that patch from your cut, skin the brand from your arm, and kick your ass to the curb myself.”
With a swallow Rocket nodded. Now that he was away from Lefty, rational thought returned. As did the magnitude of his fuck up. Christ, he’d nearly lost his club. Running a hand through his hair, he blew out a breath.
“Yeah,” Copper said. “Crashing down on you now, huh?”
“Cop…” He rolled his shoulders back. Time to fucking grovel.
His president took another drink then shook his head. He slid the bottle across the bar to Rocket. “Don’t need or want an apology. Told you I get it. Just need your word it’s a one-shot deal.”
“You have my word.”
“That means something to me,” Copper said. “Always has. You broke your word once. Do it again and it won’t mean shit to me anymore.”
Which would be the harshest punishment of all. Losing the trust and respect of someone who meant so much to him would make losing his patch that much harder. Chloe had tried to warn him, but he’d been too blinded by hatred to see past his own selfish need for revenge. She’d saved his stupid ass big time. And how did he repay her? With rejection.
Christ, he’d fucked up.
“Now,” Copper continued. “Let’s get down to the box so we can end this shit and let you get on to apologizing to your woman.”
“Not sure an apology is gonna cut it.”
Copper chuckled. “Yeah, you might have to resort to full-on groveling.”
With a grunt, Rocket nodded. He took in his president, who really did understand what Rocket was going through. Shell’s situation had been vastly different but just as devastating and something that would probably haunt Copper for the rest of his life. If there was anyone he could talk to about this shit, it was his prez.
“Shoulda been with her,” Rocket mumbled so low he was surprised Copper actually heard him. “Shoulda checked the goddamn house at least.”
“Ahh,” Copper said before taking another swallow of the whiskey. “Guilt sure is a nasty motherfucker. Makes us do all kinds of stupid shit.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Can you stow the Dr. Phil bullshit? This right here is why I don’t talk to any of you fuckers.” Rocket grabbed the bottle and downed three healthy gulps.
Copper was back to rubbing his chin. “All right. I’ll give it to you straight. You couldn’t have known what the fuck was going to happen today. Just like we couldn’t have known Lefty was going to rape Chloe in the first place. And you couldn’t have known your buddy’s wife was going to kill herself after his death.”
