AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Finally, I kick my foot, tapping out.
I’m pulled up by my hands as Jesse helps me sit forward. The bar spins, and I blink a few times, trying to stop the dim lights from swirling. Tracers flash before my vision. I swat them away.
“Damn, Mel. I thought you were going to choke there for a second.” Jesse rubs my back, laughing as I shake my head. “What did they do to you in there?”
Annoyed, I shove his hand away and hop off the bar. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I glance back to see the disappointed look on his face, but he doesn’t say anything as I take off through the crowd.
I head for the exit, bypassing the restroom, and push open the door. The muggy air blasts me in the face, making my stomach feel queasy. As the door closes behind me, muffling the sounds from inside, I inhale a full, clean breath.
The bite of alcohol stings the back of my throat. I exhale a hot breath, tasting the bourbon on my tongue. It’s already clouding my thoughts. Dulling my senses. I should relish this feeling, begging the numb to finish dulling the ache—but I’m frightened. It’s so stupid, and I can’t for the life of me understand why.
Maybe because it’s the first time in a long while that I’ve drank without Dar. Maybe I’m scared to do anything without her. But no, I don’t think that’s the problem. It’s the guilt that I’m here and she’s not—that I shouldn’t be here, partying and having a good time, when she’ll never get to again. And as I continue to contemplate the many, mounting reasons, my head grows foggy and lightheaded, and I smile. I want another shot. That’s all I crave, just to finish the job and empty my head completely.
“When your daddy died, I stayed on a straight drunk for a week.”
I whip my head around, quickly wishing that I hadn’t as I stumble a bit on my feet.
“Whoa,” Tank says, a smile lighting his weathered face. “Take it easy, lightweight. No need to prove nothing to no one. You should pace yourself, ya know.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “This wasn’t my idea.” I realize my bandana has slipped from my hair, so I yank it off and start to wrap it around my neck.
Tank nods as he leans his back against the brick wall of the bar. “I know, girl. Jesse’s not doing such a good job conveying his…apologies.” I raise an eyebrow. “Look, he’s like a son to me. I’m his mentor, but I’ll be the first to admit he doesn’t have the first clue when it comes to, uh, expressing his feelings.” He says this last part like it tastes bad in his mouth, and I laugh.
“Please don’t tell me the MC is in group therapy or some shit,” I say. “I don’t think I could handle you guys being down with the times.”
He chuckles, long and deep. I’ve missed his laugh. It reminds me of when he and my dad would hang out in the dining room all night, playing cards and telling raunchy jokes. My heart pangs with so much loss.
“Hey, we’re trying,” he says, nudging me. “All I’m saying, Little Rider”—he winks at me, and the use of my father’s nickname almost brings on the tears—“is you have to give the man a break. He’s been in a black funk since that night, and he’s counting on you to help get him through this. He needs you. Every man needs a good woman, and I know you?
?re hurting, baby…but your daddy would want to see you settled with a good man. The two of you, you and Jess, could come out of this together and on top.” He places a hand on my shoulder, but I’m so shocked about the words leaving his mouth, I don’t even acknowledge the touch. “Take some time, then do what’s right by yourself. Don’t let your girl’s death ruin two lives.”
With that, he gives me a quick one-armed hug, pats my shoulder again, and nods his head. “I’ve got a lot more drinking to do before the track tomorrow. You going?”
And like that, the topic of my future prospects is over. I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I don’t have a bike. I might need to—”
“Use Jesse’s. It’s the least he can do. And he’ll help you replace your Breakout.”
He says this like it’s final. No arguing. So I say, “Sure. Sounds like a plan.” But my stomach is churning, and I’m wishing I had a ride right this minute. To get out of here and try to think through what’s happening.
“Good girl,” he says. Then he leaves me with my muddled thoughts.
For Christ’s sake…
I slap a hand over my mouth, feeling the rage bubbling up inside me about to spew everywhere. I don’t know what angers me more: the fact that my dad’s best friend is more concerned about his prospect getting the boot over how I’m handling the death of my best friend, or that the MC have clearly put Jesse’s future in my hands.
It’s fucking simple; if I become Jesse’s ol’ lady, then he’s innocent of Dar’s death. My acceptance will clear him in their eyes, and he’ll become a full-patch member. Shit fuck. I was going to back him anyway…at least, I think. But I don’t like being told I have to do something. Least of all, forced into some twisted relationship for the benefit of the MC.
I know Tank means well. Hell, he’s like a second father to me. But my dad never would’ve put on the pressure like this. My dad would never have wanted me to settle with one of the MC, anyway. He made that clear a long time ago, and it’s a rule I’ve always stuck to. One of the only ones I’ve ever followed.
It’s a good one for a reason, too. And I don’t plan on breaking it for anyone, not even my dad’s best friend.
This sucks. Getting older and growing up and seeing people in a whole new light fucking sucks.
People really are selfish assholes.
I suck up my butthurt feelings and toss my head back, determined not to let them see me crumble. I’ll mourn Dar in private. I’ll do what I have to until I get my ride and can get the hell out of here. No one dictates my choices.
The scary thing; I didn’t know how much I depended on Dar for added backbone until this moment. I was stronger when I was with her, when I was looking out for her. I’m horrible at taking care of just me.
