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Examining her coat without her here feels too intimate. But I do it anyway. It’s shabby and worn. A hole in one sleeve. Another hole in the right pocket. A few dimes and nickels rattle around in the other pocket. I shove my hand in and pull out the change, a tube of lip balm, and a card for a hair appointment three months ago. The salon’s actually out in Johnsonville near the apartment the club rented for me. Maybe she lives out that way?
For fuck’s sake, what’s my end game? Stalking her at her hair salon? Fucking pathetic.
I jam the stuff back in her pocket and drop the coat on the hook again. I’ll bring it with me to our next appointment.
Downstairs is empty now, except for Rock. Sitting back and relaxed like a fucking emperor observing his empire.
Whether he happened to be here or he’s waiting around for me, I’m not sure. I can take a guess, though. For some reason, his presence pisses me off. My irritation over my visit to Rose returns with a vengeance.
“Did you know?” I ask, thundering down the last few steps.
He cocks his head and answers slowly. “Know what?”
“That Rosie moved on years ago. Married. Had a kid.”
He drops his head and mutters, “Fuck.”
“So you knew?”
“I suspected.” He drills me with a narrow-eyed glare. “She made it clear she didn’t want me coming around, Gray. Threatened to call the cops if I did.”
“Shit, really?” Rosie was pretty pissed back then. Wouldn’t put it past her.
“Yeah, and I didn’t need the hassle while I was on parole.” He spreads his hands in front of him. “If you remember, I had enough club business to deal with. You were adamant that I keep sending her money, so I did. She cashed the checks; I never looked any deeper than that.”
He’s right. It wasn’t his job to spy on my wife. He did what I asked. Some MC presidents would’ve made warming their bed a condition of sending any money. I knew Rock would never do that.
It’s my own fault. The minute those divorce papers went through, I should’ve told him to stop paying her. Guilt wouldn’t allow me to make that call.
I drop down on the couch next to him so we’re facing each other at an angle. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” The grief in his eyes rakes over me like jagged stones.
“Stop giving me pity eyes, you little fuck,” I growl.
A slight smirk curls his lips. “It’s not pity, ya old fuck.”
Now we’re back on familiar ground.
“And there’s nothing little about me,” he adds.
“You’ll always be little to me, Rock. Sorry.”
He shakes his head, laughing. “Missed you, Gray. Felt it every day. Hated leaving you behind.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “You did good, though. Proud of you.”
“I’m so damn glad you’re here to see it. I used to—” He snaps his mouth shut and it doesn’t take a genius to know what he was about to say.
“Worry I wouldn’t make it out alive?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“I’m here. No plans on going back.”
“I won’t let you go back,” he says solemnly. “Sorry I didn’t visit more.”
“You came when you could. Did everything I asked. I know what a pain in the balls it was to get cleared to see me.” I fake a smile. “Since we were partners in crime and all.”
Truth was, sometimes his visits made everything worse. Only reminded me of what I couldn’t have. But I don’t want to lay any more guilt on his shoulders. He carries a heavy enough load.
“She got married?” Rock winces. “Has a family?”
“Yeah, and dumb fuck that I am, I actually thought the kid might be mine.”
He frowns.
“She’s a teenager.”
His jaw tightens. “I should’ve told you what you wanted to hear but stopped sending her money.”
“I’ll repay the club.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Fifteen years is a long damn time to expect a woman to wait.” Now that the fantasy’s been shattered, the pain isn’t as sharp as I expected. “I’m disappointed, but I don’t blame her for moving on.”
He’s not ready to let it go. “She could’ve told you.”
I shrug. “The divorce was a pretty big fucking hint.”
“Glad you managed to keep your sense of humor.” He stands and motions for me to follow him into the war room.
No one else is in there. I step up to the chair at the head of the table, running my hand over the carved wood. “I still can’t believe you kept this thing.”
He stares at it for a few beats. “It reminds me to never become like him.”
“Figured that’s why you still had it.” So he could mentally flog himself every time he looks at it. I slap the back of the chair. “That’s exactly why you’re the one who should be sitting at the head of the table.”
He grunts a noise of agreement. Yeah, he wasn’t asking for my opinion on the matter. Still thought he needed to hear it.
