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“God, no!” Graveyard sounds appalled, like I’d just committed a faux pas.
I raise my brows at him. “Why are you stalling then?”
Graveyard shrugs hesitantly. “It’s just…I…I have some personal concerns,” he stutters. I wonder what’s got Graveyard unsettled – he never stumbles over his words.
“You seem…exhausted, Prez,” Graveyard says finally, searching my eyes with his. He shrugs uncertainly. “I don’t know if that’s the right word for it.”
“If heavy bones and a shitty headache mean exhaustion, then you’re right on track, doc,” I reply with a sigh. “With my sergeant at arms locked up in detention and Code Enforcement breathing down my neck, it’s no surprise, right? Just hook me up with painkillers, and I’ll be on my journey.”
Graveyard doesn’t seem to share in my amusement. He shakes his head solemnly at me. “No. It’s way beyond physical pain, Pocus. I’ve been watching you for a while now. Most days, you seem out of sorts. Now, don’t get me wrong…I know your responsibilities as the club president are no joke, but it’s so unlike you to be so…detached. You can talk to me, Prez. This is a safe place, you know?”
“You’re a therapist now?” I ask with a small snort, trying to hide the growing trepidation in the pit of my stomach. Graveyard isn’t wrong. Even before the eviction notice and Bones’ issue, I’ve been getting pulled more and more into my past. I wake up from one nightmare only to realize I’m in another. It goes on and on in an endless vicious loop that intertwines my present and my past until I’m barely able to distinguish my reality from the life I left behind – one from which I’d run so fast and hard. I wake irritated, barely able to hold down the urge to kill everything in my way.
I thought I hid my emotions pretty well, but it turns out Graveyard has been watching. Makes me wonder how many more of my men have similar questions.
“I’m your doctor,” Graveyard replies. He sighs softly, his eyes softening considerably. “But before that, I’m your brother. I’m willing to share your burdens.”
I resist the urge to scoff at the doctor. I wish it were easy for me to lay out my feelings in mere words – as if that can burn away years of anger and shame of being rejected over and over again. The club took me in, but only after I developed a cynical view of the world. And I’ve had to work my way up to acceptance – oh, I worked hard.
I’m just about to give Graveyard another flippant response when a curt knock on his door saves me the stress. The door is pushed open, and my VP peeps into the room.
“Hey,” Seer greets, looking from me to Graveyard and back to me. “Can I come in? Is this a good time?”
“Come on in, mon ami,” I say to Seer, waving him in cheerfully. He’d saved me the trouble of having to deal with the doctor’s probing questions. I can still feel Graveyard’s eyes on me, but I ignore him. I just have to be more careful…it seems my demons are playing too close to the surface.
“You were here,” Seer says, coming into the room. He picks an empty stool and drops it beside the examination table where I’m sitting. His eyes searched my face just like Graveyard had minutes ago. I can’t help but feel like a subject under observation – scrutinization is more like it.
“You good, Prez?” Seer asks. I can hear the genuine concern in his voice.
“Yeah, just a bad headache,” I reply, managing a smile. “But Graveyard here seems to think I need a therapy session.”
“Doesn’t everyone around here?” Graveyard says with a quiet snort.
“I didn’t see you anywhere around here last night?” Seer says quietly, his bright blue eyes fixated on mine as if to catch every flickering emotion.
“I was out in town,” I reply. “The whole clubhouse was asleep, and I needed some air.”
Deep hazel eyes….
Bloody red lips….
The pictures flash in my head without warning, bringing along with them painfully vivid memories of the night before. I’ve tried not to think about her or even the Den of Eden. Impossible; she’s been pushing at the edges of my mind all morning, clamoring for validation.
Something about those eyes.
She makes me want to go back there. That’s ridiculous. I never feel like returning to that shithole. Visiting the Den of Eden is an indulgence I regret because it brings me right back to a time in my past when I was lost and wild. Those days before I joined the Ruthless Kings.
“You alright?” Seer asks, pulling my mind away from its sinking thoughts.
“Yeah,” I say with a jerky nod. I adjust in my seat and clear my throat quietly. “I’m good. You worry too much, both of you.”
“As we should,” Seer replies. “All this eminent domain business and Bones… it must be a lot of pressure.”
“It’s quite bothersome, alright,” I concede with a resigned sigh. “But I know very well that I’m not alone in this. So, if you both will just stop worrying, Graveyard can give me some painkillers, and I can be on my way to Grey’s office.”
“I’ll go with you,” Seer says immediately.
“No,” I say firmly.
