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“You and me both,” I murmured, going to my bed.
“Are we just supposed to sleep now?” he asked doubtfully.
“Just lay down, yeah? Might as well try. I’ll stay up for a while and make sure everything stays quiet.”
“It’s not like I won’t hear them if they get loud,” he muttered, lying back down on my floor.
I picked up my phone from the bed and noticed that Rumi had called two more times.
“What is wrong with Pop?” Bird asked.
I didn’t answer since I figured the question was rhetorical.
“Why would he say stuff like that to Nana?”
“I have no idea.”
“He loves her,” Bird said softly. “Heworshipsher.”
“He’s drunk,” I muttered.
“Still,” Bird whispered. “He’s been drunk before.”
“I gotta call Rumi back real quick,” I said, pulling up his contact information. “He’s probably drunk, too. He called three times. Give me just a minute.”
Chapter 15
Rumi
Nova had askedfor space. I knew what that meant. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that she wanted some time away from me and that she wasn’t going to be happy that I was calling her in the middle of the night. She was probably sleeping, which was why she hadn’t answered the first time. So I called back. Twice.
She probably didn’t want to hear from me, but I’d had a really fucking terrible night and I needed her. That’s it. I just flat-out needed her. I needed to hear her voice, and I needed to feel her arms around me, and I just needed her fucking presence.
Some loser had shown up at the club during the barbecue looking for my brother’s girlfriend Emilia saying that she’d stolen money from him. It turned out that she had taken the money, but he’d owed it to her anyway, so it was all bullshit. Our club president and my gramps and dad had sent the fucker on his way and told him not to come back—and we’d thought that was it.
Micky was understandably pissed, so I’d brought him to the house my dad was currently demolishing so he could work off that anger. My brother held everything inside until it was impossible to keep a lid on it and then he did some demo work. I would be willing to bet that he’d saved my dad thousands of dollars in flipping costs over the past few years, so it worked for everyone. It should’ve been no big deal. We’d done it fifty times at least and the physical exertion always calmed Micky down. Always.
Then, we’d gotten a call that the loser who’d followed Emilia had broken into Micky’s house and was waiting there for Emilia when she got home from the barbecue. He’d held her and Rhett at gunpoint until our little brother Otto had come inside and knocked him out.
By the time we got back to Micky’s, Emilia and my nephew were safe and the house was full of club members. After seeing that Emilia was in one piece with my own two eyes, I’d followed orders, finding the fucker’s car and helping to ensure that no one would ever trace him back to us.
And then I went home to my silent house, guilt making my skin feel itchy and tight. I paced. If I hadn’t taken Micky to the flip house, he still would’ve been with Emilia. I’d been so pumped to go with him, so ready to break some shit after all the things that had gone down with Nova that I hadn’t even considered that Emilia might still need Micky at her side. I’d been anxious as fuck to get out of the clubhouse and I’d been stoked for the excuse.
And if things had gone just a tiny bit differently, my little brother Otto, Emilia, and my nephew could have died.
Selfish. So fucking selfish.
And If I looked at myself closely, I’d see that I was still being a selfish fuck, calling Nova in the middle of the night after she’d asked me to leave her be.
Then she called back.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey Rumi, what’s up?” she asked. There was something in her voice, something I’d never heard before, something I couldn’t place.
“I need you, No,” I said with a sigh, stopping my pacing in the middle of my bedroom. “Can you come over?”
“I can’t tonight, Rum.”
