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I’d hidden long enough and as I sat there on the side of my bed in my tiny little room, it became very clear to me that Bird and I couldn’t stay another night in the same house as Pop. I loved Nana, and I wanted her with us, but I knew deep in my gut that she wouldn’t leave him.
Something was wrong with Pop. Something huge and personality-altering. It killed me that the man I’d counted on for so long had turned into some kind of monster. I was so confused and heartbroken, and the strangest thing about it was that I didn’t even hate Pop for what he’d done to me. More than anything, I was devastated—for all of us.
The bottom line was that I couldn’t help Pop, and I couldn’t wait to see if things would get better. I loved my grandfather so much that the thought of never seeing him again felt like something was being torn from me, but the alternative was worse. Eventually, he’d kill one of us and I couldn’t let that happen.
Filled with purpose, I got to my feet and slowly got ready for the day. Every second that I was showering and dressing and trying to cover the evidence of Pop’s abuse, I was listening for the front door to open. Terror was replaced by adrenaline as I planned out what my next steps would be.
The barbecue was in full swing when I arrived and I had to take a moment to brace myself before I climbed out of my car. People were going to ask questions and Bird was going to lose his mind, but I had to reassure everyone that everything was fine. If the situation blew up while I was stuck on club grounds, I’d never be able to get Bird and leave. I needed the barbecue for cover, I needed the distraction it provided.
When I finally got out of the car, it felt like there was a neon sign lit up above my head telling everyone to look at me. Club members and their families had seen it all and lived with their eyes wide open and there wasn’t a single person I encountered that didn’t notice my black eye first and my smile second.
I tripped on our stupid porch.
Had a little too much last night. Haha.
Guess who’s clumsy when she drinks?
You should see the other guy. No, but seriously, I tripped…
It actually doesn’t even really hurt. I hit my head on the porch.
I made the rounds looking for Bird outside but I couldn’t find him anywhere. Before I could go inside to look, I was stopped by a gentle hand on my arm.
“Oh, Nova,” Brenna breathed, her eyes taking in my face and scanning the rest of me. My other bruises were well covered, but it was as if she knew that there were more and she could see them.
“I tripped,” I said flatly. I didn’t even try to be convincing because we both knew that I was lying.
“We’ll take care of this,” she said, sliding her hand down my arm to give my hand a squeeze. “Where’s Ash? Is she okay?”
“She’s at work,” I replied, looking around. Pop was standing at one of the huge barbecues talking to a group of men. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday. Do you know where Bird is?”
“I think he went inside with some of the kids,” she replied, still holding my hand. “How can I help you right now?”
I shook my head, ignoring how it made my face throb. “I don’t need any help.”
“I’m going to talk to Dragon,” she murmured.
“You do that.” I almost laughed.
While I understood the importance of Pop’s club and the family that they represented, I knew that they couldn’t do shit to stop my grandfather. If the look in my Nana’s eyes hadn’t stopped him whenever he raged and the knowledge that she would hate him if he hurt us didn’t stop him either—anything the Aces did wasn’t going to make a damn bit of difference.
I made my way toward the clubhouse, refusing to look Pop’s way again because I was terrified to meet his eyes. Before I could reach the door, Meg stopped me.
“What the hell happened to you?” she gasped, her eyes wide.
“I had a couple and tripped on our front porch,” I said with a laugh, mimicking the way I’d supposedly fallen. “I’m fine.”
“That looks really painful.” She grimaced. Her eyes moved from my face to over my shoulder and I knew without her saying a word that someone was coming up behind me.
I didn’t expect it to be Rumi, but when I saw the look on his face, I had to get the fuck out of there.
He caught me. Of course he did. He demanded answers. I wasn’t surprised by that. It was almost a relief to show him the bruises on my back and thigh. It was as if in some part of my mind, I’d felt like I was overreacting, but his reaction convinced me that I wasn’t. They were bad. The horror on his face broke my heart, but it comforted me, too. For the first time in months, it felt like he was in my corner again, that it was me and Rumi against the world with Bird hidden safely behind us.
He begged and pleaded and demanded to know who’d hurt me but I still couldn’t tell him. It was still too raw. Too inconceivable. How could I say out loud that it had been Pop? Rumi loved him almost as much as I did.
And then, because I couldn’t take it anymore, because Rumi was desperate and I was devastated and because I needed to tell someone—I told him.
He didn’t believe me.
