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I pull back, searching his eyes. What does he mean,I’m wrong?
“Your nana loved to bake, sure. But not as much as you. She did it because you loved it so much. That isyourdream, babe. Don’t take it from yourself.”
I nod, laying my head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart through all of the bone and muscle.
“I love you, Emmett Mack.”
“I love you, Lilah Jane Mack.”
My lips twitch in a smile, and I press a kiss to his chest before allowing my eyes to close in exhaustion.
nineteen
Ringer
“Please tellme you can tell me what the fuck is going on?” I lean against the bar at the clubhouse next to my brother as he nurses a beer. He turns a frown my way and shakes his head with a sigh.
“I wish I could, Ring. I’m just as lost in all this as you.”
“They blew up her fucking bakery, man.”
The fire marshall ruled the bakery fire as arson. The small explosives weren’t bomb grade, but they were dangerous enough paired with the appliances they were placed in, which caused all of Trigger’s injuries. He has a nasty gash on his face, and the skin on his left arm has some pretty brutal burns. Luckily, that’s all that happened to him that day. He could’ve been much worse off. I’m thankful, not only because he’s one of my brothers, but he has Pebbles and the twins depending on him.
Just like the cameras in the streetlights when Horse was in his accident, and when Trigger’s Bel-Air was vandalized, the cameras on our entire street were down until Tiny got them back up and running. Just like those instances, none of the cameras were working again on the day of the bakery fire. Trigger even let us know last night during church that he saw some down wires when he got there.
Tiny is beside himself, trying to figure out who the hell is outsmarting him and his security measures.
“I fucking know, Ring. Don’t you think I want to figure out who the fuck is messing with my club? My family?” He sighs and finishes his last swig of beer. “I want to figure out who the fuck is doing this, and first and foremost, find out why, and then I want to fucking kill them,” he says with a growl.
I nod, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Ghost scowls at me as he takes off in the direction of his office.
I left Lilah at home in bed this morning, and I’m starting to think I should’ve never left her. It’s been a week since the fire, and yet I still haven’t seen a true smile on her face. It’s starting to eat at me.
The only time she seems even remotely happy, or maybe content is a better word, is at night, right before bed, when I hold her in my arms. If I could put her in my pocket and protect her from the entire world, I would. It fucking sucks that she’s hurting, and there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about it.
Reaper drops down into the seat that Ghost just vacated. I greet him with a chin lift before turning to take my own beer off the bar.
“How’s she doing?” he asks.
I let out a sigh. “Not good, Reap.”
Reaper frowns. “What can I do?”
I force out a chuckle. “I’m asking that same damn question, brother.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I agree, draining the rest of my bottle. “Fuck.”
Trigger steps up next to us, nodding in thanks at the club girl that hands him his own drink.
“Is she at least getting out of bed?” Reaper asks.
“Not much, man. I’m almost to the point of dragging her out by her feet.”
Reaper and Trigger chuckle. “Tried that eight years ago, Ring. It only makes it worse.”
Even though part of me knows he’s referencing when I went away, I tell myself it was for another reason, reminding myself that her nana passed and Sparrow moved that same year. Imagining that I wasn’t to blame for her depression is the only thing that’s keeping me going. I don’t know if I could handle taking responsibility for that on top of everything else that’s happening right now.
