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Blame?
Derreck blinked, seemingly as shocked as Scotland. Scotland had heard the rumors of what had happened. People always talked, no matter the community. It had been years.
“I’m fine.” Clint crossed his arms. He clenched his fists, a few flakes of wax breaking off and dropping to the floor, immediately lost in the plush carpet.
“It wasn’t that long ago that you were walking through the rain with a polka dot umbrella to find me when Maddy was dropping. You weren’t happy that day, but you were calm. You knew who you were and what you wanted. Where is that man today?” asked Derreck, his voice breathtakingly cool.
What? Picturing Clint in polka dots was hilarious and ridiculous. Scotland had only ever seen him in tattered shirts and ragged jeans.
“And before that—before everything,” said Maddy, sniffing, “Nikita told me you used to patch him up at the hospital. He had a nickname for you there—Jester. You never let anyone leave before they laughed, even if you were sewing stitches into their skin. He’d pick fights, just to go see you.”
Scotland quirked his lips. Clint was funny, but in that subtle way of someone who didn’t know it. He never seemed to try to make people laugh. He just seemed too tired to accomplish that all the time.
Clint took a step back, his eyes wide. More wax dropped from him as his hands went slack. They were almost clean now, except for the burns that appeared even brighter. “I didn’t know—I mean—that can’t be right.”
Scotland didn’t blame his disbelief. The Nikita he knew was a badass mob enforcer with a twin brother who didn’t give two fucks.
“Everyone in this building is here because of you, one way or another,” said Maddy, taking the tissue that Derreck passed him. “But I feel like you haven’t been here for a long time. I can still see you, but it’s not really you. I didn’t know you when Ross was alive, but every story I hear, it’s like you were a different person back then.”
Can you blame him? Scotland could only imagine the sorrow of losing a close partner. Sometimes there was no moving on from that.
“You haven’t grieved,” said Derreck with utter finality. “And you are about to snap and lose everyone you love. I know because I’ve been there.”
Maddy sent Derreck a soft look, snuggling in closer. Scotland had heard all about them too and how they had come so close to breaking each other.
“I’m not,” Clint mumbled, his eyes shiny. “Maddy, I’m sorry I yelled at you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this place.” He looked away, dropping his gaze.
“No, I’m not,” said Maddy, laying his head against Derreck’s chest. “You are, Clint.”
Silence hung in the air, only broken by Maddy’s sniffles as he wiped his nose. Clint bit his lip as he clenched and unclenched his hands. The wax was nearly gone, his skin flared red and painful-looking. “You’re wrong.”
“No, he’s not,” said Scotland, pushing himself off the ground. His ass twinged as he moved, a reminder that he wasn’t in his twenties anymore.
Clint narrowed his eyes. “Stay out of this, punk. I’m not sceneing with you and I’m certainly not going to fuck you. Get that through your head.”
Ouch. Is that all Clint thinks I want? He was so, so wrong. “If you won’t take care of yourself, someone has to.”
It was a low blow, even for him. Clint was a grown-ass, independent man, and Scotland knew well enough that he wasn’t needed.
Clint brought up one hand, pushing a single finger into Scotland’s chest. He wanted to grab that hand and kiss the soft, delicate spot on his wrist, but he was frozen, too caught to hope to move.
Clint was the only one who had ever made him feel that way.
“You know what? Fuck you, punk. Get out of my fucking club. I don’t want to see your face here ever again.” Clint’s eyes were blazing, rage carved into his features as Scotland’s heart sank. His friends and people he considered family were all here and Clint had the power to take that all away in a heartbeat. He just never thought he would.
Well, shit.
Chapter Five
Clint
Vacation. The word was practically poisonous—and even worse than a nightmare wrapped in broken limits. He hadn’t taken a vacation as a nurse, and he certainly didn’t need one from the club. But Maddy’s suggestion of therapy had been even worse. If I let a therapist in, I’ll be committed for sure.
“I’m so excited for you,” said Maddy, grasping Clint’s smaller bag from the trunk and tossing it over his shoulder. Clint grabbed the second one, pushing out a sigh as he let it thud to the gravel road. There were weeds growing through the road in large patches, some stretching higher than his waist where they’d burst through the crushed rock.
And the potholes had made Maddy crawl along in the car, barely getting over walking speed as they’d rocked back and forth. It was made for a truck with big axles and more testosterone than dick.
Clint let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Where the hell am I? There was no way that a vacation was what he needed, but it was only slightly better than the alternative of Derreck’s first choice.
