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Rach pulled her arm away. “It’s too much. And I’m as guilty as any of you.”
“You’re not driving home,” Raze commanded.
“I only had one drink, and I had it an hour ago,” Rach stated.
“I don’t care. You’re not in a clear frame of mind. You’re not driving home. End of discussion.”
She glared at him.
“Give me your keys.”
“Fuck you, Raze,” she spat, turning and marching toward the clubhouse.
Raze made a move to go after her, but Logan shot up to stop him. “I’ll go. I’ll make sure she stays.”
Logan jogged after Rach, the two of them disappearing into the clubhouse.
“She’s right,” Joni said softly. She looked around the group of men and women. “We’re family and we let this go on for too long. We all knew what was happening and we did nothing.”
“That’s not fair,” Sutton said. “I saw what was happening before anyone else did. I told Rach. She was handling it because they shared a common experience.”
“So, you’re blaming Rach in all of this?” Joni asked.
“No. I’m just saying we were trying. I mean, how do you help someone who doesn’t want to be helped?” Sutton asked.
“I agree with Joni,” Brooklyn said. “We were all wrapped up in our own lives. We didn’t do enough for our friend. We shouldn’t have waited to do the intervention.”
“Were you going to be the one to tell her she couldn’t order tequila at the bachelorette party? Or drink at a girls’ hang out?” Willa asked. “Embarrass her in front of everyone? She’s an adult for God’s sake. You can’t just tell someone what to do.”
Tavy and I glanced at each other, sharing a look of awkward commiseration. We weren’t Old Ladies; we weren’t part of the club. And now we were witnessing them air their dirty laundry.
Hurtful words started to fly, people began speaking over each other, hurling accusations. Guilt permeated the entire conversation and anger began to brew.
I stood up and grabbed my clutch.
“Where are you going?” Bones asked me.
“I don’t belong here,” I said gently. “This isn’t—I shouldn’t be here.”
His eyes softened. “Stay.”
I looked at the Old Ladies who were facing off with each other, their men attempting to intervene, but it didn’t seem like they were able to.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “You belong here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t, really. I’m not an Old Lady, Bones. My heart aches for those kids—losing not just a father, but a mother, too? And so soon? I can’t listen to them blame each other. I won’t. And what if the kids don’t make it? That will destroy the Old Ladies.”
“What do you need right now? This is rough.”
“I need to leave. Spend the night with me. At my place. Your motorcycle is still there, anyway.” I looked again at the group of people. The accusations had ceased, but now men were holding their wives, offering them comfort as they cried for their friend.
I turned away, not wanting to see the devastation on their faces.
Caring about people hurt. It hurt so much.
“Bones,” Zip called. “Church.”
Bones nodded. “Be right there.”
