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“Let’s just say, they took me in as a favor to someone. And I’m starting to feel as though I’m overstaying my welcome.”
“So why do you stay?” I notice the way she scratches at her arms, the girl always wears long sleeves. I’m guessing it's to hide the track marks. Lucille told me all about her past after book club last week. It made me wonder how Danny got involved with her, especially since she’s so much younger than him.
And I wonder if she still craves the fix, if she’ll always be weak to it.
“I have no place else to go,” she admits with watery eyes and a sad smile.
I see her vulnerability, and suddenly understand why my brother fell in love with her. Danny always did like to fix broken things. He kept a bird’s nest in Dad’s shed for a whole month when he was in fifth grade. The Mama bird had flown into our conservatory window and died. He was convinced they’d hatch out if he kept them warm enough, but they never did.
I want to do more for Abby… I will do more for her because that’s what I promised my brother. Bringing down Hawker and helping Abby is all I can do for him now, and I won’t fail either task.
“My parents want me to go back to them, but I can’t. They’re so ashamed that their perfect little girl turned out to be a junkie and a college dropout. It wouldn’t be the same, and I can’t live up to the expectations they’d have. The club pay me to work there, I got my own cabin. I’m not complaining, the Souls have been so good to me.” Abby takes another sip of her wine, and her sad smile does nothing to convince me.
“What did you mean about not belonging to anyone?” I ask again, curious as to what she was getting at.
“The club are a family, and I ain't part of that family. Nyx cares about me because his wife used to be my best friend. Brax invested a lot of his time getting me clean, so I guess he has an interest, but aside from that, I'm just a fixture there. As long as I keep the drinks poured, no one would notice if I’m there or not.”
“I doubt that’s true.”
“That’s why I like speaking to Robbie. He asks me questions; he wants to know about me. Even if there’s not much to tell.”
“It’s good that you have someone to talk to,” I tell her, wondering what the future holds for this girl.
“And now I have you too, which is why you have to tell me exactly what you and Squealer got up to on your date.” I see a glint in Abby’s eyes. She’s genuinely excited.
“Nothing like what you think. We talked a little. I actually had a good time,” I admit. “Nothing’s gonna come of it though, the cop and the local bad boy biker is just a horror story in the making.” I blush.
“So tell your story differently.” Abby stares back at me seriously. “Alex, I didn't come here to get all deep and personal with you, and I may be a total screw-up myself, but at least I know where I went wrong. If I could rewrite my own story, I know where I’d make all the changes.”
“Where?” I ask, sensing that I know what’s coming.
“Someone tried to help me out, someone real fucking special. I twisted his kindness and made it into his weakness. I had no patience back then. I was a spoiled, immature brat. And I’ll never have the chance to tell him how sorry I am for it.”
She’s talking about Danny, and I feel a chill in my spine as tears pinch my eyes. There’s a silence between us that neither of us knows how to fill, and eventually, Abby wipes away a stray tear as it streams onto her cheek.
“Anyway, that’s enough about that. I wanna know all about how Squealer treats a girl on a date.” She smiles through her pain and tries to change the subject.
“He’d forgive you.” Reaching out, I take her hand in mine, she doesn’t know it, but I can tell her that with confidence. Danny was the most forgiving person in the world. I squeeze her tight in my fist, hoping it will comfort her. “You’re already making it up to him by turning your life around,” I assure her.
“I wish I could see him one more time,” she whispers weakly.
“So do I,” the words slip out before I can stop them, and Abby immediately blinks at me in confusion. “I mean… I wish I could meet the person who helped you.” It’s a lame attempt, but it seems to work.
“Danny was a great guy. I’ll never know what the hell he saw in me, but he saved me more than once.” Holding Abby’s hand in mine and hearing her feels like therapy. She’s proof that he existed, another person he left an impression on in this world. And it makes me cling to her for way longer than is socially acceptable.
“Did you decide on a course to study?” I ask, managing to pull myself away and compose myself. Danny would be proud of her for not giving up, for trying to make something of the life she fought for. I’ve already decided I’ll support her in any way I can.
“I think I’ve narrowed it down to three. I was kinda hoping I could pick your brains about it.” She smiles awkwardly at me.
“If you think I’d be of any use, I’d love to help.” I smile back, and for the first time since I’ve been in town, I get a rush of confidence. The kind that makes me feel like I made the right decision by being here.
Riding back from Dallas got me feelin’ pretty damn smug. While visiting Mom and Auntie Claudette, conversations with the Texas Charter had gone well. The new deal won’t just keep Burlusconi happy, it’ll make the club a shit ton of money in the process. And Prez is gonna flip his dick when he realizes whose pockets we’ll be snatching from when we introduce Dallas to the high-quality shit Burlusconi provides.
We’re only a forty-five-minute ride from home, and I’m looking forward to kicking back with the boys and sharing some of the block I got to bring back with us as a thank you from the boys in Texas.
I’ve always enjoyed a good ride out, and some of Mama’s home-cooked food had been just what I needed to clear my head of that dirty little deputy. I tried, but I couldn’t even fuck that bitch from my mind. It seems no matter where I could be sticking my dick these days, that prim and proper little face of hers was always taunting me. I didn’t even fuck one of Nolan's whores, and everyone knows southern chicks are a wild breed of their own.
I notice a Honda parked up on the side of the road, but what has me slowing down is the woman propped up against it. Cowgirl boots, blue jeans, and a tight white tank top clinging to the upper half of the damn perfect body under her leather jacket. There’s that face again, the same face that’s been fuckin’ with my brain for weeks. And seeing her again makes me understand why. She looks like she was fuckin’ made for me.
