He holds my stare for a moment, neither one of us speaking until he finally comes back to himself, re-zipping his pants.
“You’re right. Not here. I have a better idea. Go clean up. You and I will be eating out tonight. Call Heidi. Tell her you’re sick and won’t make it.” I nod, watching him step back and run his fingers through his hair.
On shaky legs, I begin to walk back to our bedroom. The last thing I want to do is cancel on Heidi, especially on her birthday, but there is no other option. He won’t let me leave tonight, not after what just happened. He’s on the cliff and I don’t want to push him. For your safety, Mackenzie, don’t push him.
“Oh, and Mackenzie, you know how much I despise disrespect. Don’t make it hard on yourself. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.” A shiver runs through me at his words. It isn’t a threat, but a promise. One I know he will keep. I don’t know how but I have to get out of here. If the last four months have taught me anything, it’s that people don’t change.
I’ve been stupid to think he could.
Four
Beau
“You wanna tell me what the fuck’s going on, Beau.” Nix’s first words spoken since we took a seat at the club table don’t hold back his concern or frustration at what having Mackenzie here could possibly mean for us.
“I’m just as fucking surprised as you are, Nix.” I give it to him straight. The last thing I was expecting when I sat down for a quiet night was to have Mackenzie Morre walk into the clubhouse.
“Fuck. You know what this means? More fucking shit we don’t need.” He rubs his hands down his face roughly and I almost laugh at the predictable action from him. It’s his tell, something the asshole does every time he’s stressed and trying to regain his composure.
Nix has been Prez of this club for over ten years with me as his VP, and my best friend for even longer. Growing up together we never had plans to follow in our fathers’ footsteps, but when shit happened with a rival club, involving the death of Nix’s mother, our future was decided right then and there for us. I don’t regret it or hold on to any what ifs. There’s no reason to. We’ve always been family. Our choice was simple. I’ve seen the way our pops’ lived their lives, and while it wasn’t what I wanted, once Nix and I took the lead, life has been a hell of a lot better. We’ve grown both individually and with the club. We moved away from the illegal shit, and now we own three businesses that keep us busy. Only one said business just landed us in more shit. Shit we could do without.
“What do you want me to do? Tell her we can’t help her?” I pull my head out of the past to respond to him. The rest of the table is quiet as they let us talk this shit out. We don’t normally butt heads, both of us usually agree along the same lines, but if I have to go head-to-head with him over Mackenzie, I will.
“Just clue me in on where you’re at, Beau. What are we getting ourselves into here and for who?” His tone drops from pissed-off Prez to the friend who has always had my back, so I take a second to gather my thoughts and process this entire situation.
What is really going on here?
In the brief time my path crossed Mackenzie’s, we connected. It may have been fleeting, maybe even one-sided, but the night I took her out of her hell, something changed. Yes, my mission is to assist Tiny in helping women escape abusive homes, to aid anyone who truly needs the help of this club, but now having her back, what are my real motives? Part of me wants to say it’s my need to make sure we follow this through, ensure Chad Morre doesn’t win. But it’s more than that. Maybe it’s only a small ripple in a roaring sea, but it’s deeper than a simple act of service. This hold she has on me is something I’m not ready to acknowledge yet. I felt it the moment I picked her broken body up and placed her in the back of the van. When I held her in my arms and took her to the hospital for emergency surgery to fix the damage her fucking asshole husband caused her. But then I lost it all when we finally managed to move her to the next drop off point.
Knowing I wouldn’t see her again, it fucked with me in a way I haven’t experienced in a long time. Since…her. My sister.
“He’s messed up by her.” Sy, the quiet fucker of the bunch, speaks out, pushing all thoughts of Missy away. If anyone knows how messed up I am over Mackenzie, he would. He was there the night we saved her. Sy saw firsthand how affected I was by her.
“Don’t think you know what you’re talking about, brother.” I flick my gaze briefly to him, but don’t give him the pleasure of seeing what his words do to me.
Messed up is a fucking understatement.
“Ever since we picked her up, you haven’t been thinking right. Taking chances when you shouldn’t be. Bringing danger to the club because you aren’t executing well thought-out plans.” I keep my stare on Nix while Sy lays it out. I know he’s right. I fucking have. The shit I pulled a few months back with one of the Warriors’ women was dangerous, but he can hardly blame Mackenzie for it. That’s just me. I saw the woman in danger and I reacted.
“You done?” I ask when he stops throwing me under the bus.
“You gonna deny it?”
“I don’t have to fucking do anything. You think you understand, but you don’t. Any one of those women I’ve helped over the last two years walked into this clubhouse asking, seeking, fucking looking for help from us and I’m gonna do the same thing I’m doing right now for her.” I fold my arms in front of me waiting for his comeback. The room keeps quiet and I know he’s done.