Her harsh words hit home. The headway that I’ve made within myself over the last few months shrivels and dies. She’s right. There’s no coming back from this for us.
Will I be able to find a way to make it up to any of the Shamrocks?
“I’m sorry, Maddi.”
“Sorry fixes nothing,” she sneers. “You’re clean and doing okay. My twin’s slowly killing himself because he feels guilty about hurting you and he can’t deal with you cutting him out of your life.”
“What? I never cut him out. He didn’t even try to visit me when I was in detox. You all tried but Benji didn’t even bother.”
“You’re so freaking deluded. So selfish, it’s unbelievable.” Maddi jumps to her feet and her bar stool hits the floor behind her when it topples over. “What do you think he was doing while you were in detox? He was going through withdrawal. Here! On his bloody own. We sat with him. All of us; we tried to help him but there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. He went through it without the assistance of nurses and meds to make it easier—”
“I didn’t think—”
“Of course, you didn’t. You were too busy blaming everything on the Shamrocks. The stuff your Dad was accusing us of was horrible.”
The tears that I successfully fought off earlier return with a vengeance and I drop my head into my hands. This isn’t going the way I thought it would. I came here for validation—a pat on the back for getting clean—and for forgiveness. I wanted to feel better about myself, not worse.
“Benji was clean for over three weeks,” Maddi whispers. Her voice is raspy, thin and brittle. “I thought he was going to be okay.”
“I didn’t know.” I feel like a broken record, repeating myself.
“Do you know what set him off?”
My head still bowed, I stare at the dark, scratched wood of the bar. I have a feeling I don’t want to know the answer to this question.
“No, I don’t.” I mumble.
“When your dad lifted the ban on the Club visiting you, Benji thought he’d be able to come with us. I had to tell him that you said he wasn’t welcome. He lost his shit, and after a massive fight with Joel, he punched Timber and Smoke and stole the Club’s van. He’ll let me and JJ in his house, but that’s it. Every time, I try to bring Timber or Smoke in, he starts fighting and then he’ll disappear for days.”
As Maddi’s words sink in, I raise my head sharply.
“I never said he wasn’t welcome.” My voice is shrill as I set her straight. “Dad said he couldn’t come until I proved I was going to cooperate.”
“That’s not what your mom told me when she phoned to say the ban was lifted.”
I can’t believe this. I’ve spent the last four months yearning for Benji. Wishing for the chance to tell him that I’m sorry and craving one last time in his arms, yet the entire time I thought he wanted our separation, it’s actually been caused by a stupid misunderstanding.
“I don’t know what she told you but I swear I wanted to see him. I argued with my parents until they said that he hadn’t tried to contact me when the rest of you did.”
“I told you why—”
“I know that now. I didn’t back then.” With wide eyes, I implore her to believe me. Relief streaked with a growing amount of panic grips me and I push to my feet. “I need to see Benji. I can fix this for all of us.”
When I rush out from behind the bar, Maddi moves to intercept me. Holding me in place with an iron grip on the top of my arm, she glares down at me.
“There’s no damn way you’re going anywhere near him.”
Shaking my head in disagreement, I try to shrug my arm out of her hold. She doesn’t let go. For someone who resembles a twig at the moment, she’s still damn strong. Even when I attempt to leave a second time, I’m unsuccessful. She tightens her grasp, fingernails digging into my exposed flesh.
“Did you not hear me?” she asks. “He’s barely holding on. Seeing you could send him over the edge. I’m not taking that chance.”
“Maddi, I don’t want to hurt him. I want to help him. Can’t you see that I might be the only person who can?”
Bunching her free fist, she waves it at me. A splinter of genuine fear pierces me and I shrink away from her, scared that she’s going to hit me. Shock and sympathy crosses her features for a split second before she shakes her head at me.
“No,” she tells me again. “I don’t trust you. You’ve lied to me too much. Hell, you still haven’t told me where you two got the drugs from. The Shamrocks have shut down everyone we can think of and he’s still getting them. It has to be the same dealer as before.”
Jesus Christ, it hadn’t even crossed my mind that Benji would still be getting his drugs from them. She’s going to kill me when I tell her the truth. Desperation overcoming me, I claw at Maddi’s hand until she lets go of my arm. Backing away from her, I hold my hands in the air.
“Please hear me out before you snap,” I beg.
The entrance to the bar swings open and voices fill the room. I hear Timber’s deep voice commanding attention over everyone else. Thank goodness, someone sensible is here to save me from her.
Advancing on me, her face is red with rage, her mouth contorted into a lethal-looking scowl.
“You fucking bitch! You know where he’s getting it, don’t you?”
I back up further. I know I have to tell her; however, I can’t bring myself to say the words. After what they’ve done to her, to the Shamrocks, and most importantly to Mad Dog, what Benji and I have done by buying from them is the ultimate betrayal. It eclipses our other sins, sending our disloyalty into a new realm.
Like the wildcat she’s often accused of being, Maddi senses my hesitation and pounces. Throwing herself at me, she knocks me onto my back. Straddling my waist, she slaps at my face. I cover myself with my hands, aware that she’s only toying with me at present. I’ve seen her in action and this is nothing on what she can do.
“Princess. What the fuck are you doing?” Timber yells as he lifts her off of me.
Smoke helps me to my feet and tries to move me away from Maddi, toward the relative safety of the other Shamrocks who’ve come into the Clubhouse with them. I struggle out of his hold and close the distance between us. I’m wary of getting too close, but I trust Timber to keep her off of me no matter how much she keeps struggling.
“I’m telling you now because I want to help you help him. I couldn’t tell you before because I wasn’t ready to lose you all. I’m so sorry. I know I keep saying that but I truly am.” I sound ridiculous, constantly apologizing for the inexcusable like it might have a chance of fixing anything. Once this is out, there’s no coming back from it. I’m going to lose the entire Club and more-than-likely any shot I had with Benji. They’re probably going to turn their backs on him as well—or worse.
“Shove your petty excuses up your fat ass,” Maddi screams, attempting to get free from Timber once again. I knew she was going to get mad, but I wasn’t expecting her to completely lose it. “Just tell me so we can end them.”
Biting my lip, I drag in a lungful of oxygen through my nose. Exhaling slowly, I open my mouth to say the words that are going to send my life—and the Shamrocks spiraling out of control.
“We got it from Connor,” I begin.
Maddi snorts at me, unimpressed by me blaming a dead man. She’s about to say something when Timber puts his hand over her face.
I lift one side of my mouth to acknowledge his assistance. He dismisses me with a shake of his head, muted anger in his ice-blue eyes.
“He was getting it from Shadow, who was getting it from the Mavericks.”
Muttering breaks out among the assembled bikers at the mention of their rivals. Timber shoots me a glare filled with disappointment and malice as he connects the dots before everyone else. His look makes me want to hide under the table.
“No. God, no.” Maddi’s agile mind sees where I’m heading and her despair for her twin increases.
“When Co
nnor disappeared, Benji and I were left without a supplier. We weren’t using together in the beginning so I don’t know where he got it from then. I went a while without doing anything but as my bills mounted up and I found it harder and harder to deal, I needed someone to buy it from. I knew some of the Mavericks so I asked around until one of them hooked me up. Since I was Connor’s Old Lady they weren’t too suspicious of me.”
I have everyone’s attention. The hostility in the bar is increasing with every word I utter, but I’m determined now that I’ve started, I’m telling them everything—even if my confession is reminding all of us of a time we’d rather not discuss.
“Once Benji and I started getting high together, the amount I needed to purchase increased but they wouldn’t sell that much to me because it could bring them onto the Shamrocks radar. They wanted me to bring Benji to a deal so they had something to use against you guys if word got out. I asked him, and he agreed. That’s how we started buying off of them.”
Pausing, I wait for the explosion I’m expecting from Maddi. Nothing is forthcoming. I watch her for a moment as she rests her back against Timber’s chest. With his hand still across her mouth and her refusal to meet my eyes, I can’t tell if she’s even listening to me.
“Once they had that on us, it didn’t take them long before they started to talk about Benji selling to his mates at his footy club. Once he started doing that for them, they began hinting about me selling at my university. Benji put his foot down over that, thankfully.”
I close my eyes, relieved that almost everything is out in the open. My respite lasts for less than a second because Maddi lets out a shriek of pure fury and elbows Timber in the ribs. He lets go of her with a bellow of pain and she charges for me again. This time I have nowhere to go. There’s a wall of Shamrocks behind me and the pool table to my right.
“You stupid bitch,” she screams at me as she gets in my face. My back hits a hard chest and I’m trapped between them and Maddi. Knowing the Shamrocks policy on hurting women, I realize that, while none of them are going to get physical revenge on me themselves, they’re not going to step in and stop her from beating me.
“Do you know what you’ve done? Benji’s dead whichever way he goes. If the Mavericks don’t get him, the Shamrocks will.”
What can I say to her? She’s right. We both knew this was a possibility when he agreed to their offer.
“I fucking hate you. If he dies, I’ll make sure you do as well,” Maddi promises.
I watch in horror as certainty fills her face and she embraces the idea of being responsible for my death. Balling her hand into a fist, she punches me in the eye with unexpected strength. Pain blooms in my cheek and I lift a hand to hold my eye. Before thoughts of getting out of her reach have time to enter my mind, she’s drawn her hand back and struck me again.
This blow rocks me. Shooting stars cross my vision and my sight dims. A third blow glances off my temple and I’m vaguely aware of someone wrestling her away from me while she screams incoherently.
Dizziness overcomes me, and the agony in my face increases in response to the attention I’m paying it. My legs turn to jelly, and I wobble on the spot before complete darkness eats the stars bursting across my eyesight and everything turns black.
My legs give out and I slide toward the floor. Strong arms grab me around the waist and lower me the rest of the way, easing me down gently.
As I take refuge in the shadow-filled nothingness that’s calling my name, I hear Maddi’s final words.
“She’s going to pay for this. I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LACEY
Present Day
My hand hangs in the air as indecision takes hold.
I shouldn’t be here, yet I know there’s nowhere else in this world that I should be more.
Lowering my knuckles to the door, I knock twice. Pause. Then knock three more times. It’s our secret greeting, the one that tells the other that the coast is clear.
I wait, butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I imagine the greeting I’m about to receive. My anxiousness increases as nothing happens. I can’t hear a sound and nothing moves behind the frosted glass paneling in the door.
I consider knocking again but decide against it.
Maybe his absence is a sign from the universe that I need to let this go?
Wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to ease the icy cold that’s invaded my bones since my run-in with Maddi, I turn away from the door. Head down, I start down the path toward my car.
“Why are you here?”
Spinning on my heel, I turn in the direction of his voice. Benji’s standing in the open doorway of his house, swaying drunkenly in place. His words are slurred and slow to leave his mouth. My hand flies to my throat as I fully appreciate the state he’s in.
Maddi was right. He’s a mess. If I’m honest, he’s more than a mess. He looks like death is haunting him, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike. His black hair is curling where it touches his shoulders and he has weeks’ worth of scruff covering his face. Hollow cheeks, black rings under his eyes, and chapped lips complete the picture of a man in desperate need of a savior.
As bad as he looks, it’s the look in his eyes that breaks my heart. Before me stands a man who’s given up, his defeat clear for all to see. From his slumped shoulders to the hangdog air that surrounds him, there’s no hope left in Benji.
We stare at each other. Our gazes saying more than we’ve ever said with words.
Licking my dry lips, I finally answer his question. “I’m here to say sorry.”
It takes every ounce of courage I have to take the first step in his direction, although once I’ve made that first move I can’t stop myself from rushing toward him. He stands dead still, one hand on the door knob and the other hanging at his side, when I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head into his bony chest. I won’t lie, he smells as if he hasn’t bathed for days, his t-shirt is sticky, and he feels nothing like the strong man I know since he’s trembling like a newborn lamb as I hold him, yet I swear that touching him feels as if I’ve come home.
The craziest part of this? It’s discovering that as in love with Connor as I was, as blind to his faults as I could be, his soul never called to mine like Benji’s does—even though he stands before me, warts and all.
“Can I come inside?”
“Yes,” he breathes the word against the top of my head. I let him go and grab his hand. Pulling him inside, I hold my breath as the chaos of his home greets me. Benji’s never been the tidiest, but between Maddi, Wendy, and Joel some semblance of cleanliness was maintained. Not anymore. Overflowing ashtrays, empty beer bottles, pizza boxes, and various drug paraphernalia cover every surface. He’s obviously been sleeping on the couch—when he does sleep, since it doesn’t look to me as if that’s been much recently—because the pillows and bedding that’s normally in his room lay haphazardly on it.
Swallowing, I psych myself up to risk drawing in a breath of the stale air polluting the room. It smells like an old gym, sweaty, musty—just disgusting.
Jesus. It’s worse than I could’ve imagined.
“Right,” I tell him. “This shit has to stop.”
Letting go of his hand, I leave him standing in the middle of the living area as I move around, opening up every window I can reach. Fresh air flowing into the room dilutes the smell to a manageable level and I inhale a much-needed lungful of oxygen. Grabbing two garbage bags from the cupboard under the sink, I hand one to Benji. Gesturing with my head toward the mess covering his dining table, I make my way to the coffee table and begin throwing his trash into the bag. He watches me for a second before he moves to the table and starts clearing it.
With my back to him, I let a small smile break free. I know we still have to talk so this small victory will need to sustain me for now. Having expected to argue my way inside and then beg him to listen to me, I’m thrilled with his rea
ction so far.
My moment of celebration is ruined when I lift his bedding off the couch so I can take it to the laundry. Two used condoms fall off the side table and onto the floor at my feet. I look at them and then at Benji, then back at the revolting objects. My breakfast churns in my stomach and then tries to come up my throat. I choke it back down, attempting to ignore the way my mouth continues to water, and without another glance at Benji, I make my way into the laundry with his filthy bedding.
Throwing it into the washing machine, I add washing detergent and a huge dose of bleach. I don’t give a shit if I ruin the fabric. In fact, the idea of adding more to ensure that it’s destroyed crosses my mind as I jab at the buttons to start the cycle.
My reaction is irrational. I know it is. We owe each other nothing; we were never exclusive. Yet, I can’t stop the feeling of betrayal that’s currently consuming me. While I was getting clean and pining away for him, he’s been living it up, fucking other women, and not sparing me a passing thought. Maddi was so far off base with her accusations, that it’s almost funny.
Alrighty, I make a snap decision. I’m going to stick with my plan to clean Benji and his house up and then I’m going to sit him down so he can hear me out. He needs to know that I’ve told the Shamrocks the truth and he needs to get his head on straight to deal with the impending fallout. Once that’s done, I’m out of here.
No one will see me for dust as I search for someplace safe to lick my wounds, somewhere that holds zero reminders of Benji, Connor, the Shamrocks. A place I can start fresh once I’ve buried my feelings for him and my guilt regarding the rest of them.
After taking a minute to calm myself, I return to the living area and resume cleaning up as if nothing happened. Benji’s already made a large dent in the mess of the dining room and he doesn’t pay me any attention when I walk past him. When I’ve run out of things to occupy myself in that area, I move back to the couch and force myself to pick up the rubbish he has strewn everywhere. To my surprise, the condoms aren’t on the floor where I left them. Looking over my shoulder at Benji, I try to read his closed off expression.
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