“He’s got his wife. He chose to leave,” Marvel throws in.
“Olivia is close to giving birth. Eli’s state of mind means he’s questioning his marriage, whether he’s good enough for her. He’s about closed himself off completely.”
“Wraith there, with him?” Jekyll suggests incisively.
“Yes,” Wizard confirms. “Eli can’t be left alone.” He wipes his hand over his face. “I’ve seen him, brothers. My assessment is he’s a danger to himself, if not unintentionally to someone else.”
“He getting professional help?”
I pick up Peg’s question and run with it. “He’s been prescribed antidepressants, but refuses to see the therapist right now.”
Shooter blows out air noisily.
Drifter glances at him, then says firmly, “He needs to come home. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it, VP?”
“He’s not sitting around this table—”
“Not suggesting that, Marvel. But here, on the compound where we can all take shifts.”
“Suicide watch, you mean?” Heart looks upset.
He’s not as distressed as me hearing him put it so succinctly, but he’s right. Left to his own devices, Eli might think his permanent absence is best for the world.
“So we’re going to vote on whether we allow him back?”
“He left with a beatdown and that was that—”
“Marvel,” Wizard growls, stopping the man speaking further. He stares at each of the members who all hold their tongues. “VP, this is where we ask you to step out.”
Knowing it is, I stand. The men need to talk freely, and I don’t need to be here to listen to shit which I may be tempted to follow up with my fists.
I can’t blame them for not leaping in with their offers of help. Eli betrayed the club in the worst possible way when he took off the cut bearing our colours. He’d disrespected our way of life and everything the club stands for.
Surely, if they could do the same thing as I’ve done, look back over the past year or even more with the benefit of hindsight, they’d too pick up on little signs, things that perhaps we’d missed.
I don’t blame Olivia for not realising how serious things with Eli had gotten. For a start, she’s pregnant and her mind is rightfully focused on her own health and that of her unborn child, and secondly, at first sight, his problems were of his own making, caused by him insisting they both had to leave the club.
I sit at a table in the clubroom, empty except for a couple of whores waiting around until church is over, and the prospect standing behind the bar. No one interrupts me. I’ve not touched a sweet butt since Sam entered my life, and prospects know to leave me alone.
Slight changes in Eli’s language come into my head. Subjects on which my son had previously been decisive had started to be answered more vaguely instead with an I’m not certain, or an I’m not sure. Why hadn’t that registered with me then? Looking back, I’d put it down to him thinking more with the added responsibility of being second in command, being extra thoughtful and considerate. It had never occurred to me he’d been doubting and questioning himself.
The door opens and reveals the person I want to see most. I stand and greet her halfway.
“Sam.” The first genuine smile I’ve worn for hours comes to my face.
“I’ve missed you, Drummer.”
“Me too, darlin’. Me too.” This is where she belongs, in my arms and by my side.
Though it seems she’s not going to be there long. “Nathan collected us from the airport. He dropped me here and then went to take Sophie straight down to Eli and Olivia’s house. I’ve just come back to get my bike before heading down there myself. Have there been any developments?”
I jerk my head in a backward direction. “They’re voting now on whether Eli can come home.”
“If he doesn’t, I’m moving in with them. Ollie will need someone, and she’s in no condition to be there for Eli.”
“I’ll be there too.” I’m starting to think Eli’s house will get pretty crowded, as Sophie and Wraith will want to be close by as well. Best all-around if they can come back. I’ve done all I can do to engineer that result, it’s up to the brothers now.
“Are you coming later?” she asks.
“Yeah, just let me finish up here.” I’m hoping I’ll be going back with good news, but I’m not entirely optimistic. “You need me to bring anything with me?”
“I’ll text you. If Wraith and Sophie are staying, there won’t be much room, but if we are needed, I’ll want an overnight bag.” She doesn’t question whether I’ll be there with her. She knows that I will.
Leaning forward, I kiss her. “Just let me know.”
She prods me in the chest. “Stop worrying, Drummer. I know you. It was nothing you or I did, okay? Or even if it was, we can’t go back and change it. All we can do is deal with the cards we’ve been dealt. We will help Eli. He’s not alone anymore.”
My lips curve. Sam’s been my rock over the past two and a half decades more than she’ll ever know. Always managing to find a way to show me how to come back when I stray from the path and get lost. She’s right. The past is written in stone, it’s the future we can influence.
“Fuck, I love you, woman.”
She responds in the same way, then, with one quick kiss she’s gone.
I beckon to Butcher. “Rascal’s on bar duty—”
He grins as he interrupts me. “You want me to follow Sam wherever she’s going?”
He’s right. I do. Can’t have my old lady riding alone at night, even if it is just down into Tucson. Sam, well, she’s not going to take a cage when it’s a nice night. Fully understanding, I wouldn’t ask her to.
Butcher goes, Rascal comes in. Time ticks by. Tommy shuffles in slowly, using a stick to help him along. His legs seem to worsen daily now, and soon we’ll need to encourage him to use his mobility scooter inside the clubhouse instead of parking it outside with the rest of the bikes. It’s one which is shaped like a Harley, and even as worried as I am, I half smile as I recall his pleasure when we presented him with it.
Wearing the prospect cut he was given twenty years ago, Tommy slowly makes his way past. He gives me a salute, rubbing his tummy with his free hand. “Prez. Tommy hungry.”
Doesn’t matter how many times we tell him Wiz now has that title, Tommy hangs onto an idea once he’s got hold of it. I raise my chin to acknowledge he’s going to raid the kitchen.
“Prez want something?”
“Nah, I’m good, Prospect.”
Tommy grins as I give him his title which never seems to grow old.
Then he’s gone, and I’m left alone with my thoughts once more.
Is it a good sign church hasn’t yet ended? Are they arguing on Eli’s behalf or against? My fingers tap impatiently on the table as I try to remember if I’ve ever before been excluded from saying aye or nay to a proposal. The answer is negative, I have not. But then, nothing has ever been so personal before.
After far too long, I hear the sound of heavy soles meeting the wooden floor. I resist the urge to turn and try to read the expressions my brothers are wearing, knowing Wizard won’t keep me hanging around for long.
Indeed, a tap on my shoulder gets my head twisting. When he meets my eyes, Wizard’s head jerks back in the direction of his office.
I stand, keeping my head down wanting to hear it from him first, and follow him.
Closing the door behind me, I watch him take the seat that was, for so many years, mine, and at his gesture, take a chair in front of his desk.
“Just give it to me, Prez.”
Wizard puts his hands on the top of the desk and clasps them together. “What you missed was an update from Mouse. He’s been tracking the feds who we believe are assigned to tracing the whereabouts of Archangel. Word is, they’re circling around Phoenix.”
My eyebrows rise. “That means they think he’s there, too.” I frown. “What’s in fuckin’ Phoenix? Last we heard, he
was near the border. Thought he’d gone over into Mexico myself.”
“You know what the feds are like.” He avoids a direct answer to my question. “They follow leads, and may not have much concrete to go on. We know they want Archangel as he escaped from prison and caused the death of his guards. He’s a number one priority for them. One sniff and they’ll be all over it.”
“But they might be wrong.”
Wizard shrugs. “Might be there’s a bunch of those motherfuckers who call themselves the Real Americans getting themselves organised which the feds find of interest. Archangel might be there or not, who the fuck knows? Might have the wrong state, the wrong fuckin’ country.”
“Or they might have gotten the sniff of a trail and are closing in. Meanwhile, Archangel’s holing up in another town.” My eyes fix on him.
His nod and response shows he’s on the same wavelength. “Phoenix is only a two-hour ride away.”
I don’t need that reminder. Too fucking close. But why’s he telling me this now? “Eli?” I prompt him.
“The brothers want no distractions. Satan’s Devils were responsible for Archangel going down.” He rubs at the bridge of his nose. “If Archangel has discovered that information, then it’s only a matter of time before he tries to get his revenge. With rumours of him possibly closing in, the club’s focus needs to be on protecting ours and our own.”
“And Eli’s a distraction? Prez,” I don’t give him a chance to speak, “if Eli’s off compound and there’s danger coming, then I need to be with my son. I’d give my life for any of my family, blood or club. But Eli to me is both.”
“I hear you.” He gestures with his hands. “Wraith won’t want Olivia out of his sight, and she won’t leave Eli.”
“So what do we do?” I wonder aloud. I hadn’t realised how much I’d hoped this was just a formality, and that I’d be able to bring Eli back to the compound. Now it seems Wraith and I will be protecting our offspring on our own.
Wizard cocks his brow at me. “We bring them home.”
“Yes, but…” As the unexpected words reach my ears, I have trouble comprehending them. “We, what?”
He grins widely. “You know how the brothers are. They all want to have their say, then someone needs to argue a point and they go back and forth. I just had to give them time to come around to the view I’ve held since I saw Eli in the gutter outside that fuckin’ sex shop. Your son is a man in need of family, friends and support. Throttle spoke up after you left us. He catalogued what had made him approach Eli that day. While we might not have noticed, Throttle had. He saw Eli changing, becoming a different man. Said he wished like fuck he’d handled it differently, but I think that’s the view of most of us.”
“But you said no distractions.”
“Distractions like having one of us and their old lady living apart from the club.” Wizard looks grim. “What better way of hurting us than taking the son of the ex-prez and the daughter of the ex-VP, both men who are still valued members?”
“You think they’re targets?” I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that.
“I think anyone connected with the club could be an object of interest to Archangel. We’re not going on lockdown exactly, but you know the drill. No riding alone, and old ladies to be escorted wherever they go.”
What Wizard has said is chilling. The Real Americans are white supremacists, stirring up trouble wherever they go and Archangel had been their leader. They’re known for their hot-headed violence and have been known to dabble in both drugs and sex trafficking. The feds had been chasing their tails trying to pin something that would stick on Archangel. Everyone knew how dirty he was, but officially they couldn’t prove it. Mouse had found the evidence to convict him, funnily enough for an unrelated crime but one which would lead to hard time. All we had to do was leave it out in the open for the feds to find. When he went down, leaderless, the groups following him had drifted apart, themselves becoming the targets. We live in hope that he hasn’t regrouped and found out who was responsible. If he has, I don’t want to think about what he’d think would be just retaliation.
“All we can do is be prepared, Drummer. We protect our own. And one thing I can assure you, when all was said and done, they said that included Eli.”
“Even Marvel?”
“Even Marvel.”
I smirk. That man’s been a thorn in my side ever since he patched over from San Diego. He’d argue just for the sake of it, but when it comes down to it, ends up on the right side. If truth be told, he makes us as least consider alternatives.
I breathe out as relief floods through me. My son won’t be alone anymore.
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia…
“I think you ought to see the therapist,” I tell Eli as I’m folding his clothes.
“Well I don’t. I spoke to Joker, then to Dad. You heard everything and don’t pretend you didn’t, Liv.”
“I only eavesdropped because you wouldn’t speak to me.” I take a couple of deep breaths, reminding myself he’s ill and I must resist the urge to snap at him.
“Put them back in the drawers.” He’s been watching what I’m doing. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Drummer had appeared last night and told me the best news ever. Eli and I could go home. Back to the house we designed together, back among the people we know. Eli’s reaction to the good news hadn’t been what I had expected. Instead of being pleased, he’d said no.
“Come on, Eli. You must know this is the right thing. You won’t even have to do anything. The prospects are coming to move the furniture—”
“I’m staying here,” he insists, and the look he sends me is challenging.
I’m starting to prefer it when he ignored me completely. I roll my eyes and bite my tongue.
My back hurts, the baby kept kicking all through the night before, waking me every time I dozed. I’m tired, irritable, and finding it hard to hold on to my patience. I know all my thoughts should be for my husband and the horrors in his head he’s carrying around, but it’s the worst possible time. I’m worried about having this baby as well as about him, and I’m worrying about worrying. What if my tension harms the baby?
“Well I’m going home,” I tell him.
He regards me for a moment, then sighs. “It’s for the best, Liv. I can’t be what you need. I can’t see I’m ever going to feel right again. You go, I’ll stay here. It’s the right thing for everyone.”
I open my mouth to respond, when a deep male voice interrupts, “Brother. Get up.” Something’s taken out of the pile of clothing I’m holding and thrown onto the bed. “Put those jeans on.”
“Get out of here, Hound!” Eli yells.
“Not happening,” another voice rasps. It’s Throttle. “You’ve got places to go.”
“I’m not moving back to the compound.”
“Nope. Drummer’s got the appointment you refused to go to yesterday moved to today. Hound and I are coming with you.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t give a fuckin’ damn,” Throttle snaps. “But I doubt you really want to lie here feeling low. We’re going to get you fuckin’ sorted, Brother. And that starts with you making an effort to help yourself.”
“Get dressed,” Hound commands again, in a voice he must have picked up in the Marines. It almost makes me want to check to see if I’m wearing enough clothes.
Eli stares, and just when I’m certain he’ll tell them to fuck off again, he huffs, and reaches for the jeans on the bed.
Throttle turns me so he can rifle through the bundles of clothes in my arms, picks out a t-shirt and it joins the pants Eli’s starting to pull on. None of us offer him privacy. He’s my husband, and well, they’re men.
Hound bends and picks up Eli’s boots, and I come to my senses, doing my part and finding him some socks.
Eli staggers slightly when he gets to his feet. He touches his head. “I don’t think I can ride. It’s the medication—”
“We’ve brought a cage,” Hound replies.
“You really coming with me?”
“Just to the hospital. Up to you whether you want us inside. Drummer’s meeting us there just in case you want him with you.” Throttle turns to me. “Sam and your mom and dad are staying with you. Unless…?”
I shake my head, knowing Eli wouldn’t want me to go. If I insist, he could refuse, and hell, if it gets him on the road to helping himself, I won’t do anything to stop that. If he’s going to talk to his therapist, he should be able to do so openly, even if what he says would upset me, his wife.
As Eli’s frogmarched out of the house, Sam comes up beside me. “He’s going to be fine,” she says firmly. “He’ll get through this.”
I’m not sure whether she’s trying to convince me or herself. I can only hope his therapy session sets him on the right path. I’m not foolish enough to think he’ll be miraculously cured, and know he will have some way to go. Once out the other side, will he be a changed man? Or will our marriage be over, as he won’t want me as his wife?
Wraith opens the door, and two prospects step inside. It’s Nathan and Rascal. I give them a nod, then turn to Mom who’s come up beside Sam.
“Do you think this is right?”
“What are you talking about?” Dad overhears and comes over.
I try to put my doubts into words. “Eli thinks he’s been railroaded all of his life. Herded in the direction that his dad wanted him to go.” I give Sam an apologetic look. I wave my hand toward the two men who’ve entered. “If we pack up and make it a fait accompli yet again, isn’t that just confirming he’s not in control of his life?”
“It’s best that you come back to the compound,” Dad states. “There are things going on which you don’t know. It’s nothing for you to worry about, but we’re just being cautious.”
I was brought up as the VP’s daughter, so I don’t bother asking Dad what he’s talking about.
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