Glory

by Ana Jolene

  I took a step forward. “Where the fuck is she?”

  “She’s gone,” he said simply, as if he was talking about an object instead of a living, breathing person. “I gave her away.”

  “To who?”

  “I prefer not to discuss my trade dealings with others. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”

  No way was he going to leave here in one piece. I lunged for him, grabbing the front of his shirt. His face was mere inches from mine. Inside of Neptune’s, the tension between us saturated the room. It signaled to the others—like the scent of blood alerting a wolf pack that dinner was being served—that a fight was about to break out. Glory MC gathered around me, ready and waiting for someone to throw the first punch. But Kitt’s voice once again cut through my homicidal mindset like an angel on my shoulder. “Let him go.”

  My eyes cut to his, seeing pools devoid of cloudy emotions. It made me pull back, realizing that I was letting my emotions fog up my thinking. My eyes bore into Brennan with undisguised hostility, promising death the next time I saw him. It pissed me off that he could affect me this way. So with very great reluctance, I released Brennan with a shove, sending him falling back, arms splayed wide.

  It wasn’t a defeat and he knew that because the expression on his face looked almost frustrated. He was jonesing for a fight himself.

  “Get him out of here,” I growled before Kitt and the rest of the club manhandled Brennan none too gently out the door. I turned to look for Indy, but she was no longer behind the bar. Panic seized me before I went in search for her.

  I found her standing in front of Neptune’s, her back towards me as she watched Brennan ride away. When Brennan’s figure in the distance was long gone, I called out her name. “Come inside. He won’t be coming back.”

  Indy turned slowly, eyes a bit wild. The instinct to reach out for her was immense. I wanted to hold her, to pull her in close, but knew that she wouldn’t want my touch right now. Without looking or speaking to me, she walked inside and went straight back to work.

  * * *

  I was waiting in the parking lot when Indy’s shift ended. Upon seeing me, she walked right up to me. “We need to talk.”

  I let out a breath of relief. Finally—I just needed a moment to explain everything to her. Having her here, talking to me again had me smiling. I couldn’t help it. Her mere presence brought me happiness.

  Indy shook her head. “Not about that though. I saw something earlier that I think you should know.”

  My smile vanished, replaced by a look of concern. “What is it?” She looked over her shoulder as if someone was spying on us. It brought up the hairs on the back of my neck. What had put that fear in her eyes? “Get on,” I said as I straddled my bike. “We’ll talk somewhere else.”

  Indy nodded, hopping on without protest. I walked us out and gunned it towards my house, knowing that there wasn’t a more secure location than that.

  Once there, Indy walked in warily, as if she were approaching a stranger’s house. I guess in a way, we were. I could hardly say I recognized the look in her eyes in that moment.

  Flipping on all the lights brought some comfort to her, so I went ahead and locked the doors as well. I could tell her distress still lingered by the way her eyes kept darting to the windows and doors. She also kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she was afraid. “Are you okay?” I asked. She nodded, but her eyes gave her away. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I saw something earlier that you and the rest of Glory MC should know.”

  My insides clenched with her words. “Go on.”

  “I saw Brennan . . . before he came into Neptune’s.”

  My anger flared to life. “Did he touch you? Hurt you?” I should’ve killed him when I had the chance!

  “No no,” Indy said with a shake of her head. “He didn’t see me, but I saw him talking with someone earlier. I didn’t recognize him from around here but something told me that they were planning something. Do Ward leaders usually cross borders like that?”

  “Not without permission but Brennan has trespassed before. Why? What did you see?”

  “They were speaking . . . actually more like negotiating something. Something about a shipment of firearms?” By the confused look in her eyes, she couldn’t have known that that tidbit was relevant to us.

  “What did he look like?”

  “Tall and lean. He had shades covering his eyes so I don’t know what color they were. He wore a grey suit that screamed money.” Running guns was a lucrative business so that wasn’t out of the ordinary but this news made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Holy shit, had Indy seen the bastard who was selling firearms to Ward Three?

  I ran a hand through my hair, trying to pin the identity of this mystery man. The description was pretty general and gave me little to rely on. “What else can you tell me?”

  “I overhead them saying that they would meet again.” Her eyes flipped up to meet mine. “At the Ward Four run.”

  With the loss of a brother, it was tradition for the club to ride for them one last time as a way to pay our respect to the dead. Loosing Newt hit us hard, but we planned to gather one last time to salute our vice-prez. Was the club’s safety now in jeopardy? “What’s going to happen then?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. But it can’t be good.”

  “Let me call this in,” I said, pulling out my phone. “You’ll be asked more questions, but they’ll be relatively the same. I need you to tell them everything you can remember. Are you okay with that?”

  Indy nodded.

  On the phone, I rattled off the information to Knuckle who then would call in a meeting soon and give us a chance to form a plan of action. Whether Indy knew it or not, she had just stepped into the world of Glory MC with both feet. And now, the fate and safety of our club rested on her ability to identify this accomplice so we could eliminate him quickly.

  After setting everything up with the club, I found Indy sitting on the couch, her face devoid of any color. I handed her a glass filled with water from the kitchen. “Thank you for telling me.” She didn’t have to, but that she came forward with this knowledge while we weren’t on good terms put me in her debt.

  Her lips lifted in the corners and for a second, it felt like old times. I took a deep breath, knowing that my next few words would wipe them away, but it had to be done. Just because she came to me with info, it didn’t clear up the mess we had before. “What did Brennan mean about the secret?” Her eyes shot to meet mine before darting away. I continued before I could lose my courage. “Is your last name really Beaumont?”

  Indy didn’t immediately respond, and for a second there, I wondered if this was as far as conversation would go. But then she gave me a small nod in the affirmative.

  “I’m India Marie Beaumont,” she said. “My father was Edward Beaumont and my mother was named Madeline.” She paused and looked at me meaningfully. “Have you heard of them?” Her eyes held captive a decade’s worth of pain. It startled me to see so much suffering in her eyes.

  I realized that she was giving me pieces of a puzzle but I couldn’t find the instructions; I had no idea how to put them together. I racked my brain for clues, something that would form a whole picture, but all I could remember about a Beaumont family was that their daughter may have had an illness or something.

  But I didn’t have to guess any longer. There in Indy’s words, I felt her agony. “I have bipolar disorder.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Strong Enough

  Indy

  This was my nightmare coming to fruition; admitting the truth about myself to Hastie. Brennan’s words rattled in my head long after he left, leaving me feeling shaken and unbalanced. Fear dropped over me like a wet blanket the moment he mentioned my last name. Had he found out the truth about me somehow?

  I had hoped to bury the Beaumont name along with my family. It was the only link to my identity before the flares. But as Brennan looked into Hastie’s eyes with a s
ense of triumph, dangling that bit of knowledge in his face like a prize, I knew that in that moment, my secret was going to be revealed whether I wanted it or not.

  I had braced myself for the worse, for Brennan to yell at the top of his lungs the secret that I worked so hard at trying to hide. So when he left without uttering another word, I knew that if anyone was going to tell Hastie the truth, it had to be me.

  Hastie was looking at me with an expression I never wanted to see on his face. I knew that look. I didn’t want it. It was a look that I had grown accustomed to whenever I was introduced as India Marie Beaumont. And it was a look I had grown to hate. “Bipolar?” he echoed.

  That word sliced through me like a serrated knife.

  No.

  Please, no. It was already beginning, that thing that made everyone forget about the person and focus only on the disorder. Hastie’s eyes were already looking at me with pity.

  That thing inside my belly uncurled like a snake, smashing against the sides of me, fighting to escape as it threatened to jump out of my throat. I was once again filled with paralyzing fear that no one would ever see past my disorder to see me. The real me.

  Our breakup had made me regret not sharing this detail about myself with him before. But cutting into the heart of the matter, the real truth was that I was afraid. I feared that Hastie would suddenly see me as different to him, no longer wanting to be with someone so damaged that not even medication could repair me. Yet withholding the secret resulted in our separation anyway.

  In telling him, I felt like I had just jumped off a cliff without a safety harness, hurtling in the air with no guarantee that someone would catch me. Seizing me with its sharp talons, panic attacked me and those intense green eyes suddenly felt too perceptive as they saw the real me for the very first time.

  Wetness trickled down my cheeks and I realized I was crying. I angrily dashed them away with my hand, moving to get out of there but Hastie’s arms came around me.

  I fought against the cage of his embrace. Despite our close proximity, I had completely closed myself off, the defense mechanism I so often used to shut people out, clicking into place out of habit. I kept my eyes downcast, avoiding that distant look in his eyes. I couldn’t stand it.

  Hastie didn’t say anything for a long time. He just held me and it was the most awkward experience of my life. I struggled once again, trying to push him away. “Let me go.” My voice sounded exactly like how I felt. Broken.

  “You haven’t told anyone else, have you? That’s why you didn’t want anyone to know your last name.”

  “Let me go,” I repeated. This time it was more of a plea.

  “Not even Seven knows, right?”

  “If you ever tell anyone . . .” The threat rang out loud and clear as my voice strengthened. Because the simple truth was, admitting that I had an illness made it feel more real. There was no way to hide that part of me anymore. That part that made me feel ashamed and worthless and—

  I blinked and kept blinking, trying to make sense of my fragmented, broken mind. My thoughts had derailed, crashing every which way with no intent on stopping. God, this couldn’t be happening. Here I was, losing my shit. Right in front of Hastie. Exactly what I hoped would never happen.

  A tender touch on my chin brought my eyes to his. This time Hastie didn’t allow me to curl into myself. “You’ve kept that shit bottled up for so long, you don’t even know which way is up.”

  I had nothing to say to this. Because it was the truth.

  “Am I the first person you’ve told?” Hastie tapped my chin gently. “Eyes, baby.” Despite the racing thoughts in my head, I managed to follow the simple command. As my gaze clashed with his, I saw something I never expected. There was hurt lingering in the depths of green. “Did you ever plan to tell me?” His voice held a touch of sharpness.

  I avoided his gaze, shaking my head.

  “Why?”

  I never wanted you to know, I said silently in my head. I didn’t dare say it aloud. It would only make Hastie angrier. This disorder would rule me no matter what I did. And now, even the most important person to me knew the secret I was so desperate to hide.

  Distantly, I felt Hastie carrying me to his bed and lying me down. I immediately curled up into a ball, wanting to become as small as I felt. To hide from the world all over again.

  Hastie was speaking words, but none of them registered through the haze in my mind. All I could think about was losing yet another grasp on my life due to this mood disorder.

  After an eternity had passed, Hastie left, closing the door behind him as I lay there coming to grips with what I had done. I continued to cry until I couldn’t anymore. My tears ran out and not even my soul had anything else to give. I had exhausted myself, finding an ally in the darkness that surrounded me. My eyelids fluttered closed and I finally allowed myself to breathe.

  Hastie

  I have bipolar disorder.

  The words repeated in my mind again and again, but it was Indy’s voice when she said it that scored my insides. It was clear that she had tortured herself over this. With the way her face turned white when Brennan mentioned her last name earlier, this was a secret she had kept to herself for some time. Would she have kept this knowledge away from me too if it’d not been for Brennan?

  The answer was simple.

  Yes.

  She would have. Indy had never planned to tell me and that fact was as effective as dumping me into a vat of boiling water; it burned right through me. Has she been afraid that telling me this would somehow change how I felt about her?

  Her admission explained everything about her. Her mood swings, the erratic behavior. Perhaps she thought that if nobody knew about the disorder, it didn’t have to be real.

  Indy had kept me at a distance to protect herself. It was never about her not caring enough about me. The fact that she had come to me about what she saw was proof enough that she did.

  But now that I knew the truth, it made me feel like more of an asshole. I had read her all wrong and had hurt her unnecessarily. It only made me feel worse for giving up on her so soon. All Indy needed was some reassurance that she wasn’t alone and I had gone and abandoned her.

  Lips thinning, I sighed and sipped my whiskey, ignoring the busy crowd at Neptune’s. I had left her at my place, to give her the alone time that she needed after all this. It also gave me a chance to reflect on everything between us.

  A low whistle sounded behind me and a second later, Lucky’s hand landed on my shoulder in an affectionate pat. “So what happened?”

  “Did you know that Indy has bipolar disorder?”

  My best friend shook his head as he dropped down into the seat next to me. “No, I didn’t. Did she tell you that?”

  “Yeah. I just wished she told me sooner. It explains a lot.”

  Lucky hooked a finger around the neck of his beer bottle and brought it to his lips. “Not exactly dinner conversation though.”

  I grinned despite the tightening feeling in my chest. Damn, he was right. “You always got something smart to say?”

  Lucky shot me a lopsided smile. “You have to admit, everything that comes out of my mouth is gold.”

  “Or bullshit,” I volleyed.

  “Hey, I’m not the one drinking alone while his woman is probably freaking out right now.”

  “Fuck, you’re right.” I set the glass on the bar.

  “See,” Lucky said with a cocky grin. “Pure gold.”

  Kitt came up to the bar then and Hanna moved to grab him his regular, but he made a slashing movement with his hand. “No need,” he said to Hanna. “I just came to say I might be a little late to the meeting later. Got some plans.”

  That was surprising. The sergeant at arms was always early to meetings. “Where you heading?” Lucky asked.

  “I’m going to see Seven.” Grinning, he slapped Lucky on the back and walked out, leaving Lucky and I imitating gaping fish in his wake.

  I slid a questioning look
at Lucky, but he was staring intently at his beer bottle, brows knitted together. What the hell was going on? But that was something to think about later. Right now, the next step was making sure that Indy knew that none of what she said was going to change how I felt about her.

  Shoving the barstool back, I stood up. Lucky looked up at me and some of his old humor resurfaced. “Should I be texting you some advice?”

  Oh, so now he wanted to share his wisdom. “Too late,” I said. “I’ll catch you later.” My hand shot out to clasp his. I made a move to leave but paused, turning to Lucky once again. “You know I love ya, right?”

  Lucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you should be telling that to your ol’ lady.”

  I nodded. “Later.”

  “Later,” Lucky returned and then I was out of there.

  Indy

  I woke up alone in Hastie’s bed feeling like I had one too many drinks. With the worst case of cottonmouth, I rubbed my eyes of dried tears. Ugh. Gross. I had to get out of here before Hastie returned. As I forced myself out of bed, a myriad of aches and pains shot through my body all at once. What I needed was a hot shower to help me feel better.

  By the time I got out, it was already late. I was drying my hair with a towel in the mirror when I sensed someone behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Since it was his house, the obvious guess would be Hastie. But it was also the fact that the room changed when he was in it. When Hastie stepped into the bedroom, his presence saturated it. The four walls had been filled with nothing but air before; now they were filled entirely of him. “You all right?” he asked.

  Seeing him again brought back all the memories of earlier in Technicolor vibrancy. Natural instinct made me want to hide myself but there was no need to. Hastie finally knew the truth. He crossed the distance between us with no effort at all before wiping away a droplet of water off my collarbone. “Have you eaten?”