by SE Jakes
“Not what I asked,” Jethro countered.
“Not sure it matters.”
Jethro accepted that with a small nod and Bram wondered how much the biker had to do with clearing him. Whether he and Sweet had worked together to do the things Sweet had told him not to ask about. Right now, Bram had deniability.
He also had zero guilt about any of it.
Linc was refusing to see anyone but Bram—and Misha—and he’d accepted Jethro as well, but beyond that, he hadn’t mentioned Gypsy. Sweet checked in, finally taking to texting because Bram wouldn’t take his calls.
He told himself it was because he didn’t want to bother Linc while he was resting, but in reality, Bram had no idea what to say to him.
But after a week, as Linc’s physical heath improved, Sweet showed at the hospital. Bram had been bracing himself for it, but seeing Sweet’s strong, handsome face made something dark and hot inside of him just need.
He didn’t want to need. Not like that. “Let’s walk,” he said and Sweet nodded, followed him down the hall and the stairs until they hit a door that led to fresh air and privacy.
Bram breathed in, blinked up at the sun.
“I know Linc’s improving,” Sweet said. “Misha keeps me up.”
“I know. I told her it was okay.”
“What about you?” Sweet asked.
Bram laughed. “Me? Fuck. I don’t even know. I mean, I didn’t have time to process what I’d been through until now. But the shit I saw . . . fuck, I had to eat a lot of shit in my life, you know? You’d think I’d be used to it. But the Heathens? That was a whole new level. I thought I’d never climb out. Some days, I’m not sure I did.”
“You did. You’re out.”
“Ah, Sweet, I’m just . . . done.”
“What does that mean?”
Bram stared at the sky, then back at Sweet. “It means that I don’t know who I really am anymore. I don’t know if I ever knew—not truly. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s why undercover work was so appealing to me. Because I thought I’d find myself. Instead, I got pushed farther away.”
“So what—you gonna go on a walkabout and find yourself?” It wasn’t said with any kind of sarcasm.
“Maybe.”
“Did you ever stop to think that the reason you’re so good at undercover work is because you do know who you are? I think it takes a strong, sure personality as a base in order to pull off what you have.”
Sweet really believed that of him. “That’s . . . thanks for saying that.”
“You know by now I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”
Bram studied him. “You can’t tell me it’s been a cakewalk, being gay and out and in charge.”
Sweet snorted. “Being in charge—gay or straight—getting to this point? The hardest challenge I faced. But Finn always told me it was my calling. He helped me come to terms with my sexuality. He was comfortable as fuck, so for me, it wasn’t a big deal. Surprised the hell out of me when people gave a shit and acted like assholes. But I can fight.”
Bram nodded. “So can I. But there are times . . . I want to stop.”
“That first night—do you know why I brought the bartender along?” Sweet asked, and Bram shook his head. “Because I knew I’d get too goddamned attached to you if I didn’t put something—someone else—between us. Could tell by what happened in the alley.”
“Did it work?”
“Made it motherfucking worse,” Sweet confessed.
At Sweet’s words, Bram’s eyes clouded. Shuttered.
Shit.
Sweet braced himself for the complete shutdown. But slowly, Bram looked at him and said, “I figured I was going to die that night. And I didn’t give a shit. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have fought but . . .”
“You had a death wish,” Sweet finished, realizing for the first time how Bram had let himself be with a member of an MC when he was hiding from other bikers—and had almost been killed by them.
Bram had made the first move. Had he wanted Sweet to kill him in that alley? Or had he merely expected it?
“Babe.” He took Bram’s chin in his palm. “I guess there was a lot about that first night neither of us knew.”
“But now we do.”
“But now we do.” Sweet realized he could break this man with one wrong move, and he was far too aware of it now to ever let it happen again.
And you’re going to fuck it up. Again.
No. With Jimmy-Boy, it was Sweet being selfish, but this time, it was about saving Bram from his demons and letting Bram save himself. “Go with Linc. Take care of him.” When what he’d really meant was, Let him take care of you.
What he really wanted to say was, Stay with me.
But the damage was done. Needed to be.
“You want me to go,” Bram said, like he was repeating it so Sweet could confirm.
“We can’t . . . you said yourself it won’t work.”
“And you said it could. That it was me holding it back.”
Sweet couldn’t answer that, just told him, “This doesn’t mean Havoc’s abandoning you. We can patch Linc in. You too. Or—”
“Or we run,” Bram finished.
“Even if you leave . . . you can still be protected by Havoc. You can still be Havoc.”
“Now who’s using a shield?” Bram shook his head hard. “We’ll take our chances without you.”
“Bram—”
“You made your point earlier.”
“I won’t let you risk your life.”
“Guess what? That’s not something you’re in charge of anymore. You’ve got nothing to hang over my head. My secrets almost got you killed, and yours and Gypsy’s? They almost killed Linc. So this makes us even.”
“Bram . . .”
Bram turned stone-faced. “You want me gone because you can’t deal with it? You think I ever let myself believe you could?”
He didn’t give Sweet time to answer that . . . and Sweet wouldn’t have. For Bram’s own good.
Bram finally barked, “Go, Sweet. I’ll leave your family alone if you get the fuck out of here and leave mine alone.”
Sweet stared into Bram’s eyes one last, quick time. And then he did what Bram told him to.
Gypsy wasn’t seeing anyone. Holed up on the north side of the compound, he stayed inside. Food was dropped to him on his front porch. His garbage was put out. Otherwise, no one talked to him. Tug took over the bonds shop.
Sweet had no other choice but to run the club like a machine, even though his brain was on autopilot. Rush and Ryker came back, and Rush went to stay with Linc and Bram for a while, with Havoc’s blessing.
“I know where they are,” Ryker offered Sweet.
“Good,” Sweet said hollowly. “I’m worried about Gypsy.”
“Me too. But I’m equally worried about you.”
“Don’t. It’s for the best.”
Ryker crossed his arms and stared his president down. “Why’s that? Because you decided it? Because you forced him out for his own good?”
“Yes, dammit. Yes to all of that,” Sweet told him fiercely. “This life . . . I won’t be the one who breaks him.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I did. For a moment, I did. You didn’t see him, Ryker. You didn’t see him.”
“At one point, Rush was him. So I’ve seen it, Sweet.”
“Just because it worked for you doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.” Sweet shook his head. “Just . . . be there for Bram and Linc until they decide what to do. That’s all I need.”
Ryker wisely said nothing more. For the first time, Sweet wished someone would buck harder against him.
Linc insisted Bram rent them a house on the lake. Because that was the thing about memories. While Bram’s were of a terrified nature when it came to anything water related, Linc’s were more centered on the adventure of almost drowning, of his big brother saving him.
So of course, Bram caved. Rented the house about an hour from Shades
, but keeping that town squarely in between them and the Heathens. Linc also needed to stay close to the hospital for regular checkups, and he’d grown too fond of Misha for him to give her up.
Rush visited, bringing Ryker with him, and Bram had stayed away, not wanting to see anything Havoc related.
When he returned, their Harleys were gone and he found Linc down by the lake, staring at the water, just like he used to when they were kids.
They were both men now, both knew how to swim . . . and they were still both fucking drowning.
“Good visit?” he asked, sitting down next to his brother and letting his feet dangle into the water.
“Yeah.” There were circles under his eyes. “Rush is happy. Deserves to be.”
“So do you.”
Linc snorted. “Thanks, Dr. Bram. Right back at you.” Then he shrugged. “Rush said Gypsy won’t talk to anyone. He doesn’t work. He’s just holed up in his place at Havoc.”
“Yeah, that’s what Sweet told me too.”
“I called him, you know.” Linc glanced up at Bram. “Gypsy, not Sweet. I left him a message. And I waited by the phone like a lovesick girl waiting for him to call me back. Hell, I figured banning him from the hospital would make him want to come see me even more but . . .”
But. “Do you remember anything about your rescue?”
Linc shook his head. “It’s a blur. Still. Misha said it will probably come back to me.”
“She told me that too.” Bram knew that Gypsy had been there. He wasn’t supposed to tell Linc any of it though, because Misha said that was like planting memories. Still, if it gave Linc comfort to know that Gypsy had been an integral part of his rescue . . .
Dammit.
“It’s okay I guess,” Linc continued. “Gypsy and I . . . well, how far could it have gone, you know? If it had legs, he’d be here.”
“He’s got guilt, Linc. Even though it’s not his fault.”
“Technically it is.” Linc stared, a haunted look Bram had never wanted to see in his eyes, and again, the anger rose inside of Bram. “I heard them say that they promised Gypsy that they’d take his happiness away. I guess Gypsy didn’t consider me like that. I was only sleeping with him for a few weeks. It wasn’t like we were serious . . .”
“You’re right. He should’ve warned you somehow,” Bram told him. “But you made him happy. Trust me.”
“Such a fucking crime to be happy,” Linc muttered. “I can’t believe Bones is Gypsy’s brother.”
Bram nodded. “I thought it was my fault, you know. The whole time . . .”
“I’m sorry.”
“No apologies. From now on, contact. Constant.”
Linc rolled his eyes and sighed. “Great.” But there was a smile too. “So what now? Tied at the hip and where do we go?”
Bram was aware that Linc watched him wrestle with the question. Finally, Bram offered, “We could run.”
“Yeah, we could,” Linc said, tiredness sounding like it threatened to envelop him, the way it had whenever he thought about anything Havoc—and Gypsy—related. A stress reaction for sure. “But the running part . . .”
“You know where we’re safest. It’s not about Havoc’s compound. It’s about becoming members.” Bram’s voice sounded as hollow as the look in his brother’s eyes.
“Right. Full-time protection,” Linc said tiredly.
Gypsy had to suspect what the Heathens had done to him. Bram learned it from the docs who took care of Linc in the hospital and Linc? Well, he’d lived it, and although he refused to talk about it, Bram knew he’d have to, sooner or later, or it would take him down. “Gypsy didn’t know, Linc.”
“He didn’t make a move to find me, though. He was looking for his money.” Linc spoke as if stating a fact—there was no anger behind it. That was the problem though—there was no feeling at all. “I’m always going to remind him of his past now, and I’m guessing it’s not a past he wanted anyone to know about. So I can’t go to Havoc and stay there, Bram. I can’t, but you can,” Linc told him finally.
“Let them put you under protection.”
“No.”
“Then let me,” Bram said fiercely.
“Let you what?”
“If I patch in, you’re family. Protected. They won’t touch you.”
Linc gave a short, humorless laugh. “Ah, Bram, they won’t touch me anyway,” he said, the honesty a brutal blow he’d already dealt to himself from day one. “They already got their satisfaction—they ruined him and they ruined me. The damage? It’s me, and it’s done and it’s permanent.”
Even though Linc kept his voice as emotionless and as matter-of-fact as he could, Bram still knew the depths of his pain. Knew, moved in, and closed him arms around him, unsurprised when Linc began to sob for the first time since escaping his ordeal.
Bram just held on, and he wasn’t sure how long it took for Linc to let it all out. But when he finally had—for the moment, at least—Linc pulled away, wiped his eyes, and looked at Bram.
Bram spoke first. “I know you believe everything you said. But I’m going to do everything I can to help you, to not make it true.”
Linc nodded. “I still think— Havoc—”
“Linc, if I’m in . . . I’m always a reminder.”
“Bram, do you think that if you’re not a Havoc member, I’ll magically forget?”
Bram shook his head helplessly.
“Go to him. Go to Sweet.”
“He told me to stay away, Linc. Said it’s not going to work. I know I remind him too much of his ex, who died in combat. He wants to keep me out of danger. Or something. I tried to push back but it just made things worse.”
“And you think he meant it?” Linc asked.
“Sweet usually says what he means.”
“Riiight.” Linc stretched out the word and rolled his eyes. “Like he’s not trying to make sure you’re safe. He knew you’d be torn between staying with me and staying with him.”
“How’d you get so damned smart?”
“I listened to my older brother, even when he thought I wasn’t.” Linc patted him on the shoulder. “Go to him. I’ll be here. I’m staying here for a bit. Rush said he’ll come stay with me until it’s time for me to go, okay? He and Ryker just went to go get something to eat until I talked to you about it.”
Bram stared at his brother. “Trying to get rid of me so soon?”
“No way. I just need to figure some things out, okay? I’m fine—I’ll be in touch. I just . . . I don’t know, Bram. I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Don’t run.”
“I won’t be running this time. I’ll be trying to piece myself back together. I need to. You know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I’ll be all right. You’ll be too. Because you’re a good man, Bram. All those times you’ve been going undercover? Hate to break it to you, but you’re still you. You’re not trying to escape yourself as much as you’re trying to self-protect.”
Bram wanted to push Linc into the lake but, just like the asshole somehow knew, he rolled over and let himself half fall, half dive into the placid water. Because, if nothing else, Linc was too stubborn and zen to have a fear of water after his near-drowning. Instead, Bram watched as his brother’s head emerged, as sleek as a seal disrupting the smooth surface and redirecting the ripples.
Because that? That was Linc.
“Hate it that you’re right,” Bram muttered, and as though Linc heard, he turned, smiled, and dove under again.
This time, Bram joined him.
Bram got into his truck and drove toward Havoc, passing Rush and Ryker in the lake house’s driveway. That made him feel marginally better about leaving Linc behind, but his little brother didn’t know that Bram would be a frequent visitor as long as Linc stayed there.
Or stayed anywhere. Bram would just keep racking up those miles.
As he made the two-hour drive, he got mad at himself, but even madder at Sweet.
&nbs
p; “For my own good. Asshole fucker thinks he can trick me,” he said out loud as the realization washed over him. “He’ll have to try harder.”
Sweet was sitting on his front porch when Tug’s bike stopped in front of the house and Tug called, “Hey—your boy just drove his bike up the hill. Almost went through the night watchmen, but they jumped out of the way last minute.” And sounded a little too smugly happy about it.
“Then what fucking good are they?” Sweet yelled.
“They saw who it was. Didn’t really see the need to risk their lives to keep Bram away from you.”
“Fuck that. I’ll kill them myself. And for the record, Bram’s not my . . .” He trailed off as they heard Bram’s truck tearing up the roads, coming closer.
“Sweet? You were saying?” Tug prompted.
“Fuck off.”
“Right. That’s what I thought. Have fun,” Tug offered as he prepared to roar off. “And this shit right here? This is why I’m single.”
“You’re single because no woman will put up with your ass for more than a night,” Sweet yelled to him as he pulled away.
Then he waited, camped out, arms crossed. But Bram never came any closer . . . at least not to his house. No, he heard the fucker’s truck zooming along the road behind his house and veering off toward the clubhouse instead.
Did the guys cover for him, leading Bram to the wrong place? And why did that make Sweet angry?
He paced the porch for a while, listening to the music blaring from the clubhouse, swore he wasn’t going over there. But an hour later, Bram’s truck was still there and no one had contacted him about trouble.
Would they have? Was Bram in trouble?
Fuck it. He walked over to the clubhouse and went inside. The party was in full swing, with MC members and their guests packing the bar and the pool room. And that’s where Sweet found Bram, who was standing there talking to Ozzie, beer in hand. And laughing.
I’ll give you something to laugh about . . .
He couldn’t tear his eyes off Bram. He’d gained weight—good weight. His skin was tan, his eyes clear. They became laser-focused when he spotted Sweet but he didn’t move, content to let Sweet come over to him.