by Penny Dee
I nodded. “What I did was a dick move.”
“Oh, it was more than a dick move, Cade.”
“I know. And I’ve always owned it. I was drunk. My asshole father drugged me, and yes, I fucked someone else. But I thought she was you. It never once entered into my head that it wasn’t you in bed with me—”
She put her hand up to stop me.
“I don’t give a fuck what excuse you think you have. You did what you did and it drove me away.”
“That’s bullshit, Indy, and you know it. Me fucking up was the perfect excuse for you to run and stay away. You hated the club. You wanted a reason to stay away without owning it.”
“Oh, that’s just rich! Is that really how you spin it in your head? You cheat on me at the clubhouse party with some club whore and I’m the one with the problem?” She shoved her hands on her hips but they slipped right off because she was drunk. “I catch you sticking your dick into another woman and I’m the one who is the asshole?”
“No. I’m the asshole. You’re the coward.”
Her eyes rounded. “A coward!”
“Yes! A coward! You turned and ran. And it was easier to blame me than to be honest. You wanted an out. And my stupidity gave it to you.”
“So it’s my fault you cheated on me?”
“No. But you turned your back on everything. Your family. Your friends. The club. And I’m tired of you blaming me for it. I may have given you a reason to leave, Indy. But you chose to stay away.”
“Why wouldn’t I choose to stay away? I’d rather be gone than hang around with a bunch of backwater hillbillies on Harleys, who treat their women like shit.”
“And I suppose you’re so fucking perfect!”
When she scoffed, I lost my patience.
“You want to be gone. Fine! But them out there. You owe them your respect. They’re your family.” I pointed to my chest. “I’m your family.”
“They’re not my family and neither are you,” she yelled, her eyes burning right through me. “You’re nothing to me!”
Her words inflicted the pain she intended. Right into my heart. But I didn’t have time to react, because one minute she was looking at me like she hated me, and the next minute she was vomiting all over my boots.
“Brilliant,” I said, stepping back. Without hesitation, I threw her over my shoulder and walked her through my bedroom to the small bathroom attached to it. She struggled but was no match for me in size or strength. When I let her down beside the toilet she threw up again.
And then again.
I left her to get some club soda from the clubhouse kitchen.
But by the time I got back to the bathroom she had passed out with her arms wrapped around the toilet and her face pressing against the seat. Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth.
“I guess some things don’t change,” I said, using a wet washcloth to wipe her lips. I smoothed away a lock of hair from her cheek and felt an all-too-familiar ache in my chest. Even passed out, she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
Lifting her into my arms, I carried her to my bed and carefully laid her down. She stirred and moaned, but then settled into my pillow. She wore a heavy bauble on her ring finger, but it had moved so I could make out the tattoo underneath.
I smiled. My heart suddenly hopeful.
It was still there.
After all these years, my name was still there.
INDY
Now
What the hell happened to me?
I attempted to open one eye but immediately closed it again when sunlight assaulted my retinas. My face was mashed against a pillow. Drool had dried in the corner of my mouth and I was desperate for water. But I wasn’t going to move. I wasn’t going to move ever again. I would just lie here, wherever here was, until the pain subsided, or I died.
Which seemed like a really good idea until my stomach decided otherwise.
Feeling sick, I pushed up on my hands and looked around me through squinted eyes. “What the hell?”
I was in Cade’s bedroom in the clubhouse.
But I didn’t have time to wonder how the hell I got there, because a few seconds later my stomach tried desperately to escape my body via my mouth. I made it to the small bathroom just in time to throw up violently. Not once. Not twice. But three times.
“Oh God, let me die. . .” I moaned. Sweat beaded on my brow and I wiped it away. When I was sure I wasn’t going to throw up again, I shakily rose to my feet and stumbled to the bathroom sink. I splashed water on my face in an attempt to pull myself out of my nightmare, then rinsed out my mouth and stared back at the pale mess in the mirror. I was a mess. A big, hungover mess.
What happened to me last night?
And then it all came flooding back. The party. The shots. The cocktails. The slurring. The insults. The harsh words I had flung at Cade and my meltdown that followed. Don’t kid yourself, Cade, I never belonged here. Who would want to belong here? As more fractured memories rushed at me, I swung back to the toilet and vomited again.
Of course, I look down my nose at them. Everybody does!
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Christ, what was wrong with me? Alcohol hadn’t just made me mean, it had made me a complete bitch. I was angry at Cade but I had taken it out on everyone around me.
You’re nothing to me.
Overwhelmed with regret and embarrassment, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. I would have to apologize to them . . . all of them. And I wouldn’t blame them if they never forgave me. I had behaved like an ass.
I got up and had a shower, combed my hair with what I assumed was Cade’s comb and found a clean t-shirt large enough to cover the top of my thighs. It was strange being around Cade’s belongings. Touching his things. Smelling the scent of his deodorant still lingering in the air. Feeling his shirt against my skin. I sat on the bed and let my fingers slide through his sheets, imagining him lying naked amongst them. Twelve years ago I had made love to him right here in this very bed. My body tingled, and for a moment I let myself wonder what it would feel like to be in this bed with him. Feeling him kiss me. Feeling him touch me again. Feeling him run his tongue along the edge of my throat and thrust my hands above my head as he slowly and powerfully made love to me. I closed my eyes and felt the longing reawaken in me.
I wanted to check out the scene of the crime.
My eyes sprang open and I pulled my hand back. Twelve years ago I had walked in on him fucking someone else in this bed. I wasn’t the last person he had made love to here. There had been many, probably hundreds of women tangled amongst these sheets since then, moaning and calling out his name as he fucked them.
I stood up. But I wasn’t going to be one of them. Not ever again.
Searching for my handbag and finding it on the bedside table I scooped my clothes off the floor and fled the room.
I was hoping for a clean getaway. But that was never going to happen in an MC clubhouse. Despite the early hour, I could hear voices coming from a main room off the hallway. From memory, it was a room the old ladies used for meetings or events, sometimes kids’ birthday parties. Unfortunately, if I wanted to avoid going out via the bar, which would be littered with passed-out bikers, I would have to pass through it to get to the back door. Either way, I was going to have to face someone.
I clutched my clothes against my chest and made my way toward the sounds of the voices. When I walked in the room, Mirabella, Abby, Cherry, and Anna all looked up from a table covered in what looked like some kind of paper craft. Going by the lack of smiles on their faces, it was obvious I had some serious apologies to give. Without a word, they looked away and resumed making paper streamers.
“I really don’t know what to say,” I said, my voice raspy. “Other than I am very sorry. My behavior last night was unforgivable and I can only hope you ladies forgive me.”
They all looked up again. Mirabella gave me a soft smile. Cherry and Anna looked at her and then did the same. Abby, however, looked u
ncomfortable, almost as if she was ashamed to look at me.
“Being back here is a bit of a mind fuck,” I continued. “But that doesn’t excuse my behavior, and I really am sorry. I said a lot of shit that I didn’t mean.”
When no one said anything, I felt crushed. And ashamed. But I couldn’t blame them. I was a bitch. And MC women didn’t forgive easily. There was an awful silence as if I wasn’t in the room, and I had a feeling I had blown it. Not that I should care. I told myself that I didn’t but in reality, I did. I wasn’t an asshole but I had certainly behaved like one.
I turned to leave.
“You know, we could use an extra pair of hands with these paper streamers,” Mirabella said. “The wedding is less than a week away and you can never have too many decorations.”
I turned back to look at them.
“We have a lot of wedding buntings to make, too,” Cherry said, holding up a handful of triangle cut-outs.
“And you look like you could use a strong cup of coffee,” Anna said, rising out of her chair. “Sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. They were going to give me another chance. But when I looked at Abby, I realized it was going to take more than an apology for her. She and Cade were family, and I had slayed her cousin with insults in front of the entire club.
I sat down next to her, and Anna placed a cup of coffee in front of me.
“I’m sorry for all those things I said to Cade last night,” I said to Abby.
“You know, I think I saw some pretty cool decorations in the storage locker outside,” Anna said to Mirabella and Cherry. It was an obvious attempt to give Abby and me some privacy.
“Let’s go check them out,” Mirabella replied.
But Cherry didn’t catch on. “Really, I was in there the other day and I didn’t see—” She stopped when Anna kicked her chair, and then slowly nodded. “Of course, we should go and have a look.”
Once they were gone, Abby looked at me.
She was pissed.
“You’ve changed,” she said. “And not in a good way.”
“Abby, I’m sorry—”
“It’s bad enough that you just left. Just turned your back on all of us. But then to come back here and treat us all like we’re trash? Who the fuck are you?”
“Good question.” I raked my hands down my face and sighed. “I thought I knew the answer to that very question. But I’m more confused now than ever.” I shook my head as if I could somehow shake my confusion free. “I’m sorry. I made a complete fool of myself and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”
“What Cade did to you was shit. And you’ve gotta believe how much shit we gave him for what he did. We gave him hell. We were your best friends and he hurt you, so we rallied around you. But you weren’t here and you wouldn’t answer our phone calls or our messages.” Her eyes welled with tears. “Isaac loved you. I loved you. We were here to help you through it, but you just turned your back on us. It fucking hurt. It fucking hurt like hell.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered feeling lousy. I remembered all the text messages from Abby and Isaac and how I had ignored them. Not because I wanted to but because it hurt. They were a direct vein to Cade, and he was my kryptonite.
“Good. If you’re really sorry, you’ll go and sort things out with Cade. Until then, you and me don’t have anything to say to one another.” Her ice-blue eyes found mine and I could see the pain on her face. “What happened between you and Cade affected more than just the two of you. Isaac may have forgiven you, but I’m still a little pissed. I’m still trying to work out why I was so easily cast aside. So, go and sort it out. Then maybe you and I can talk.”
My heart sank but I nodded. “Fair enough.”
“And go home.” She stood up. “You look like hell.”
INDY
Now
I decided to take Abby’s advice and go home, have a second shower, and pull my shit together. When I was feeling more human, I would find Cade and apologize for my behavior. I would be honest with him and let him know how mind fucked I felt.
But I needed another cup of coffee, and some greasy food before I faced him.
Unfortunately, fate had other ideas. As I was leaving, I ran straight into him walking out of his room.
We paused a safe distance from each other.
“Nice shirt,” he said, his eyes sweeping up and down the length of me.
I had forgotten I was wearing one of his t-shirts.
Feeling embarrassed, I clutched my bundle of clothes tighter to me, painfully aware of how short the tee was.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said, awkwardly.
He leaned against the doorway and folded his arms across his chest. “Seemed to me you had an awful lot to say last night.”
I tried to swallow the knot of shame in my throat. I hated being wrong. But worse, I hated being an ass. And something told me Cade wasn’t going to let me off easily.
“I’m so sorry, Cade. I was such an ass.”
“Yeah, you were.”
“Clearly I’m not a good drunk. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Which part? Where you accused me of cheating on my non-existent girlfriend or when you called me a slut?”
I cringed.
I hated that word.
“Or do you mean when you called everyone here a bunch of backwater hillbillies on Harleys?” He continued. “Or that memorable moment when you told me I meant nothing to you right before you puked all over my boots?”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Boy, when I messed up, I made sure I did it in spectacular form.
Christ, I was such an asshole.
“All of it,” I said, shifting uneasily on my bare feet. “I can’t apologize enough . . . to you, the girls, the club. I was being an ass—”
“Ride with me,” he said suddenly.
“Excuse me?”
“You want me to accept your apology? Come ride with me.”
It was natural for me to want to argue with him, but I thought better of it and relaxed.
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
He leaned in and looked a little smug. “I know. See you back here at ten.”
I watched his broad back as he started to walk away.
“Be here or the deal is off and I won’t ever forgive you.” He called over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.
I stared at the empty corridor and dropped my hands to my side wondering what the fuck had just happened.
Outside, I ran into Davey, the club’s treasurer. Somewhere in his forties, he was a big teddy bear of a man.
When he saw me, he pretended to duck for cover.
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “Seems I’m a bad drunk. I have this murky memory of saying you have Neanderthal hands.”
At some point during the night he had walked in. I had a vague, fractured recollection of me shoving my finger into his chest and telling him to lose weight.
Why I had told him he had Neanderthal hands was a complete mystery to me. I didn’t even know what that meant.
He took pity on me. “Wanna hug it out?”
Normally I’d say no. Davey could be an old pervert.
“Come on,” he said, his arms out wide.
Davey was a good guy. I couldn’t believe I’d been such a dick to him. So I accepted his hug.
But of course, he squeezed my ass.
My near-naked ask.
“Just kidding,” he said, releasing me.
I smacked him on the arm for the butt feel. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Admit it, if I didn’t, you’d be disappointed.”
I tugged on the hem of Cade’s tee wishing it covered more of my thighs.
“Come on, sweet face. Let me give you a lift home. I don’t want you getting into a cab with some stranger leering all over you.”
“Why do I get the feeling that a cab is
probably the safer option here?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Davey winked as he opened the car door for me. “You couldn’t be more safe with me, honey. Don’t think for a second that Cade wouldn’t kill any man who tried anything with you.”
Because I had messed up my pants by puking all over them, and because my other clothes weren’t back from the dry cleaners, my options were limited. I still had another pair of black pants from McGovern’s, but let’s face it, they weren’t really my style. And as I looked at them laid out on my bed I wondered how long I was going to keep trying to convince myself that they were.
Still wrapped in my towel from the shower, I opened my wardrobe to see what I had left behind all those years ago. It was pretty sparse. There was a jacket, a pair of jeans, and a few shirts.
Everything smelled like the patchouli fragrant discs I’d left hanging next to an old Led Zeppelin T-shirt.
I stared at the jeans. Would they even fit me after twelve years? I reached out to touch them and the worn denim felt familiar against my palm. Did I even want to know?
Apparently, I did, because two minutes later I was bouncing up and down to get them up and over my thirty-year-old thighs before zipping them up.
I slipped on a tank top and an old pair of knee-high boots I found at the bottom of the closet, and then stood in front of the mirror.
“They look good,” came a familiar, female voice behind me.
Startled, I turned around to see Ronnie standing in the doorway.
“I wanted to see if they still fit,” I explained.
Knowing, hooded eyes gleamed over me.
“The jeans?” Ronnie asked, her wild curls gently brushing her face as she tilted her head to the side. “Or the old feelings between you and Cade? I heard he was taking you for a ride today.”
This was typical Ronnie Calley—the straight-shooting biker queen. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush.
I looked away.
“Those days are long gone, Ronnie,” I said, studying my reflection in the mirror.
“Sure, sugar. But seems to me you and my son have a lot of unfinished business to tend to before either of you can move on… if last night was anything to go by.”