Too Bad So Sad

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Rome’s head hung. “I didn’t.”

  And that was exactly what I’d expected him to say.

  “What happened?” I pushed, hoping he’d tell me.

  Rome looked up at the windows behind my head, his face impassive.

  “What happened was that I was stupid and did some really stupid things when I was drunk. I shouldn’t have even been drinking in the first place. I lost control. They are things that I’ll never be able to forgive myself for…even though, at the time, I didn’t know that he and Tara were a thing. I just knew that there was a hot, willing woman ready to…you know.” He sounded disgusted with himself.

  “You had no idea that Tyler was seeing Tara?” I asked. “How does that work when y’all are best friends?”

  I mean, obviously it had to have worked somehow for all of this to have happened to them.

  Rome looked at me and I was struck deeply by the pain in his eyes. This man was hurting. Badly.

  “Tyler and I hadn’t seen each other in months. Football season was really busy for me and I was lucky to find time to sleep, let alone see him. Which turned around and bit me on the ass, because while we had a home game one weekend, this woman approaches me at a post-game celebration I had at my place, and since I was high on adrenaline and coming off a huge win, I decided to blow off some steam with her…only thing was, she was Tyler’s and I had no fuckin’ idea until Tyler showed up at my place the next day to catch up and the two of them pass in the fuckin’ doorway while he was coming in and she was going out.” He groaned. “To make matters worse, he wouldn’t listen to my side of the story and fuckin’ Tara told him that I knew who she was when I fuckin’ didn’t…”

  I winced. “And Tyler didn’t stick around long enough for you to tell him anything else…and you have a kid with her.”

  That part he hadn’t shared, but he didn’t look surprised to find out that I knew.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  I smiled sadly. “I have a friend who’s good with computers. She helped me.”

  Rome grunted. “Friends are good to have.”

  This man sounded like he had none.

  I immediately felt awful.

  This wasn’t a man who had done what he’d done on purpose. He would’ve never hurt his friend.

  That much I knew and I had a feeling that, deep down, Tyler knew it, too.

  “Your son has cancer?” I asked quietly.

  Rome’s hand that was resting on top of the counter tightened into a fist. “Leukemia.”

  I hummed in sadness. “How’s he doing?”

  Rome swallowed. “Him…okay. Me? Not so good. Each time I have to see him go through another round of chemo, I feel my heart stall in my chest. And Tara doesn’t make it fuckin’ easy to do anything. It’s a nightmare and the only reason she’s still around is because she likes my money.”

  And that’s how the next hour went as I spoke with Rome. He talked about his son. He talked about what happened with Tyler. He talked about his motorcycle club and how he and Tyler were supposed to join it together.

  He talked and talked and talked.

  He didn’t stop talking until the pretty little front counter lady came back for the trash and to tell us it was almost closing time.

  “Hey, y’all,” the woman replied softly. “It’s time for me to head out…I’m sorry to kick you out, but I gotta go.”

  Rome looked at the woman and nodded. “Sorry, babe. We’ll get out now. Thanks for letting us stay a little longer.”

  It was then I realized that the little hole-in-the-wall place that had the best street tacos that I’d ever tasted only stayed open until two and it was well past three.

  Shit.

  “I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “Your tacos were really, really good. Like, if you ever want to send the recipe to me, I’d love you forever. I don’t get over here that often, but swear to God, I think my man will love them.”

  “It’s my grandma’s recipe and she swore me to secrecy. Grandma would absolutely kill me if she found out that I handed it to some random stranger…but you come in here more often and come at a time when Abuela is here, she might very well let you have it if you ask her,” the owner replied.

  I grinned. “I’ll bring Tyler. He’ll enjoy it, too.”

  As I said this, I stood and kept my eyes on the woman and not Rome.

  Which was too bad seeing as Rome’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July when I mentioned bringing Tyler back.

  Moments later, Rome was walking out the door and I was following him.

  The entire time, I watched the woman watch Rome.

  “She likes you,” I murmured as we made our way outside.

  Rome looked over his shoulder at where the woman promptly looked away and shrugged.

  “She doesn’t like me. She’s married. She feels sorry for me. There’s a difference.” He grimaced. “She makes hats for the kids,” he murmured. “When they lose their hair, so they have something to cover their bald little heads. I think she sews them?”

  “Knit?” I offered.

  He nodded. “Yeah, that. She knits them. Donates like two hundred at a time.”

  My brows rose. “That’s a lot.”

  He nodded. “It is.”

  Things fell silent after that and I wanted nothing more than to pull the big man into a hug and tell him everything was going to be all right.

  But I didn’t.

  One, he was still the enemy, even though he had a damn good story.

  And two, everything probably wouldn’t be all right. He’d told me so.

  Things weren’t looking good for his son…and by the end of the year, he could very well no longer be here.

  I knew one thing, though.

  Rome needed his friend.

  Chapter 14

  One thing that sucks about being a grownup is not being able to use the excuse ‘my mom said no’ when you don’t want to do something.

  -Bumper Sticker

  Tyler

  I frowned at the note that I saw on my door.

  Pulling it off, I glared at the slanted, obviously angry writing.

  You’re a little bitch.

  I sighed.

  Pushing open the door to my home, I wasn’t surprised to see Reagan at my stove, cooking something that smelled absolutely delicious.

  “This note is kind of harsh, don’t ya think?” I asked, waving it in the air like a small cease and desist.

  “Yes.” She paused. “It is, but it’s also deserved when you consider the fact that you told Theo—my freakin’ boss— that I was a trespasser!”

  My lips twitched. “But you are.”

  She shrugged. “I am…but it was in the name of science, so it’s okay.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Did you know in Texas, if you trespass on someone’s property at night, that they can legally shoot you if they fear for their life?”

  I knew that Reagan never meant to break any kind of law, but honestly, she needed to be more careful in what she was doing.

  She could get seriously hurt.

  “Whatever,” she murmured. “And I already told Theo that I would be more careful, so you can calm your tits.”

  I snorted. “My tits are calm, Reagan. Are yours?”

  She looked down at them in contemplation. “They were kind of rowdy earlier when I wrote that note, just sayin’, but you did piss me off. It sucks to be reprimanded by your boss. A little warning would’ve been nice.”

  My reason for saying something to Theo in the first place was a complaint from one of my neighbors about a woman on his property hanging over the side of his dock for an hour studying the moss on his dock piling.

  I didn’t need to know anything further about his trespasser to know that it’d been Reagan. And it just so happened to be that Theo was in my office again and heard the call come in.

  It was kind of hard to hide that fact and when he saw me unconc
erned about the call, he’d asked why.

  I then had to tell him that Reagan liked to go wherever the moss led her—damn the consequences.

  “You should probably stay away from Jayco’s property from now on. He calls it in if we put the trash cans out and we’re too loud. He won’t hesitate to call in again about you,” I pointed out.

  Reagan snickered, then her face settled into a serious expression.

  “I did something today,” she murmured.

  My eye twitched.

  “Did you break and enter, too?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No.”

  “Then what?” I asked, studying her face. She looked extremely nervous.

  She looked down at her fingernails. “I had lunch with someone today.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  She cleared her throat. “His son has leukemia.”

  My heart broke.

  Leukemia was a bad deal.

  “That sucks. Is he from here?” I questioned. “I thought you went to Kilgore today.”

  She nodded. “I did…he’s actually from there…”

  “Then who was it?” I pushed.

  She was usually better at getting her words out than this.

  “It was Rome.”

  Roaring started inside my ears.

  “You had lunch with Rome?” I asked, deceptively calm.

  She nodded.

  That’s about when I exploded.

  “Why the fuck would you do something like that?!” I bellowed, raising my arms. “He’s…”

  “He’s got a son who’s dying,” Reagan said softly.

  She didn’t need to yell.

  Not with those words.

  “And he named his son Tyler. Well, technically, it’s Matias Tyler, but he’s still named after you.”

  I gasped in a breath. “No.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “No,” I repeated, my mind lost in thought.

  When we were younger, we made a pact that one day we’d name our children after each other.

  He was to use Tyler as a middle name, and I was supposed to use Roman. That was the deal.

  And he’d stuck to it, despite our falling out.

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  “Bear Bottom,” she murmured. “I can take you to him…but he’s not hard to find. He’s not hiding.”

  I looked away. “I’m really fucking mad at you, but…”

  ***

  Three hours later, after getting out of my shift at work and making sure that I had everything covered, I made the drive to Bear Bottom.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I got there, but Rome throwing up on the side of the road wasn’t one of them.

  There was a man in the same leather vest that Rome had on his own back standing next to him, glaring at me and telling me without words that I needed to get the fuck away.

  I didn’t listen to his glare and instead kept my eyes trained on Rome.

  He heard my motorcycle coming and still he didn’t get up off his knees.

  And that was when I realized what I’d done.

  I’d fucked up.

  I’d left my best friend to fight something on his own and all because I’d been too butthurt over a woman—a woman that I knew first hand was just as devious as she was beautiful.

  Goddammit.

  Pulling my bike over to the side of the road, I ignored the man giving me the death glare and stopped my bike well behind the puke spray.

  “Why is it you always throw up on the side of the road?” I asked, sounding a lot more laidback than I actually was.

  Rome paused in his throwing up and he turned to stare at me.

  He had puke running down his beard and his eyes were absolutely haunted.

  “The last time you did this, we almost got hit by a bus,” I pointed out just as an eighteen-wheeler passed us, making sure to honk as he did.

  I flinched at the sound, Rome and the guy beside him both flipped the trucker off.

  I snorted.

  Rome came to his feet and he stared at me warily as he got the leftover puke out of his beard by wiping the bottom of his shirt over it.

  “So, I heard that you talked to my girl,” I murmured.

  It took me an hour to get from Hostel to Bear Bottom. And thirty minutes to convince Reagan that she was better off studying her weeds than coming with me.

  She hadn’t been happy about my weeds comment, but when she realized that I needed to do this on my own, she relented.

  Then she’d told me that she was going to work on manners with her dog—who was still fucking nameless despite it being weeks—and told me that she did have a little work to do.

  After giving her a quick, hard kiss on the mouth, I’d ridden out and had come straight here, but I hadn’t even made it fully into the town before I’d spotted him.

  Now, he was staring at me like I was an apparition.

  He swallowed. “My boy might die.”

  That’s when I walked up to Rome and threw my arms around him, bringing his big body into mine.

  Rome inhaled and it sounded like the breath was yanked straight from his soul. It was full of tears, anger, and heartache.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to fucking do,” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes and felt sick to my stomach.

  “Where is he?”

  “Home.”

  “Let’s go see him.”

  Rome squeezed me tighter. “He’d like that.”

  I closed my eyes and didn’t once hesitate.

  “Let’s go, Rome.”

  Rome let me go and he took a step back.

  The man that was behind him like a silent sentinel nodded his head at me.

  “Tyler, this is Josiah.” Rome sounded like he’d gargled with gravel and then chased it down with a fifth of whiskey. “Better known as Liner.”

  I offered him my hand. “Tyler.”

  Josiah aka ‘Liner’ took my extended hand and gave me a nod. “Nice to finally fucking meet you.”

  My lips twitched.

  But I wasn’t laughing a goddamn bit ten minutes later when Rome made his way into a nice house on the outskirts of Bear Bottom.

  At first it was because Tara was there, looking mad as hell. Then it was because on the couch, as far away from Tara as the boy could be while still being in the same fuckin’ room, was a little boy who already owned a piece of my heart just because of who his father was.

  The little boy’s eyes moved up to meet mine and what I read in them instantly made tears spring to my eyes.

  I was a grown man.

  I dealt with hardened criminals on a daily basis.

  I’d served in Iraq and Afghanistan and I’d seen some really fuckin’ awful things.

  But seeing this little boy, this sick, drained and tired little boy, giving me Rome’s smile was enough to shatter my entire fuckin’ heart.

  “Matias,” the boy, my little namesake, said. “I’ve been wondering when I would get to meet you.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

  Rome’s son smiled at me. “It’s not too late.”

  I had a feeling that not only did he understand the double entendre, but he meant to use it, too.

  This little boy looked so much like Rome that it hurt and he was wise well beyond his few years.

  “What is he doing here?” Tara asked. “Better yet, what are you doing here?”

  I didn’t bother to look at or respond to her and neither did Rome.

  Liner did, though.

  “Why don’t you go get yourself a manicure and stop swinging your bitch around for everyone to hear?” Liner drawled. “Or are you waiting for Rome to offer you his credit card? Don’t you normally leave the moment he arrives?”

  Rome had ignored Tara and instead went over to the couch where his son was.

  I, on the other hand, had frozen right ins
ide the door.

  Memories slammed through me and I remembered exactly how she used to be.

  Snarling at me. Hating my job. Disliking my sisters.

  At the time, all of those hadn’t been a big deal. I’d remembered vividly that she’d immediately apologized for herself, saying that she was just cranky.

  I’d been so caught up in my job, trying to integrate back into general society after being in the military and working my ass off to get onto the SWAT team that I hadn’t had it in me to look hard enough to see Tara for her true self.

  One time in particular stood out—showing me just how blind I’d been.

  It’d been a few days after New Year’s. I’d rushed home, late as hell thanks to an arrest that I’d made about ten minutes before my shift had ended and I’d been in a rush to get the game on.

  I’d arrived, said hello to Tara who’d been on my couch watching some fashion show on the television in my living room. I reached for the remote and immediately changed the channel to put the game on and Tara flew completely off the fuckin’ handle.

  She’d screamed at me for changing the channel, even though she knew that I was on my way home to watch the game—I always watched the games. I’d even told her an hour before that I was running late, that I wanted to watch the game and asked her to have it on for me, if she could get the television on that is, since she sometimes had trouble getting my complicated system on and tuned to the right channel.

  I remembered vividly the meltdown she’d had and how her eyes had narrowed at me when I’d continued to ignore her because Rome’s face had popped up on the screen with news of a possible injury. Something that I’d heard a bit about on my way home but needed the whole story now that I was home.

  When I continued to ignore her, she just yelled even louder.

  It was after she stormed up to me, stole the remote and turned the television off, that I’d gotten angry.

  After turning it back on and then raising my voice at her, she’d glared at me, glared at the screen where Rome’s smiling face had filled the fifty-two inches and then she stormed out.

  It wasn’t until later after I’d calmed down, that she’d called with an apology.

  I should’ve known then and there that she was a vindictive bitch.