by Eliza Marsh
“But I think I could be good at it. I know that place like the back of my hand, I could do it.” Jackie paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “It’d be nice to have something that’s just mine, ya know? Something that I did by myself for me.”
“What about your paintings? That’s something you did yourself.” Charlotte was trying to play devil’s advocate, trying to present all sides.
Jackie shook her head, handing the stuffed animal in her hand to Oliver, who laid on the floor happily. “I can’t seem to paint when I’m trying to sell it. It’s fun when it’s something for the house or a painting for a bike or even the tattoo I did for Jagger. But trying to force myself to do it just doesn’t work. Besides, I can’t make a living off of that. Owning the diner, that’s something I could hand down to Ollie when I’m ready to retire. It’s a real future.”
“So that’s what you’re after, longevity.” Charlotte nodded knowingly, watching Logan play with his own toys. “You want something that will provide for your family in the long run.”
“They can’t be bikers forever. What if something happens? What if he leaves? I need a backup, a real backup. Not just something to pay the bills and barely get by.”
“I hear ya, I do. Have you talked to Dean about it?”
Jackie was shaking her head before Charlotte had even finished the sentence. “He’s been so moody lately. I haven’t had the nerve to bring it up.”
“Girl, fuck his moods.” One glaring difference between the two was their ability to handle bullshit, and Charlotte would take none of it. She was very straightforward and would call anyone out, even if it was the largest biker of the whole charter. “He is a grown-ass man, tell him to get his shit together and that you want to buy the diner. His feelings are not important right now. You do this for you whether he agrees with it or not.”
Shrugging her shoulders, the slightly more reserved Jackie was having a hard time with the idea. “It’d be hard to do without his support, though. I’d have to get all of the money from the bank. I’m not sure they would give it to me.”
The dark-skinned woman rolled her eyes at Jackie’s hesitance. “You popped his child out, so he owes you. Don’t give him a choice. Tell him you’re doing it.”
Jackie laughed at her friend’s determination, wishing it could be that easy. “You’re right. I should at least talk to him about it. I don’t have long before someone else buys it anyways. If I’m going to do it, I need to do it. Just have to catch him in a good mood.” She looked down at her watch and groaned. “I have to get to work. I should be able to get off around seven if that’s okay with you?”
“Whatever you need, mama.”
Kneeling down to Oliver’s level, Jackie kissed him several times and laughed as he giggled. The smile melted her as it usually did, a warm feeling spreading through her. “Bye, my love, see you soon.” She stood, leaning over to hug Charlotte quickly. “Thanks again.”
With a quick kiss for baby Logan and a last wave to the group, Jackie grabbed her coat and was on her way to the diner she would hopefully soon own.
27
“Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Nash walked into the garage, Taco flying past him as he ran towards the clubhouse at full speed. His curiosity got the better of him when the voices grew louder as he entered bay three.
He was very surprised to see the mild-mannered Ian riled up and ready for a fight.
He was very unsurprised to see Dean was the one causing the issues.
“You can’t just show up whenever you want, do nothing, and then expect to get paid the same!” Ian shouted, his usually perfect hair disheveled as he waved his hands angrily.
Dean huffed with anger at the younger man, looking down at him arrogantly as he responded. “I’ve been here a hell of a lot longer than you, so you don’t get to order me around.”
“All I asked is that you do your job! I don’t think anyone here would argue that you’ve kinda sucked lately.”
As he looked around the room, Dean’s gaze dared anyone else in attendance to make a statement. When nobody spoke, he turned his attention back to Ian with a nasty sneer. “And yet you’re the only one in my face. So I guess it’s just you that has the problem.”
Ian shrugged, an angry smirk marring his beautiful face. “That’s fine because I definitely have a problem with you.”
“Then I guess it’s just your ass I’m gonna kick.”
“Dean…” Nash interrupted before anything could go further. The larger man turned to face his closest friend with eyes ablaze.
“What? You wanna go too?” Dean asked loudly, completely forgetting about Ian as he turned to face his new target.
Nash leveled him with a bored glare, not willing to be pulled into the childish argument. “Take a walk,” he said gruffly, not backing down even as Dean took a few steps towards him. The pair stared each other down, despite Nash being noticeably shorter, as the tension in the garage grew exponentially.
This close in proximity, Nash was able to observe the widely dilated pupils of Dean’s eyes and immediately realized he was on something. He wasn’t surprised, considering the man’s recent behavior and past history, but it was still a grave disappointment. “Take a walk, or we take it up with Luke,” he warned, knowing the club president would have a serious issue with Dean’s fall off the wagon. Anyone who had been around awhile knew how far back the two went, how much Luke had saved the young biker.
“Take what up with me?” a suspiciously calm voice asked, interrupting the latest standoff. The group turned to watch Luke enter the garage, his hands casually shoved in his pockets and a sheepish Taco following behind him. The older man surveyed the scene, could feel the tension between his guys and would have known Dean was the culprit even without Taco’s quick recap. “Something you want to tell me, Dean?” Luke asked innocently, knowing full-well that Dean was under the influence of something once again.
He also knew calling him out on it right now would just escalate the situation further. Luke didn’t want to start something in front of half the charter and several of the civilian mechanics. Dean just stared at him, the anger dying slightly as he recognized who he was now speaking to. It was never a good idea to pick a fight with Luke, no matter how right you thought you were.
“Nah,” he finally said, rubbing a hand under his nose. “I’m good.”
With that, he quickly exited the garage bay before anyone else could confront him and headed for his bike. Luke watched sternly as the long-haired man walked away, then turned to the gawking onlookers still standing around.
“Don’t y’all have work to do?” he snapped, the crowd scattering rapidly at his words and pretending to go back to work.
Nash remained, closing the distance between them. “Guessing you had already figured it out then.”
Sighing heavily, Luke nodded as the pair watched Dean ride out of the parking lot with a squeal of his tires. “We found drugs at the Dead Saints hangout. I saw the moment the idea entered his head. I had just hoped he would manage to find his own way without getting into trouble. That was wishful thinking.”
Running a hand through his short hair, Nash grunted in response. This was going to be a problem, not just for the charter. “Who’s gonna tell Jack?”
The club president turned his head to look at Nash, a grim look in his eyes. “Something tells me she’s gonna find out sooner rather than later whether we tell her or not.”
28
“I want to buy the diner.”
Dean paused, perched on the bed as he bent to take off his boots. “What?” he asked slowly in reply, still mid-reach for his laces as he looked up.
“I want. To buy. The diner,” Jackie responded firmly, hands on her hips as she took advantage of her standing position to at least attempt to tower over him.
He yanked his boot off and let it fall to the carpeted floor of their bedroom with a resounding thud. Leaning his elbows onto his knees, he pressed the palms o
f his hands into his eyes and rubbed them tiredly. It had been a very long day at the garage after his fight with Ian and confrontation with Luke. The man knew Dean was back on the drugs that had plagued him in his early adulthood, and Luke was just waiting for him to slip up and be forced to admit that he once again had a problem.
The last thing Dean needed right now was a fight about some stupid thing Jackie was deciding she wanted to do. “Why the hell would you want to do that?” He groaned, his hands traveling from his eyes to run through his tangled mess of hair.
“Because otherwise it’s going to be sold and torn down and turned into some uppity coffee shop that nobody wants.
“So?” he stood from the bed and swayed a little, the last dregs of his afternoon cocaine buzz leaving his system. “Just get a new job.”
She rolled her eyes as he began stripping, his intent to head to the shower and stay there until the hot water ran out. “It’s not about the job,” Jackie replied matter-of-factly as she watched him. “It’s about the diner. Everyone loves the diner. It’s basically historic.”
“You don’t know anything about owning a business.”
Crossing her arms, she pinned him with a glare. “Well, with any other business, I might agree. But I know this diner from front to back, inside and out. I thought you’d at least be a little supportive, fuck.”
He sighed tiredly and stopped just shy of entering the bathroom. Resting his hand on the door frame, he turned slightly to face her. “Look, you can do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to pay for your little project.”
With that, he crossed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving Jackie to huff in annoyance at his blatant disregard for something important to her. She was really starting to get fed up with his flippant attitude of late, not sure what had brought about the change from his usual groundedness. At the very least, he should have seen the benefits that taking over the diner could bring them - a legal income, a flexible schedule, a stable solution to their problems.
Grabbing the basket of laundry she had brought into the room with her, she moved to the dresser to put stuff away as she heard the shower turn on. Of course, she had been relying on a little enthusiasm from Dean to fund her plan, so now she wasn’t sure how feasible the idea was after all. There was no way she could come up with a hundred grand to pay for the place on her own. She would have to hope that the bank would find her a good candidate for a small business loan. But with her history of odd jobs and no degree, that wasn’t likely. There was another option, though it was very likely to cause even more problems between her and Dean. It would also involve talking to Luke, who still wasn’t her biggest fan even if he had finally accepted her. He just might be her only option if she really did want to pursue the purchase.
Sighing in frustration, she yanked open the top drawer of the dresser and began throwing socks into it haphazardly. If Dean was going to be an asshole, then he could fold his own socks for all she cared. The force of a particular throw caused a small wooden box to bounce out from its hiding place in the back of the drawer. She frowned down at it, having never seen it before. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she picked it up, carefully examining it. Listening to confirm that Dean was still in the shower and knowing it was morally questionable of her to be snooping through his things, she pulled the lid open. She immediately dropped the box back into the drawer as the contents came into view.
Tiny bags of white powder.
Her heart sank, having watched enough television to know that it was some kind of narcotic. And judging by the limited amount and its secretive location, Dean wasn’t just selling it to make an extra buck.
Eyes filling up with tears, Jackie sniffed as she tried to contain herself. Part of her was relieved, at least finally knowing the reason why his behavior had been so erratic of late. She had heard a few mentions of his past experience with drug addictions and knew that it wouldn’t take much for him to succumb to the power of them once again. She wasn’t sure what to do, how to help him when he clearly didn’t want to be helped.
The guys had to know that he’d picked up the habit again, right? Did they just not see it as a big deal? Were they all using drugs?
Taking a deep breath to quell her rising panic, she shoved the box back to its original position. Jackie shut the drawer, leaving the half-empty basket of clean clothes on top of the dresser. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and dashed to the kitchen, hoping to make a quick call before Dean got out of the shower.
The phone rang only twice before someone answered in a hurry.
“Everything okay?” Jagger asked quickly, knowing if she was calling him, it probably wasn’t good.
“Dean is on drugs,” she replied lowly, feeling no need to sugar coat things with one of his closest friends.
There was a pause, then a muffled curse. “You’re sure?” was the cautious response.
“Found them hidden in a drawer, and he’s been acting more like a bipolar nut job than usual for the last two months. So yeah, I’m sure.”
Another pause. “Okay.”
She made a face that he couldn’t see as she started pacing the kitchen. “Okay? Hello! What am I supposed to do? How do I get him clean?”
Jagger sighed on the other end of the phone, running a hand through his black hair. “You don’t. You leave him be for now. He doesn’t get clean unless he wants to get clean, I remember that vividly from last time.” She tried to interrupt him, to tell him she had to do something before it got worse. “I’ll come up in the morning and try to talk to him. But he gets really testy when someone calls him out on it, so leave it for me to handle. You’ve got enough on your plate.” He could hear the wheels turning in her head and knew she wasn’t listening. “I’m serious, Jack. Let me handle it. I’m sure Luke has already noticed and is working on it too. We know how he gets when he’s on something, so let us fix it.”
“Yeah, you got it,” she replied casually, already knowing she wasn’t going to heed that advice. It wasn’t in her nature to sit around while the people she cared about were in trouble.
“Fine, don’t listen to me,” Jagger said in frustration, throwing a hand in the air. “But when he blows up at you and says a bunch of mean things, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“See you in the morning, Jag!”
She hung up the phone before he could try to talk her out of it again. That wasn’t exactly how she had imagined the call to go, had expected more tips and tricks on how to break his new habit. His words did briefly make her pause and consider the situation. Maybe she should wait for him to try to handle it first?
Her thought process was interrupted as a wet-haired Dean made his way into the living room, sliding on his beat-up leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt. He headed towards the door, not saying a word, and she was going to miss her chance if she didn’t get it together.
“Where are you going?” she asked, trying to steel herself for the conversation to come.
“Out,” was his abrupt response, his voice scratchy and low as he avoided eye contact. Grabbing his keys from the table next to the door, his hand was on the knob when her voice stopped him.
“I know about the drugs.”
They were both still as statues, her watching him and him staring ahead at the door. Jackie could see his breathing become heavy, his grip on the doorknob tightening. She braced herself, ready for the hostility that Jagger had warned her would come.
What she wasn’t ready for was the shattered expression on Dean’s face as he finally looked at her. It was a heartbreaking mix of fear and guilt that had her taking a step back from the force of it. Tears welled up in her eyes once again as she could see how much her statement had affected him.
Still, he said nothing, merely turning back to the door and opening it. With a final glance over his shoulder, he exited the apartment and left Jackie standing alone to ask herself exactly what had just happened.
29
Dean stared at t
he two small plastic baggies on the wooden table in front of him, the noise from the crowd in the bar barely reaching his ears. He had been sitting there for almost half an hour, waiting for his fight to start.
Sitting and waiting and thinking.
His routine of late had involved a quick hit from his latest addiction before his first round, to ride that smooth high as he beat the crap out of someone.
But that idea suddenly seemed less appealing, given recent developments.
He had never intended for Jackie to find out about his habit, had always planned to keep it a secret. He didn’t want her to see him as weak, as dependent on a substance. Not that he actually was addicted, he was still in control, or so he thought. But it was important to him that he was the backbone of his family, the provider.
Dean put his head in his hands as he leaned against the table in front of him. Yet another thing to send his life spiraling. When had things gotten so complicated? He just wanted to go back to the way things used to be - simple, carefree, no responsibilities.
He downed another shot, barely acknowledging the burn in his throat as his whole body began to feel numb. If only he could get his mind to go numb, to stop having all these thoughts running around his head.
Staring down at the heroin again, he knew there was an easy solution. Just this once, maybe he could do a little more than usual.
He opened the small bag, dumping its entire contents onto the back of his hand carefully, unconcerned with his surroundings. He had never taken a whole bag at once, not since his younger days at least. Knowing it was a terrible idea, but wanting to just not feel for a while, Dean inhaled all of the white powder.
The instant headrush was like nothing he remembered, every synapse in his brain firing simultaneously and sending him soaring high. He sat wholly detached from his body as the drugs worked their way into his system, oblivious to the world around him. A fuzzy voice entered his brainwaves a few minutes later, but it took him a while to recognize that someone was speaking to him.