Diamond in the Rough: RBMC Pittsburgh, PA Book 2

by Deja Voss

  I shake my head and grab my purse from behind the bar, throwing it over my shoulder. “I don’t accept that,” I say. “Either I did something, or I didn’t do something, and he’s not giving me an explanation either way. He has no reason to ice me out.”

  I know the demons he’s dealing with go a lot deeper than any argument we had, but I can’t spend the rest of my life loving half a man. I love the good in him, but he needs to know I’ll wrap my arms around the bad in him too. I’ll forgive him. I’ll free him. I’ll make him whole again. He just has to let me.

  “Do you mind covering for me for a couple hours?” I ask. “I know it’s my first day back and I know you probably have other stuff to do, but I need to go do something real quick.”

  “I don’t have anything else to do, love,” she says. “I planned on sitting my ass at the end of this bar all night and hanging out with you no matter what. I guess I could use the tip money.”

  I roll my eyes at her. It’s obvious things have slowed down here significantly since I’ve been off work. I know some of the prospects have been picking up shifts, but apparently nobody can mix a drink around here like I do. I was looking forward to getting things back to booming again, because at the rate things are going Gin will be lucky to walk out of here with enough money for a pack of cigs. We both know she could make a hundred times that dancing at the club.

  “I appreciate you humoring me. You know I’d do the same for you.”

  “Please tell me you’re serious! I know the guys at the club would eat you right up. You’d make us a fucking killing.”

  “Thank you for the offer,” I say. “We’ll see how this goes first before I make any promises.”

  If I lose Brass, maybe dancing at the club would be the best thing for me to do. I know I could never love another man again. I might as well use them to pay my mortgage.

  I give her a quick peck on the cheek and run out the door before I let my mind even go to a place where I’d take my clothes off for money.

  I get in my car and whip out of the driveway. I still have a couple more hours of daylight. I might not be able to talk to the demons Brass is dealing with, but something inside me tells me there’s a ghost who could answer all my questions.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Brass:

  I go to pull my bike out of the garage, but Bruiser stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, looking mad as hell. He steps right in front of my bike, kicking his boot into the tire as I go to turn the handlebars.

  I pull off my helmet. “The fuck are you doing, old man?” I ask.

  “Shut it off, son,” he says. I could easily bump him out of the way without hurting him, but I know that’ll just make things worse.

  I shut my bike off, but I don’t get off.

  “Why the hell did Erlick just call me and tell me you were looking for work down there? You think you can just go nomad on us and nobody’s gonna notice?” He taps a cigarette out of his pack and lights it up. The smile lines around his lips and eyes make it look like he’s laughing at me, but his body language looks like he’s about to take me out.

  “I just need to get out of town for minute. I have some shit to take care of.”

  “What the fuck?” Rowdy shouts from across the yard. “You were taking off?”

  Him and Lazarus come and stand next to Bruiser, making a barrier across garage door so I can’t get out now without causing some serious carnage.

  “It’s about time you had an intervention, boy,” Bruiser says, stubbing his cigarette out on the ground. He cracks his knuckles and walks up to me, grabbing me by the neck of my t-shirt.

  I’m easily twice this man’s size, but his crazy eyes and zero fucks attitude always knock me down a couple pegs. He’s a different kind of scary. What he lacks in size he makes up for in raw insanity.

  “Who took you in when you had nobody in the world?” he asks, his face directly in mine.

  When I first got put in the foster system, things looked like they were going to be alright. I still talk to my one “foster brother” to this day, but he left before I turned fifteen, and things went severely downhill from there. When Bruiser found me, I had been bounced from so many foster homes, I was living on the street, slinging bits of meth and weed just to keep myself fed. I was old enough to be charged as an adult for any crime I committed, but still to young to know any better about how to exist in the world.

  He gave me a place to sleep in exchange for me doing some running for the club, and once I stopped worrying about survival, I started working on myself. I knew I wanted to be the kind of guy who wouldn’t have to take shit from anybody ever again, but I also knew I wanted to be the kind of guy who could’ve stopped my father from murdering my mom. I packed on as much muscle as possible, covered my skin in ink, and fought my way up the ranks until I was officially the enforcer.

  If it weren’t for Bruiser, I might’ve been sitting next to my dad in a prison cell.

  “You know I owe my life to you, Bruiser.”

  “You’re damn right,” he says. “And if anybody else in this club, even my own fucking son, would’ve went rouge and pulled the shit you pulled, they’d still be trying to pull their head out of their ass. One thing I’ve always known about you, though, Brass, is you don’t open your mouth a lot, but when you do, everybody needs to listen. I know there’s a whole wide world up there in your brain that you don’t let us into, but when you take action, it’s the right action.”

  “I appreciate that.” I start to put my helmet back on, but he grabs it.

  “You aren’t thinking with your right brain right now, Brass.”

  “It’s the only option, prez. If I don’t get the fuck outta town, my dad’s gonna get out of jail and make all our lives a living hell. He’ll come for me. He’ll come for Jewel. He’ll come for the MC. At least if I get him out of the state, he won’t have a chance at hurting you guys.”

  He laughs in my face, not in an arrogant asshole kind of way, but like he pities me. Like I’m a little kid who got my hand caught in the gum ball machine slot or some shit.

  “You got a heart of gold, son. What you don’t realize, is you also got a new dad. That man who’s been sitting in jail, he’s nothing. He’s a piece of shit. He’s got no power over you anymore unless you let him have it.”

  “He knew Floyd. They were working on something on the inside.”

  “Good for fucking him,” Bruiser says. “Let him come for us. Let him come for Jewel. Let him come for you. You got a new family now, Brass, and we aren’t gonna let him drag you back down to his level.”

  My hands start to shake and I hang my head. “He should’ve got locked up forever. It’s my fault he’s even getting out.”

  My heart is racing and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I never said that out loud before. It’s always been in the back of my head, an annoying little buzz that doesn’t even quite go all the way away, but being a part of the MC always made it better. Jewel almost completely stifled the noise.

  Saying it out loud brings me a whole new set of emotions, like the weight off my chest is being lifted. “I never gave my mom the justice she deserved.”

  “You did, son,” Bruiser says, wrapping his arms around me in a big bear hug. “The way you live your life, the kind of man you’ve become, the way you always stand up for the weak and take care of the sick and never act cruel just for the fuck of it, that’s how you honor your mama. The way you rescued Jewel and stayed by her side and made sure she was looked after and loved, your mama would’ve been so proud, Brass. What your dad did wasn’t your fault, and it ain’t your job to punish him. If the legal system thinks he served his punishment, that’s between him and them. If he really was working with Floyd, he’ll be back in before he gets a chance to come anywhere near us.”

  “Jewel’s probably so pissed,” I mutter. “I’m a fucking disaster. She doesn’t deserve to deal with all this shit.”

  “Jewel’s the perfect woman to deal with all thi
s shit,” Bruiser says.

  “She’s fucking nuts about you. I’ve never seen her look at anybody the way she looks at you, and I’ve been trying to hit that for years,” Lazarus says.

  I laugh because I know Jewel would chew a guy like Lazarus up and spit him out. I laugh because it feels so good hearing what I suspected this entire time from the people I care about more than anybody in the world - Jewel and I were made to be together. Now I just gotta turn this train wreck around and go get her, and when I do, I’m never letting her go again. If she wants it all, my good, my bad, and my dark, I’ll let her in.

  “You think I should let her cool off?” I ask. “She did basically tell me to go fuck myself and called me a pussy.”

  Bruiser laughs and shakes his head. “One hundred percent the perfect woman to deal with all this shit. I caught her just as she was pulling out. I don’t know exactly where she was headed but she said something about needing to go talk to somebody who loved you before she had a chance to.”

  “Maybe Bethy Methy, the stripper from the Hazen Rally last summer?” Rowdy asks.

  “We don’t talk about that anymore,” I say, clenching my fist as he points and laughs at me.

  He winks and slaps me on the back. There aren’t enough horny strippers in the whole state to do for me what my girl Jewel does. Now, I just have to go and get her, and I think I have a pretty good idea where she might be.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jewel:

  “I’m sorry, I know I’m a little bit underdressed,” I say, wrapping my cardigan around my body, trying to cover up the halter top and leopard shorts I wore to work today. I know it’s silly, talking to a tombstone, and I have a strange feeling Brass’ mom would probably love me regardless of what I was wearing, but this cemetery is so quiet and I feel like I need to make small talk.

  Her grave is lovingly decorated with fresh flowers, and there are even little LED candles burning, stuffed animals, and handwritten notes scattered around. Thirty years later, Regina LaRue is still fondly remembered by many. I wonder what the world would look like if she was still alive today?

  I sit down in the grass, letting the sun warm my skin, and an intense feeling of inner peace washes over me.

  “I never did this before, so please don’t think I’m being rude. My words might not come out right, but I’m gonna let my heart do the talking. I want you to know I really love your son, Mrs. LaRue. I know you’re probably watching down over him, but I want you to know how much he’s cared about down here.”

  Maybe he doesn’t believe me, and maybe I’m just talking to a rock, but sitting here makes me feel closer to him, and that’s all I want. I know he wants to be alone. I know he wants to be far away from me right now, but I need him more than the air I breathe, and I don’t know where else to go.

  I grab the photo album out of my purse that’s been floating around in my car since I moved back to the house. Just looking at these pictures of him as a kid make me smile. I see the look of love in her eyes when she poses with him. There’s one of him and her standing on the beach wearing matching Hawaiian shirts and the absolute joy on his face absolutely destroys my heart. I’ve seen that joy. I’ve felt that joy. I’d do anything in the world to get to bask in that joy again.

  “I know he carries a lot of guilt, Regina. He’s like a closed book. I don’t know how to open him up. I don’t know how to make him trust me,” I say. “Please, if you’re listening, Mrs. LaRue, God, whoever… show him my heart is pure and my intentions are good. Show him that I don’t care how heavy this weight is he’s carry. I want to be here for him.”

  I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but they’re good tears, happy tears, unburdened tears. If he won’t listen to me, maybe he’ll listen to her. I’m not a very spiritual person, but in this moment, I feel like she can at the very least hear me.

  The silence is overtaken by a feint rumble in the distance. I know this country road is frequented by motorcycles, but as it grows closer, this one sounds perfectly familiar. I look up at the sky and smile, knowing this was one part miracle and one part Bruiser doing my bidding for me.

  He walks down the narrow path of the cemetery, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. My heart races the second I see him, all tall and sexy in his black leather cut. For all I know he’s just passing through on his way out of town, but at least I get to see him one last time.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. He cocks his head and smiles, and for some reason I get this feeling he’s not planning on going anywhere.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” he says. He sits down on the ground next to me and takes my hand in his.

  “This is probably going to sound strange, but I just wanted to be close to you,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine. “You weren’t listening to me, and Gin told me I just needed to let you cool down, but I just couldn’t. I figured I’d come tattle on you to your mom.”

  He wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head.

  “Sometimes I wonder what she thinks,” he says. “If things would’ve ended up differently than they did, is this how she thought I’d turn out?”

  “I bet she’d say you turned out even better than she expected.”

  “I’m sorry I ran out on you. My dad is getting out of jail, and I’m worried about what’s going to happen. I didn’t want to drag you through that with me.”

  I move closer to him, resting my head on his chest.

  “Back when my father was on trial, I was so scared of losing him, I didn’t testify in court. I had already lost my mom, and I didn’t want to be an orphan. I didn’t want to believe he’d kill her, even though I heard it happen. I pretended like I didn’t know anything. How fucked up is that? I was so selfish, I protected a murderer.”

  “It’s not fucked up.” I can see the pain in his teary eyes, the years of bottled up guilt hiding behind that stoic stare. “You were a little boy. You didn’t have anybody to help you so you did what you thought your mom would want you to do. You protected somebody you loved.”

  “What am I supposed to do now?” he asks. “Am I supposed to keep on protecting him?”

  “What does your heart say?”

  “My heart says it doesn’t matter what I do as long as I get to wake up next to you every day.”

  “We can make that happen,” I say. “But you have to promise me you’re going to start letting me in. No more secrets. There is nothing you can do or say that’s going to make me love you any less. I’m not afraid of anything when I’m with you, Brass. I need you to stop being afraid for me. I need you to stop being afraid of me.”

  “I’ve never had anything like this before,” he says, squeezing me to his chest.

  He grabs the photo album off the ground and starts flipping through the pages, lingering extra long on the ones of him and his mother. I don’t ask questions because everything I need to know I can get by the way his arms squeeze a little tighter around me and the way his heart is pounding through his shirt.

  “Wait a minute,” I say, when he flips to a page closer to the back. There’s a man standing next to him on a fishing dock, and I grab the book and pull it closer to my face. “I know him.”

  “I mean, we kind of look alike. That’s probably where you think you saw him. He is my father, after all.”

  “That’s your father?”

  My skin starts to sweat and my mind starts working a million miles a minute. “No, Brass… I met him. Sometimes Barney used to make me take stuff to the jail.”

  “He did what?”

  “It was easier for me to smuggle stuff in because I’m a woman and they don’t always check every part of you.”

  “He’s a piece of shit,” he growls. “You smuggled shit into the jail for Barney?”

  “I thought I was smuggling shit in for the MC. I just did as I was told. I swear I brought your father notes at least a few times. He sent stuff back for me to take to Barney, too.”

  “Well, Floyd did say he w
as working with him.” He slaps the book shut and shakes his head. “I’m sorry you had to meet him. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

  “What if I told you I think I might still have some of those notes? I kept a bunch of boxes of Barney’s stuff in the attic when he died because I didn’t know if it would ever come in handy one day. Holy shit, Brass. What if there’s evidence in there?”

  He sits there frozen, his hand covering his mouth.

  “You never had the chance to get your day in court, Brass. You’ve spent your whole life feeling like you didn’t do enough to protect your mother. Now you can protect everyone, Brass. You can make sure he stays in jail and never hurts anybody ever again.”

  “What if the notes are nothing? What if they’re just garbage?”

  I take both of his hands in mine, crouching down in front of him. “We don’t have to do anything with them. I’ll respect your decision either way.” Part of me can’t help but wonder if letting go of this secret after all these years isn’t something he’s ready to do. Maybe his big heart that needs to protect everyone still has some inherent need to protect his father.

  “I think I owe it to my mother,” he says after a long pause. He exhales a deep sigh and smiles at me. “And I owe it to all these people who love her. Every time I come here to bring flowers, I can barely find a spot to put them. Look at all this stuff.”

  We both stand over her grave until the sun starts to set and I start to shiver. He takes off his cut and rests it over my shoulders before wrapping his arms around me.

  “Are you coming home with me?” I ask.

  “I am home with you, Jewel.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  * * *

  Brass: