Too consumed with my own thoughts I didn’t see it coming but I sure as hell fucking felt it when Blackie’s fist collided with my jaw, making it my turn to stumble backward.
“Fuck you Bulldog,” he barked. “You ever put your fucking hands on me again and I will cut you with your own fucking knife. President or no goddamn president, brother or not, friend or motherfucking foe. You read me?” He questioned, eyes cold as they pierced me. “Now, I don’t know where your fucking girl is but if I had to guess she ran as far as she could from here.”
I worked my jaw, the blinding pain a reminder of a line I crossed with my vice president. Blackie blew out a breath, staring at me for a moment before shaking his head.
“She stormed the fuck out of here after she watched you get your dick sucked,” he sneered, closing the little space between us. “Don’t know much, but it’s plain to see you’re twisting for a taste of her,” he said, piercing me with a steady glare. “And with all you got on your plate, don’t think you can handle a piece like that on top of everything else.”
“Not your business, Blackie,” I hissed, watching as he leaned over the bar and snatched a bottle of whiskey. He took a swig, flinching a little as the burning liquid worked its way down his throat.
“I don’t recall asking your opinion,” I added.
He looked over his shoulder at me and remained silent for a moment before passing the whiskey my way. I reached for the bottle, took a gulp to numb the pain in my face.
“You got me running around, looking for a way to get close to Jimmy Gold, so you can have your revenge. You don’t give a shit, by doing so you’re setting this club up for heat we don’t fucking need,” he said roughly. “Now, I’m the man that stands beside you, has your back before anyone else and my job is to warn you when you’re in over your head,” he shook his head as he sighed. “That girl don’t have what it takes to handle you, man,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper. He seized back the bottle and took another healthy swig, shaking off the burn like a champ. “I’m telling you because I was one of the men that stood beside you when you went down that dark fucking path. You get in with the likes of a woman like that, you’re setting yourself up for all sorts of drama. You’re paving the way to that road again. Don’t want that for you. Not now. Not ever.”
“Appreciate the concern but it’s not like that,” I bit back. “She’s nobody.”
“Oh she’s somebody,” he confirmed, as he peered at me hugging his bottle. “And we’re all fucked once you realize that.”
There was no sense arguing with Blackie, no point in telling him that Reina was just some broad who served me coffee. I was the fucking president of these men, this was my club, my territory and they answered to me.
“You think I don’t know what you say behind my back?” He asked, his eyes roaming around the clubhouse. “What you all truly think about me? You pity the sucker I am for grieving over a woman who you all think doesn’t deserve my grief. You judge me because I fell for a woman, got fucked over by her and then lost myself when I lost her. She wasn’t always a junkie and the only reason she ever became one was because of me and the life I exposed her too. She looked as pure and as innocent as the doe-eyed woman that came here to deliver you a goddamn pie.”
“I don’t pity you any more than you pity me,” I insisted. I knew Blackie’s concern came from a good place, and he was right, he had seen me through a lot of dark days. The man had my back when my boy died. He stood up and defended me when my illness came to light. He made sure my daughter was cared for when I had to do a bid for a weapons charge. Blackie was closer to me than my real brother.
“You’re wrong. None of us judge what you feel. You’re entitled, and like you’re concerned for me, every one of us here is concerned that you love that bottle as much as your woman loved the needle.” He reared his hand back, fire in his eyes at the mention of his wife. I twisted my cheek, offered it up to him. “Go ahead, if it makes you feel something, anything other than the shit you feel every day.”
I like to think I had returned the favor; that I was there for him when his wife died. But like I depended on my meds he depended on his liquor.
“That woman you saw tonight is nobody, you hear me? But you’re right, she isn’t made for this life, not meant to be part of this club.”
“Then she’s not meant for you because your life is this club,” Blackie interjected.
I stared at him for a moment, allowing his words to stir before I tipped my chin toward him.
“I think we’re about done here,” I stated, sucking in a breath.
“Then I guess we are,” he agreed, bringing his hand to his forehead in mock salute of me.
“Go easy on that shit,” I said, before turning around and stalking through my club, straight out the door.
Defiance.
It was the one thing in life I excelled at.