"What are you doing here? Don't you have a job to get to?" I ask when Tara walks into the garage, dressed casually and holding on to Abel. I reach out and snatch my nephew from her, cooing to him as I cuddle him.
"Uh, actually I'm suspended." She looks down at her feet.
"What?" I turn back to face her; shocked and confused.
"Yeah, the administrator at the hospital hates me. Well she actually hates the club and Gemma." She's clearly faking her indifference.
"Wanna go get lunch?" She nods in agreement and I hand Abel back to her before telling Lowell where I'll be. As we walk toward her car, Filip and Jaxson pull in. Fillip jumps off his bike and for a moment, I think he's going to come over and talk to me. I fight to hide the disappointment when he walks to the garage without even a glance my way. Jaxson makes his way toward us.
"What's going on?" He asks Tara, his face full of concern.
"We're going to lunch. Need someone to talk to. I think she does too." She drops her voice at the last part but I still hear her. I lower myself into the passenger side of her car carefully. Most of the pain is gone but a wrong move can send a wave of burning pain through my body.
"Here, let me take the boy. Ma is here and the other girls are coming in to prep the clubhouse for the lockdown. You both got your shit yet?" He asks, looking though the car window at me.
"We'll go get her stuff and I've got mine in the trunk." She reassures him while she hands Abel and his bag to daddy. Abel wiggles in excitement and starts to blabber. I smile at the two of them.
"Be safe. Prospect's gonna follow you but he'll stay back." He signals Half-Sack over to us.
Tara and I cut lunch short when the older Hale brother sauntered into the diner sneering at us. The hatred he had for the club mixed with his own version of greed is a dangerous combination. I had seen how the two emotions easily walked the same volatile tightrope. Greed and hatred caused tragedy and chaos in my own fragile little world and it made me nauseated to think about everything those two feelings bore.
The ride back to my house is silent. Half-Sack keeps his distance, never losing sight of us. He parks behind my garage, leaning against his bike to wait for us.
"You have to talk to him." Tara says as I pull a few extra blankets out of the closet. "We're going to be locked together in that clubhouse tonight."
"I don't have to and I'm not going to. Right now is not the time to focus on this shit." I grab a bag out of the closet and go to the bathroom for my toiletries. Something is off but I can't quite figure out what. It sends the hair on the back of my neck on edge.
"You're just going to let him go without a fight?" She crosses her arms and leans against the doorway.
"I fucked up Tara and he deserves better. I can't keep going through this. I walked a fine line growing up. I lived in this life, hovering around the outside, always praising it for the truth and family it provided. Now I feel like I stepped through the curtain and saw Oz for the simple old man he was. The lies and betrayal once you're pulled all the way in are not worth it. Look at what we turned into overnight. I became Gemma. Playing games and telling lies like I was some kind of teenager." She listens to my rant with a curious expression.
"Are you afraid he isn't gonna forgive you?" She asks simply. Her eyes recognizing something in me I had tried to hide. "You are. You don't know that Bree. Filip knows you didn't do it out of spite and greed. You just need to sit down and talk to him."
"And tell him what Tara? That he doesn't know half the shit I hid from him? That I'm jealous of Fi, that I knew Clay killed Donna moments after her funeral, that I wanted Jaxson to take you and Abel far away from here? Which one should I start with here?" There's a general lack of tears left to cry. I finish my rant without emotion and step into the bedroom. I notice exactly what is wrong in one glance. "He gave up, why shouldn't I? He came and got his stuff today."
He hadn't officially moved in but with spending his nights here, I had accumulated a mass collection of his clothes and things. Now, it was all gone leaving the room empty and somewhat more depressing. The anger building in me since I lost my sister suddenly erupts. No tears escape but low guttural growling and screams break through my chest. In one sudden movement, I sweep everything from my dresser, sending picture frames, perfume and my jewelry box flying against the wall, shattering loudly. My hands scream in pain when I rip the pictures off the wall, throwing them hard to the floor.
The pain and loss my family has suffered spur my rage. Tara runs to the front of the house to get Kip. I grip the edge of my nightstand, tossing it over as the lamp and clock explode in a loud crash that echoes through the house. With one final ounce of energy, I swing my arm through my stand up mirror and instant pain swells in my hand. Tara and Half-Sack run into the room, stunned at the damage. Half-Sack steps through the broken glass and picks me up, noticing that my bare feet already have some minor cuts. He carries me into the kitchen and sets me down at the table.
I zone out, disappearing into my own head. I don't say a word as Tara makes quick work of picking the glass out of my hand fixing up the new injuries I caused. A few moments later, Jaxson bursts through my door with Piney close behind him. My face is still burning and my breathing is shallow. Tara nods her head toward the damage and both men rush to my room.
Kip sits down in the chair Tara vacates when she goes to the room to talk with the two stunned men alone. It doesn't take long before she returns with my full bag. I refuse to move from the chair. Jaxson grabs my arm to help me out and my senses return, fresh rage pours out of me as I throw wild punches at him. He grabs my wrists, pulling me to his chest and crushing me into his arms. I fight him the entire way.
"Fuck you Jaxson, let me go!" I scream through tears and thrash against him. He leans over and picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder and carrying me out. He shoves me in the backseat of Tara's car.
"Stop it or I will get some handcuffs." Jaxson yells at me as I push and fight against him to get out of the car. I shock even myself when I slap him hard across the face. I half expect him to hit me back but instead he slams the car door.
"Get her to the clubhouse before she does something stupid. . . again!" He growls at Tara before we take off. I drown in angry silence during the ride.
The clubhouse is packed solid. I head straight to the bar, taking a seat behind it. My childish fit has subsided but my anger hasn't. An almost full bottle of Jack beckons to me and I oblige, downing a couple of shots in one swig. Jaxson watches me as I drink. He makes eye contact with Happy and the two have some kind of silent exchange. Happy flops down in the seat across from me at the bar, his hand held out for the bottle. I take another shot, keeping my eyes locked with his. He stares at me, his eyebrow cocked in surprise. I only stop when the burn becomes too much. No one else pays much attention to our exchange but I can tell he's on the verge of making some kind of scene. I brace myself for whatever he plans.
A loud whistle rips through the crowd, effectively saving me from the riot act Happy was about to deliver. Clay steps up on a chair and looks around us. He welcomes the family and explains the situation. Some of the ladies shift uncomfortably, looking at me. I can only imagine the sight, my hair a mess, my make-up smeared, two days' worth of black circles under my eyes and the red burning color in my cheeks.
When the speech is over, Mary turns to speak with Piney, both of their eyes darting to me. Anticipating the lecture and arguments, I make a quick escape down the hall to Jaxson's room, bottle in hand.
Perched on the edge of the bed, I easily finish the bottle, while the thoughts rip through me. I feel raw and antsy; I want to crawl out of my own skin. Each sip burns away another exposed nerve. Slowly the numbness starts to take control and any concern I had fades into a slurred existence. No one interrupts my slip into insanity and I slowly fall into a hard darkness.