No. I really fucking don’t.
“You want to explain what the fuck she’s doing here?”
“Shayna ran into her in town, and Maddy gave her a ride back to the clubhouse. Simple as that.”
“So, is she gone now?”
“No. She’s having a drink with the guys and Shay. You still didn’t answer my question.”
Why did I treat her like that? Because I want her out of my sight. Because I can’t fucking stand being reminded of what I lost. I can’t fucking stand the pity. Her eyes had nothing but love in them every time she used to look at me. Now, they’re just filled with pain because I’m no longer the same man she met at the fair. “Because I told her never to step foot here again.”
“Yeah, well, I offered her a job.”
“You did what?” I snap my head up, narrowing all my self-hatred right on him.
“She’s having a tough time finding a job, and we need the help. We’re fucking drowning in all the fucking bills and shit.” Because Rubble is no longer here to take care of it. “The girl has a finance degree and is a hell of a lot more cut out for the job than I am. Shit. I’m not even sure I passed math back in the day. We need her, Skull, and she needs the cash.”
She needs the cash? Her family has more money than they know what to do with.
“Why does she need the money? She got a degree from some fancy-ass school. She should have no problem finding a job.”
“Because she’s living with her folks and wants to get out from under their handcuffs.”
Maddy’s parents were such assholes. They were arrogant snobs, looking down their noses at everyone who didn’t fit their mold. Even their own daughter didn’t make the cut. And the second she started dating me, they practically disowned her. The only reason they didn’t cut off her tuition was because they thought she’d go back to school and move on from my ass. I wonder if she did. I wonder if she’s dating anyone.
Fuck! The thought has me wanting to pull my gun and load it up.
“Tell her she needs to go find a job elsewhere. I don’t want her here.”
His jaw locks up tight, looking like he’s got somethin’ to say. I’d love to hear it. It’s hard enough getting through my days, and now I’ve been sliced wide open again. If he wants to pour salt into my wound, now’s his fucking chance.
“She needs the job, Skully, and we fucking need her. You know…” He shakes his head. “I’m starting to think it wasn’t your legs you lost that night but your fucking heart. If you want her gone, you’re gonna have to tell her yourself. But before you do that, I suggest you remember that that girl never did anything to hurt you. She’s not the one who shot your damn legs off. She stayed in that hospital room day in and day out, crying her little eyes out for you to get better. She’s a good girl and she cares about you. And she needs this fucking job. But if you want to rip it away from her, you’ll have to do it your goddamn self.”
He turns and storms out, slamming the door shut as he goes. His anger resonates deep in my nerves. Louder than the slam. Fuck! He doesn’t think I know how much of a bastard I am. I know I’m fucked up. I know she didn’t do anything wrong. But how the hell do I get past the fucking pain? Every day I’m haunted by what I lost. Haunted by eyes. Greenish-blue eyes filled with love. Aqua eyes filled with worry and agony. Lifeless brown eyes from my brother who laid dead on the ground because I wasn’t there to have his back. Eyes full of pity. Eyes full of disappointment. And now I get to add angry eyes to the mix.
Ripper’s pissed that I’m not fighting to get myself out of this chair. He’s pissed I won’t move on with my life. That I won’t stop living in the past. But if the world were ripped out from under him, if he lost his fucking woman and his fucking manhood all in one night, what the fuck would he do?
I can’t get my friend back. I can’t give my girl the life she deserves. I can’t protect my men anymore. Or ride my bike. I can’t work on cars and make a living. I can’t do any fucking thing other than sit in this goddamn chair and remember how fuckinggood everything was before that one fucking night. Before it was all ripped away from me and I woke up in hell.
And now he wants me to face what I lost head on day in and day out. How the fuck does he expect me to do that?
6
Madison
“How’s it coming, Maddy Cakes?” Ripper comes walking in, looking over my shoulder at what I’m working on. He scratches the back of his head as he stares at my screen. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at, but most people wouldn’t. It’s a bunch of numbers that don’t make much sense, but they will once I’m done here.
Everything’s coming along really well. After he went over the details with me this morning and showed me all the different business accounts, I started getting everything organized and began setting up the software program. There’s still a lot to input and a heap of receipts to be sorted through, but once the grunt work is done, everything will run more smoothly.
“It’s good. I’m getting you all set up with this program, which will make everyone’s lives easier. It will be easy to account for all the money coming in and out of the different businesses. Then once I get everything set up, I’ll be making sure all the bills arepaid and up to date and I’ll get all the invoices sent. I have the companies split as individual entities for tax purposes”—because surprisingly these men, who I thought didn’t obey the law according to my father, pay their taxes—“but you’ll also be able to see the total financial accounting for the entire club. That way you’ll always know what the club’s net income is.” And what has me thoroughly shocked is how wealthy they are. We’re talking millions. Way more money than what my dad is worth.
“Shit, girl. I’m gonna have to give you a raise. You already did in one day what would’ve taken me an entire year to accomplish. And what’s got me is the fact that there’s a smile on your face.”
“That’s because I love numbers.” And may also be because Skully said I could stay. It gives me hope that what Ripper said may be true. And maybe Skully doesn’t hate me like I thought but is merely trying to push me away. If there’s even a glimmer of truth in that possibility, I can work with that. I’ll remind Skully of the past and what we had. How amazing everything was. But first, I have to figure out a way to see him. He’s been locked up in his room all day, and I’ve been locked up in this office.
“All right, well, it’s closing time. We don’t pay for overtime around here.” He winks. “So, we best be gettin’ to the bar.”
It’s only five o’clock. I feel like I could work for hours on end. I actually find this fun. Plus, I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to listen to my parents rant and rave over meaningless bullshit. I swear they can talk nonstop about the pettiest things. Honestly, I’d rather be working.
