Fuck, that hurt.
Chapter Nineteen
Eachdaythatpasseswith Birdie retreating into the shell she was in when she arrived here, the more my frustration and rage mounts.Until Frankie called, she was slowly coming back to life.
Her demeanor was more relaxed.Her hair was down more often, and she didn’t feel the need to put on makeup as soon as she woke up each morning.
That call extinguished the fire that had occasionally sparked in her.
How the fuck do I fight against her mind?
Anytime she speaks, it’s in that fucking stilted, robotic, Stepford wife bullshit tone again.
The twins are noticing that she’s not smiling anymore.I never come home to a mess in the house.Not a single fucking crumb or speck of dust anywhere.And believe me, I tried to find something just so there was proof of life in this goddamn house.Dinner is always waiting for me and the kids, but rarely for her.She assures me she eats when I’m not around, but from the way she’s lost weight in a fucking week, I’m calling bullshit on that.
Everything she does is to please me and the kids.It’s never been either her or me.We both carried our weight in our past relationship, never asking for more than what the other was giving.When I walk into this house each day and only see three fucking plates on the table, I have to fight with everything in me not to pick one up and throw it against the wall in frustration.Instead, I simply walk into the kitchen, grab another plate from the cabinet, and fill it with the food on the stove.Then I set it at the table with the rest of us and force her to sit down to eat.The first time it happened, she only pushed the food around on her plate.I grabbed her gently by the chin so she’d look at me and told her I’d fucking feed her if she didn’t do it herself.Birdie wanted to argue—fuck, it was right there in her eyes—but she swallowed it down.
What I hate the most about it fucking all is the way she holds on to those goddamn pearls.I thought she did it as some kind of anchor shit, but I noticed that day that she only grabs a hold of them when she forgets she’s supposed to be Frankie’s fucking robot.Birdie doesn’t use them to anchor her to the present.She uses them to anchor her to the fucking person Frankie turned her into.
Hannibal is manning the gate to my property tonight while Munch and Vortex watch the house.Except for the phone call, Frankie hasn’t tried anything since Birdie and the kids have been here, but I’m not taking any chances.If he comes and gets past the clubhouse, then he’ll also have to face the men I have stationed here.
“How have they been?”I ask Munch as I climb the porch steps.
“Quiet.They were all in the living room watching a movie earlier.The kids were getting restless, wanting to go outside.Birdie wasn’t comfortable with that, though.”
I scrub my hands over my face, trying to erase the weariness.
Fuck, I hope Cypher gets me something soon.
“Thanks, brother.Get home to your ol’ lady before she carves out my nuts and serves them to that mean ass dog of yours.”
He chuckles, his long ginger beard moving with his smile.“My angel wouldn’t do something like that.”
My eyes widen incredulously.“Angel?Have you seen your woman throw down, brother?That lady will take on any grown ass man who dares to get in her face.Hell, we gave her the name Scorch for a reason.It’s also why we put her in charge of the sweetbutts.”
“Yeah,” he sighs dreamily.“She’s perfect, huh?”
I clap him on the back with a chuckle.“Perfect for you.Thanks again for sitting with them.Where’s Vortex?”
“She was comfortable enough letting him in.He helped Legend bring his game system downstairs and played it with him for a while.”
“Birdie didn’t want you in?”
Munch shrugs.“Naw.She said she’d be more comfortable if I was out here.”He slides his hands into his jeans pocket and leans against the porch banister.“Can’t really blame her, Prez.Scorch and I were there that night, too.Hell, it took my ol’ lady fucking months not to be pissed at me when she found out it was all for show.Birdie will be ready to deal with us when she’s ready.”
I’m about to say something else when Valkyrie’s car comes flying through the gate and up to the house.She’s dressed in another business suit, so she must have just come back from job hunting.I offered to hire her on at any of our places, but she was quick to turn it down.Her reply: Not only no, but fuck no.Then she followed up with a big smile and fluttering eyelashes.
Valkyrie is scary as hell, and I pity the fool who tries to tie that fucking hellcat down.
“Hey.How is she today?”she asks quietly.
“I just got home, but she was the same this morning.Munch said she’s been quiet all day.She hasn’t let the kids come out.”I sigh.“She’s fucking scared, and it’s showing.”
“Dammit.This is what I was afraid of when you told me he called.”Valkyrie gives me a dark look.“When you find him, I want a piece.”
I shrug.“If there’s anything left of him when I’m done.”
Others would try to protect her, yapping about needing to preserve her delicate sensibilities.If they don’t bother to look beneath her surface to see the darkness playing fucking peek-a-boo, that’s not my problem.People need to understand that women can have monsters that writhe under their skin as much as men can.Women can have a darkness that stalks their minds.They should get the same opportunity to embrace it that we do.Equal opportunities and all that shit.
