“So, are you going to talk to him, Holly?”

I don’t reply, unsure of the answer to her question. Can I go to him, open and willing to accept whatever wrath he delivers my way? And then could I walk away if he delivers a blow I'm not ready for, knowing this is my fault?

“Okay, I want you to do some homework this week,” she says, letting my non-response slide. “I want you to write yourself a letter giving you permission to let go of your guilt.”

“Do I deserve that?” I retort, not feeling very deserving after the shit I’ve put Sy through this last week.

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re a human being, Holly; you make mistakes, and you did what was best for you. Yes, you should have told him, but despite the circumstances, I understand why you didn’t, and I’m willing to bet Sy understands that.” Her words give me a little glimmer of hope. I want to believe this is the case, that Sy’s anger and rage was a reflex of the hard man I know he can be, and that maybe now, after a few days to calm down he realizes why I kept it from him.

“I want to see you in three weeks this time.” She changes the time frame in between appointments and for once, I don’t have the feeling of panic that she just pushed our appointments further apart. “Keep journaling and write that letter,” she reminds me as her final demand. I stand, agreeing to her orders, and when I leave her office, I smile because I feel like, just maybe, it’s all going to be okay. I just hope Sy is willing to let me talk.

***

I drive into the compound around eight o’clock that night. I know I should have called instead, but the thought of him hanging up on me made me drive all the way here to make sure he couldn't do just that. The lights are low, and a few bikes line the courtyard. Shutting off my car, I suck in a deep breath and pray I get through this. Yes, you will. Just walk in there and sort this out. I talk myself into it.

The short walk to the clubhouse feels like a mile, each step bringing me closer to the man I miss so much.

“He’s not here,” a voice stops me as I get closer to the door. I spin and see Jesse resting up against the brick wall, taking in the dark sky.

“He’s not?” I stammer, losing control of my breathing after being frightened.

“No, he’s out,” he tells me, not taking his eyes off the stars.

“How is he?” I bravely ask. I know he’s a guy and a biker at that, but Jesse is Jesse. He wouldn’t be Jesse if he didn’t know everything about his brothers.

“Been better,” he divulges and I feel defeated. “But still better than what he was before you came along. How are you?”

“Same, been better,” I use his words back at him, and he nods but doesn’t respond. “Will he be back tonight?” I need to see him.

“No, he’s out for the night.”

“Okay, thanks, Jesse.” I turn and walk away, conflicted that I’m going home without speaking to him but feeling somewhat relieved I’m getting out of it.

“I’ll tell him you came by,” he calls out, and I almost tell him not to, but then I remember I want him to know that I’m stepping up, and letting him in.

“Thanks, Jesse, I appreciate it.” I give him a soft smile and head back to my car.

“Don’t fuck him over, Holly,” he replies, and I know no response is needed; he’s not looking for a discussion, but giving me a warning. If I didn’t understand this brotherhood code that they live by, I would have been offended. Instead, I smile, knowing Sy and I might just make it through this, together.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sy

Jesse: Holly just showed up looking for you.

I look down at the text Jesse just sent me, and I feel something settle in me. Relief? If we weren’t in the middle of trying to get a young woman out of Redwick, I’d be on the back of my bike riding to her place and knocking her door down. It’s been a fucked up week to say the least. After losing my shit and watching her fall apart, I couldn’t walk away. I watched her from my bike when she followed me out to the forecourt. I thought she was chasing after me, but when I heard Kadence and Nix call out to her as she climbed into her car, I realized I had unleashed my fury on her in the middle of a panic attack. She’d had the same look in her eyes as she struggled to breathe back at the hospital five months ago. I should have known then when I saw her panic she was hiding something deeper. But that knowledge didn’t stop me, didn’t stop the anger I imparted on her while she stood in the hall trying to fight the darkness from taking her. After Katie, I never thought that I’d feel enmity like that again, but right before my eyes, that feeling came back full force.

When she got in the car, I couldn’t ride off. I was already feeling like an ass for letting that all play out in public, in front of our friends. I wasn't going to let her break like that in front of them. When I walked to her car, smashed the window and took her in my arms, I felt the fight leave her. I knew I had fucked up and pushed her too far, so I held her in silence, unsure where to begin or how we would move past it. I knew she would have struggled with her decision to not tell me, but as the hours ticked by and I held her in my arms, that anger I was feeling turned into sadness, which turned into relief, which then ended with grief. It was a cycle, and every emotion pushed me to a new frame of mind.

So I left her in the middle of the night, driving the two hours to visit Keira. A part of me wishes I hadn’t left, hadn’t walked away, but I just couldn’t face her when I had no idea how I was feeling. Anger, grief, relief?

I never thought I’d become a dad again. After Keira’s death, I vowed that I wouldn’t allow myself to open my heart up like that again, to endure that love like no other with the risk of it being taken away. But now I don’t know how I feel. Having had a week to work through the emotions of Holly’s revelation, the thought that I was so close to having that again makes me want to snatch that vow back.

“You wanna get off your fucking phone and watch what you’re doing?” Beau grumbles beside me as we sit and wait for a phone call. We're about to move into our second recovery for this month. Jesse was meant to ride along with Beau tonight, but I agreed, needing to get out of the clubhouse.

“Fuck, Beau. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” I tease him and even I’m shocked for a moment.

“Fuck me, that text was from her?” he guesses, considering my reaction to his moody comment.

“It wasn’t.”

“Bullshit. One minute you’re sulking, the next you’re fucking teasing.”

“Whatever, asshole. It was Jesse.”

“Yeah? What did he want?” he asks, and I pause, not sure what to say; the bastard has me.

“I fucking knew it,” he sighs. “First Nix and now you.”

“Me what?”

“You, you’re fucking pussy whipped, lost in your head over some bitch.”

“Watch it,” I warn, not liking him call Holly a bitch, no matter what she has done.

“See,” he accuses, and he’s right. I’m a fucking goner.

“Whatever,” I shrug, hoping he lets it go. I don't want to talk about anything with him regarding Holly.

“Yeah, whatever,” he murmurs. Only his whatever comes across as disappointment. We sit in silence for a few more minutes both lost in our thoughts. I wonder why she came now? Tonight? The desperate need to know eats away at me. Until the phone vibrates on the dash.

“Yep?” Beau answers softly into the phone. “Okay, be there in five,” he hangs up and starts the truck. “You ready?” he asks, looking concerned.

“By the look on your face, no,” I say as we pull out of the parking lot. I need to prepare myself for what I see tonight; this is my third ride along and each time it gets worse. Seeing these women so beaten and scared fucks with me. I know this is Beau's thing, his passion, and I know what we are doing is the right thing. I just find it hard to stay calm when I witness what happens here.