Chapter Twenty-Six

G RABBING THE ALTERNATOR, I pull out my towel and wipe away the debris from the reconstructed part before setting it in place. Tyler works silently next to me—lately more of an apparition than a roommate, only haunting our townhouse to collect bare necessities. It’s obvious he’s keeping secrets of his own. After spotting his truck driving through our old neighborhood when I dropped Delphine off after her last chemo appointment, I have a good idea about one of his choice haunts. My wrist smarts, and just as I start to tighten it in, a rumble sounds in the distance.

Ears perking up, my pulse follows as a breeze sweeps through my open bay door, cooling my sweat-slicked skin.

There’s been no exchange of numbers or a promise for a call I wouldn’t make. Cecelia left my bedroom that day with nothing more than a warning from me and an opt-in for her invitation, weather permitting, as it does now with a deafening lightning crack.

An unsettling feeling snakes its way in as I wonder in what fucking universe this could possibly work. Especially with my existing bedside manner and refusal to treat this situation differently. The rattling echo off the bay doors a second later has me losing partial grip on my wrench, which noisily clangs against the engine. Cursing, I manage to grip it before it hits the garage floor.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

I gave her some bullshit, but the honest answer is no, and I have no intention of breaking that winning streak. Even so, since the day of our last encounter, I haven’t gone a few hours without thinking of her—and it’s done nothing but grate on me. I chalk it up to sexual frustration. Between that, the infuriating idle of my club, the festering friction with my brother and Sean, not to mention the sick fucks I continually keep tabs on—it’s safe to say I’m close to reaching my limit.

Exasperated, I try to focus again when the wrench slips from my hand, clattering to the garage floor. Retrieving it and determined to dismiss the idea that this state is perpetual, I glance over to see Tyler observing me like a fucking zoo animal from where he works a bay over. Another lengthy bout of thunder filters through the shop as the next icy breeze brings the unmistakable patter of rain.

Bristling under Tyler’s steady attention, I glare over at him. “What?”

“Tell me where you’re at, Dom,” he prompts in a coaxing tone. “Give me that much.”

“You know where I’m at,” I grit out, tightening the first bolt. “I’m caged until the one with the key unlocks the door.” I secure another, my wrist giving me hell. “Any word from Miami?”

“France has birds on watch.”

Rain begins to pour as I glance at an accumulating puddle just outside the concrete lip of the bay. “As much good as that’s going to do.”

“There will come a time—”

“So, I hear,” I cut in dryly. “I’m over it, Tyler. I’m being a good, levelheaded little bird.”

“There will, Dom.”

“Sorry if I don’t believe you or anyone else wearing the same ink right now.”

“I get that things feel off ,” he offers.

“That’s just your roundabout way of saying I’m off .” I zero in on him. “You think I don’t see the way you all look at me? Like I’m some bouncing live wire you’re all afraid to get close to?” I shake my head in disgust. “If I am, it’s because I’m filled to the fucking brim with a need to act—to expose the truth. Something we once had in common and had issues getting others to believe until proven. What’s incredible to me is that, lately, I’ve been put in the position to defend myself to my fucking own.” I shake my head. “You would think at least one of you would understand my struggle. But it seems like everyone around is so locked up in their own fucking lives—their own shit—so afraid I’ll upset the balance when upsetting the balance is the reason we fucking soldiered up in the first place.”

“We are moving,” he reminds me.

“At a snail’s pace,” I scoff. “It’s like everyone forgot they were once angry too. So angry they altered their entire life path to take action, and what are we doing?” I toss my wrench in my toolbox in disgust as the little girl’s screams in the latest video amplify—the noise crashing back into me in a breath-stealing rush.

I’ll never outlive the image of her surrounded by monsters—defenseless, alone, and begging for help that didn’t come. Turning on him, I feel the anger start to simmer just beneath my skin. “This isn’t supposed to be about us . If we give into caring about only what we get out of this, we’re no better than the people we’re targeting.”

“I get that, I do,” he assures.

“Yeah?” I snap my head up. “So, tell me, brother. Where do you go at night? Because it can’t all be about the fucking club.”

He swallows. “It’s not. Not always.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m still mad, Dom. I’ve also laid witness to shit that no human should ever see. The difference between us is that I can temper it a little better. But you continually seem to forget I’ve sacrificed a lot to start this fight with you. Don’t write me off so fucking easily. It’s insulting.”

Sighing, I keep his stare and get a really good look at him for the first time in weeks. His posture is fatigued. The circles under his own eyes are darkening by the day like my own. “I am thankful for you, man, but it’s stagnant water we’re floating in, and it’s...” I groan and run my hands through my sweat-soaked hair in frustration.

“We have to trust that France knows what he’s doing.”

“What if he’s just as lost as we are?” I ask, the thought terrifying. “Don’t you find it pretty disconcerting that he chose now to search for his birth father? Seems like some sort of existential shit to me, and it couldn’t be worse timing.”

“He’s wondering why it’s been so hard to get ahold of you the last few days.”

“Yeah, well, he can keep wondering because he’s been ignoring me for his own selfish shit since he left.”

“So, it’s not this thing with Cecelia?”

I shake my head. “That’s temporary. Everyone knows that, including Sean. So, ignorance is bliss, right? Maybe I’ll fuck around with that mindset for a while.”

Shoulders slumping, I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter...things are changing, and apparently so are we, and nothing about any of this feels right.”

“I believe you, Dom. You don’t have to convince me of anything. And no matter how much shit changes or how much we change, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He’s only a foot away now, his back to the open bay as rain starts to pour behind him.

I nod in reply, a slight bit of tension easing off my shoulders.

“And you’re right,” he sighs. “He’s being selfish with his quest, and the timing is questionable. But considering how long he’s been at this without us, he deserves it. Hell, with what we’re undertaking with no end in sight, maybe we deserve to indulge in a little escape if we can manage to find it.”

My reply dies on my tongue when I spot Cecelia over his shoulder, standing outside the bay in a solid white sundress, lust-glazed blues rolling over my profile. Static instantly lights my veins, along with a sweep of relief as I exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Yeah,” I whisper hoarsely, unable to rip my gaze away, as Tyler follows my focus. “Maybe we should.”

The next roll of thunder has nothing on the roar in my chest as thin cotton clings to my midday mirage, who’s rapidly becoming soaked while charged seconds pass between us. A puff of temperature-invoked smoke billows from her heaving chest as her soaked dress outlines her erect nipples and every curve. I no longer have to wonder about the how because it’s crystal clear she’s here to collect.

She came. For me.