Page 9

9

Bee

"Free, before you start, can I at least go to my room and get changed. I've had these clothes on for a while." I walk by her, knowing full well that she's going to follow right behind me.

"Free, be nice." Jag mutters as he pushes a toothpick from side to side in his mouth. He's leaned up against the wall, looking at the both of us.

Free and Mojag are so perfect for each other, but I still don't understand their dynamic. Most of the time it seems like they hate each other, they argue like mortal enemies, but I've never seen two people more committed to each other. More supportive.

It's just another version of love I've never got the chance to experience.

The type of love I thought I could've had with Cage.

I stumble as I hit the first stair and the thought flashes in my mind. Why can't I get him out of my head. I wish I would've never seen him at that farmer's market.

Ever since that small interaction with him, I've been questioning so much about myself. Like what the other woman he was with has that I didn't. Am I truly just not lovable.

"You okay?" Free softens a little and reaches out for me.

I jerk away before she can touch me. The last thing I need right now is for anyone to pity me. I'm going to be fine. I'm not a victim.

" You're so strong. " Rye's words echo again, and I pull myself up straight before I start making my way up the stairs.

I don't see the rest of the girls, but that's not abnormal, they're probably out on a ride or doing something for the club. There's never been a lag in work for us to do.

When I push open the door to my room, I'm surprised by how disappointed I feel.

It's exactly how I left it. A mess. Bottles and clothes all over the place. My photos are still on the wall. My makeup and jewelry still on the dresser, yet it feels empty. It's like something is different.

It only takes me a moment to realize what it is.

Rye isn't here.

I may have only been staying with him for a short time, but I've grown used to seeing him walking around in those low lounge pants and a plain black t-shirt. The man did absolutely nothing to enhance his looks but by god every day that I was there with him, I found more and more sexy about him. The way he was good with his hands. Strong when he needed but so gentle at other times.

The way he bit his bottom lip when he was concentrating on something.

The way his shirt sleeves hugged his biceps.

Fuck, he's sexy.

"Bee!" Free snaps my name and I shake my head.

Was she talking? Did I miss it already? "Hmm, sorry. What happened?" I ask, turning to look at her.

As my big sister, Free always feels like it's her duty to take care of me. To a point it is, when I was younger I followed behind her like a puppy. But I'm grown now, I make my own decisions. I got myself into this mess.

"Do you understand how worried I've been?" She squints her eyes at me and I sigh.

"You knew where I was? I just saw you the other day."

"Bull. I knew the location, but I've never been to that man's house. I didn't know if he was keeping you there against your will. I didn't know if you were safe. I didn't know shit."

"I told you I wanted to be there, that he was helping me."

She scoffs, "Plenty have men have come into our lives under the guise of helping us out, only for it to all turn to shit." She's breathing fast, her eyes darting around.

This is a trigger for her. It should be one for me, but I know Rye. I know he's nothing like those assholes who pimped us out when we first got to the states.

Mine and Free's introduction to the United States came at great cost. We came here for a better life. A way to survive, only to be tricked and sold as sex workers. It's one of the main reasons we fit in so well with Eve's Fury. All of us come from some sort of trauma at the hands of men.

"He's not like that, Free. I know you don't know him, but I do. I trust him. He's a good man." I nod, trying my best to put my sister at ease.

"If he's such a good man, why didn't he come to find us? I'm sure he knows you're part of this club." Free is going to find something wrong with anything I say. It's just her way.

I release the tension in my hands, I know she's not going to like what I'm about to say. "I... I told him not to. I didn't want to bring my mess to the club. I've done enough damage."

Right away, Free's mood sombers, "Bee," She puts her hands on my shoulders, "Tati," My body tenses even more when she calls me by my birth name. Ever since we were given our road names we barely every use our real names unless it's extra serious. "Your mess will forever be my mess. I don't care if you just set off a nuclear warhead and started another world war, I always want to be by your side. Don't ever feel like you're a burden or that I don't want to help you. I'm your sister. Don't cut me out of your life, I won't survive without you."

Those same emotions I fought to keep shoved down just a few seconds ago with Vexx raged back up, but this time I can't stop the tears.

Free doesn't need me to say anything in return, she just pulls me in her arms and holds me.

I missed her. Not just when I was with Rye, but when I was deep into my alcoholism. She's always been here, but I couldn't see past the bottom of the bottle to reconnect with her.

We stay there holding each other for a minute until I hear a small commotion coming from downstairs. It's just the excuse I need to stop the tears. "Let's go down there before they burn down the house or something." I joke with Free, and this time she laughs.

"Alright...you sure, you straight?" She stops me before I take a step.

"I'm doing good. Probably better than I have in a long time." I smile and make my way out of the room.

" Raas! What wrong with your hands dem! " Riot is fussing, her accent taking on her natural Jamaican dialect.

It's not unusual that she's fussing about something, but I didn't even think that anyone else was in the clubhouse.

I make my way down the long hallway that leads to the larger room in the clubhouse and see everyone else huddled around a large water cooler. The large twenty gallon jug of water is upended and spewing water all over the place.

I'm confused.

None of this was here last week.

The wall that was once lined with booze and beer is now lined with bottles and bottles of...water. The shelf that held all the mixers are now full of water enhancers. Bottles of soda are in the small fridge. On the bar is an actual coffee machine. Not one of the little ones but a legit commercial one.

"What is all this?" I ask and everyone stands looking a little embarrassed.

Sugar comes up to me, her signature sweetness oozing from her pores. "We were trying to get everything set up before you got home. We're running a little behind schedule."

Duchess steps forward. "I told Sugar we should get a coffee machine, and she went a little crazy." She rolls her eyes.

I know that's not true. They're doing this for me.

The love I feel for all of them is overwhelming. I know I'm never going to be able to repay them for this, even if it's just a little thing. They're all changing their lives for me. It's a big thing.

"Of course she did, if we're going to do coffee, we gotta do it right!" I laugh and grab the rag out of Duchess' hand to help clean up.

No one will admit that they're waiting for me to breakdown, but I know they are.

"Relax, guys, I'm not going to rip up the floor boards looking for my Jack Daniel's. I'd guard your closets, though."

When I hear them all gasp, I look up and laugh, which cuts the tension. Everyone joins in. Some of us cleaning the mess on the floor while the others go back to stocking what I'm sure is going to turn out to be a great coffee nook.

Nighttime.

This is the absolute worst.

I've done good all day with my urges. I can't say I haven't thought about going to find a drink somewhere, but I was able to push it out of my mind pretty easily.

Unfortunately, I've spent so much of my pastime drunk and out on the town that the nighttime has become my biggest obstacle.

I'm bored out of my mind.

Everyone is in their own space, either with their significant others or their kids.

Hell, Roth is even down here for a visit with Vexx. I don't expect to see her for a few days. That's usually how it goes when he shows up.

So I'm left on my own. Utterly alone. With nothing to do but count the cracks in the ceiling.

I'm sure I can go into anyone's room and sit with them, but I don't want to intrude on their time and space.

What I need is a hobby. Something that's going to eat at my time until I get to tomorrow.

I'm not an artist, not a writer, not a seamstress... I'm the party girl.

Logically, I know going out to party so soon after I've given up drinking isn't the right thing to do. Too many temptations. I think I've got a handle on my will power, but I'm not sure that I'm that strong yet.

The clock continues to tick, but I swear it feels like the seconds are going so slow.

"Ugh!" I groan and jackknife up in bed before I swing my feet over and plant them on the floor. This is so annoying. Surely, I can find something to do.

I go into the bathroom and take a long shower, washing my hair, shaving my legs. Doing everything I can to eat up the time, still even after all that only an hour has passed.

Before I think too much about what I'm doing, I'm getting dressed and walking downstairs.

Addison is in the kitchen and she sees me. "Hey, you okay? You need something?" She rushes over to me, a small bowl of spaghetti-oh's in her hand. I guess she's about to feed Glenn.

"No, I'm good. I'm just going out for... a ride." I decide in that moment.

"A ride?" She asks, her voice going up a little. She's not trying to question me but I'm sure this seems familiar for her. I've gone out for a ride before only to come back completely bombed out of my mind.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I promise. I'll be back soon." Giving her the most reassuring smile I can I turn and make my way to the door. I'm sure if anyone else sees me they're going to try and get me to stay in the house.

I want to stay sober but I don't want to feel like a prisoner, either.

I'm strong.

I can do this.

I repeat that mantra in my head over and over again as I get on my bike and fly down the road.

Turns out this town isn't as big as I thought it was.

It's not even an hour later when I get all the way to the other side of town.

I'm still fill of restless energy, no where near ready to go to sleep for the night.

Sadly, there's no where else for me to go.

I turn my bike and head back in the direction of the clubhouse. I'm on autopilot not really paying attention to the roads I'm taking. I can get back to the clubhouse with my eyes closed if I needed to.

It's not until I hear people laughing loudly that I realize what I've done.

I'm here.

I'm outside of Rye and Barley.

My nerves skyrocket when I realize my autopilot is still trained to bring me to the bar. I shouldn't be here. I promised everyone that I wouldn't drink anymore. Hell, I promised myself that I wouldn't drink anymore.

I lean forward on my bike and let out a deep groan. How sad is it that I can't be trusted to be on my own. Like I need a chaperone with me at all times just to make sure I don't go drink.

I feel weak.

What kind of grown woman needs someone looking over their shoulder to make sure they do what they need to do?

My head pops up and I look at the sign above the worn wooden door.

What if I don't need to bother my patch sisters with being my chaperone? After all, Rye and Barley has one of the best chaperones I've ever met working right behind the bar.

Rye is here.

Instantly, my mood perks up.

It's only been a few hours since I've seen him but I'm looking forward to seeing him again. I wonder if he's having a good day.

This is what I need in my life.

A good person who isn't going to judge me. I've never stayed in AA for very long but maybe Rye can be my sponser or something like that.

Yeah, this makes sense. He knows what I've been through. Helped me throught he worst of it.

It doesn't even cross my mind that he might be tired of me. He's a good guy. The kind of guy that I'd see in one of those hallmark movies. A good influence.

With a little bit of pep in my step, I park my bike and make my way to the door of the bar.

My eyes go wide and I'm stuck, frozen in the doorway.

Rye's eyes dart to me for a second before they go back to the man in front of him. The same one he's got his gun trained on.

So much for him being a goodie two shoes.