Page 18

Who The Fuck is Gabe?

M eredith

I was so busy, I barely even noticed the lockdown.

After Cyph had given me the laptop, I went to work protecting Grizz and the club.

I hit up all the online hotspots where I knew people chatted about upcoming projects.

I prepared a couple of business proposals, but when they went over well, the hiring managers asked for my portfolio.

That was a problem. I had completed well-known commercial projects, but they weren’t technically mine to share.

Instead, I made up a lie about being new to the area and looking to establish roots, but no one wanted to take the risk.

After three denials, I did the next best thing.

The Old McMillan Place needed a fuckton of work, and Grace couldn’t say no to free labor.

It would keep the renovation costs down, and I needed a portfolio project with a glowing review.

Win, motherfucking, win. God, this place is rubbing off on me.

I just didn’t bother to tell her what I was doing.

It was mammal week on the animal channel, and Dead and I were sitting on the couch.

He was watching the program, and I was drawing in a notebook I’d found lying around.

I knew Grace had plans to host multiple types of functions, so I wanted to give her a blank canvas.

It needed to be generic enough to transform for the client’s specifications, but also maintain beauty and elegance.

Kind of like Grace. I would just leave that part to myself.

I was having a hard time coming up with the basic concept.

The place was old, and the rooms didn’t have connecting walls from what I remembered.

If Grace needed more space than one of the smaller rooms could accommodate, she’d have to sell the ballroom at an upcharge.

I had to make this work so that Grace didn’t lose customers over something stupid, but nothing was coming to me. I sighed.

“What’s up, girlie pop?”

“I can’t get this to work,” I said, ripping the page out of the notebook, crumpling it up, and throwing it onto the floor.

“How much space is between the rooms?”

My head snapped towards him, but he was still watching the program. This seemed to be a common occurrence for us. I’d say something half-assed, not wanting him to be involved, only to find out he’d been discreetly paying attention all along.

“I’m not sure. I put in a request with the county to prepare the blueprints, but they haven’t scheduled the pickup appointment yet.” Drawing again, I didn’t like the direction of my thoughts, so I ripped the page and threw it on the floor.

“Talk to me,” he said, shifting on the couch to face me.

Dead was the only brother I felt comfortable enough with to share the truth.

He had never judged me, but he didn’t let me get away with most of the pissy bullshit I spewed.

Once I didn’t have to pretend to be fine, I could find steady ground.

I still had bad days, but Dead let me be, and he never gave me the impression I was alone, even if we watched the animal channel in silence.

“Grace is worried about the investment from the club. She’s afraid she won’t be able to recoup it quick enough.

It’s just a bunch of bullshit talking. The last time we were there, she was describing all the functions she could host, and I want to give her a backdrop space for that.

I don’t want her to have to turn down a booking because the room is too big or too small. ”

I snapped my fingers at Dead. He had said nothing, but as I had tried to explain it to him, the lightbulb had clicked and suddenly, I could see it in my head.

“Good chat,” I said, as I drew the basic layout.

“What if we knocked out the walls in between?” I quickly drew a track on the top of the page.

“If we installed a track system on the ceiling, Grace could slide the fake walls in place if she needs extra space without a huge upgrade in price. We just have to make sure they’re soundproof or have some sort of sound barrier.

” I finished a very crude drawing of my thoughts, holding the notebook up so Dead could see.

“You may not show it, but you care.”

He was right. I cared, but I’d added it to the long list of things I would never admit. “I’m not jealous, angry, or any of the other asinine things you people like to gossip about,” I said, lowering the notebook to my lap, pretending to fix a few of my messy lines.

“Just because you share DNA doesn’t make you the same.”

“Tell that to everyone else.”

“They’re figuring it out on their own over time, but it’s not a quick process.”

I had spent a lot of time with Dead watching TV, and I felt like I knew him pretty well.

He was older than most of the brothers, but he hadn’t officially retired from club life, like the wise men.

He was turning gray at the temples, but it didn’t deter from his brown eyes or crooked nose that had seen one too many fights.

Dead’s lack of emotion made it easier for me to survive with no expectations, but the man never minced words. I wasn’t sure if it was something in his tone or his demeanor, but he had thrown none of that out for fun. It forced me to pay attention.

“What am I missing?” I asked him.

“Did you know your old man offered to leave the club? Said he’d take you with him once the storm blew over, as long as the club helped protect you. He doesn’t say it, but he’s afraid there’s friction, and he’d rather choose you than the life he’s always known.”

I flopped back against the couch, pretty sure I was dying.

All I felt was pain. It radiated from everywhere, and I reached up to grab my head as I closed my eyes.

Trying to take deep breaths didn’t help, and when I bent at the waist to stick my head between my legs, it made it worse.

Grasping my chest, I didn’t know what to do.

My heart was cracking. I was too young to die.

No sooner did the pain dissipate than my mind began to race.

I flopped back on the couch again as I let the intrinsic thoughts take over.

Dead had to be wrong. As much as I didn’t care for Sabre, they were best friends.

Grizz would never leave him. He’d never leave the club.

It was all he had known since he was fifteen.

“What are you talking about? Grizz patched in before his twentieth birthday.”

“So, he has told you some of his history.” Dead tilted his head back against the couch, placing his feet on the coffee table in front of him. “Grizz won’t tell you, and I thought you had the right to know. What you do with the information is your own business.”

“It’s in his blood. He’d never leave.” Dead had to be blowing smoke up my ass. If Grizz was doing this for me, then I was the problem. I had to go. I’d pack my shit up and head back to my condo for a few nights while I made some plans. “No! I’ll leave,” I said, standing from the couch.

Dead told me to sit my ass back down and pay attention.

“I’m not telling you this to scare you. If you leave him, he’ll crumble, and all the progress you’ve made will be for nothing.

If you don’t forgive yourself, you’ll never move forward.

Trust me on that. It doesn’t matter what happens loudly behind closed doors each night: you’re not presenting a united front. ”

“What skeletons are in your closet?” I asked him, trying to put the focus on something else.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I was going to push him for more details when my phone rang.

When I picked it up, a picture of Stella hugging me from behind filled the screen.

Stella had always been a hugger, and I had always thought it was awkward, but she was a lot like my aunt.

She’d throw her arms around me without even thinking about it, but let me go when I pulled away.

We’d been at the county fair one afternoon when she’d snuck up behind me and had wrapped her arms around my neck.

I’d made a face as she’d kissed my cheek, and Charlie had taken the picture.

It’d been in her contact photo ever since.

I hit the silent button and flipped the phone over, laying it in between Dead and me.

“You going to answer that?” Dead effectively shut down the conversation about his bones.

“No,” I said, continuing to stare at it.

Before I could stop him, Dead grabbed the phone and answered the video call.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number.”

I heard Stella’s voice through the phone, and pain radiated from everywhere again. My heart cracked for the second time that day at the sound.

“Nah, Meredith is avoiding you.” He quickly panned the phone’s camera toward me before turning it back on himself.

“She never learns. Meredith tried to freeze me out in the first grade, but I got the last laugh. I talked her ear off enough that she eventually responded. Hasn’t stopped since, until recently.

It’s okay, I won’t give up.” Stella laughed, and I imagined her curls bouncing around her heart-shaped face.

I’d had too many emotional swings in one day, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Can she hear me?”

Dead nodded.

“Mer, don’t make me beat your ass. I don’t know how, but I’m sure I can figure it out. If I can’t, Charlie has enough rage to lay into you for a bit. You survived Brandon, and if Grizz was anything like him, we wouldn’t have let you go through that again.”

The tears fell faster, and he nodded at her. She continued, “Whatever is going on isn’t you. We know something bad happened, but your stubborn ass isn’t alone. You just have to let us in.”

My emotions shattered, and opening up now would only worsen the situation.

“I’m sorry. This was rude of me. I’m Stella, Meredith’s best friend.” Her voice broke as she tried to laugh, but I wondered if she was crying, too. I wanted to grab my phone, reach through it and hug her.

“Gabe,” Dead introduced himself.

I knew a few of the brother’s first names, but mostly, they kept their past lives private. Their identities were in their road names, so to hear Dead introduce himself as Gabe threw me for a loop. The tears were still streaming down my face, and my nose crinkled, forcing the snot out.

“It was very nice to meet you, Gabe. Please tell Meredith that if she doesn’t start responding in the group chat, we’re coming to knock some sense into her.”

Dead laughed. I didn’t even know he could. “Give her a couple of days, and if she doesn’t answer you, call me.” He gave her his phone number. “There’s some stuff going down, and I better not catch you at the gates, Curly Q, until you have permission.”

Hell would freeze over before “Gabe” claimed my best friend.

“Alright, but she can’t avoid me forever. Love you, Mer.”

I waited until he dropped my phone back onto the couch between us.

“No,” I emphatically said.

“What?” He shrugged, pretending to be innocent.

“You know what.” I wasn’t playing these games, especially with him. He’d been flirting with my best friend, and I didn’t like any of it. I didn’t stop to analyze what my problems were with it, but I maintained my resting bitch face.

“What is she? A teacher? She was sitting at a desk, and there was an alphabet border on the wall.”

“She might have been sitting in her office. Stella’s a director at a daycare, and sometimes she calls on her last break before school lets out. She loves babies.”

“You can stop mean-mugging me.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. “She’s too good for the likes of me. You have nothing to worry about.”

I crossed my arms and legs, before mirroring Dead’s position. The TV droned on about chimpanzees, but neither one of us was watching. I felt emotionally drained, and it wasn’t even four in the afternoon.