Page 13 of Rome
It had really irritated me at first – I’m not big on secrets within a relationship. I’d felt like Caleb should trust me with whatever was happening and had wondered if the fact that my dad was in law enforcement made a difference. I’d worried that Caleb, or at least the MC, felt like my loyalties may be divided, and I’d been more than a little hurt. Caleb, and then King, had explained that it was just as much for my benefit as for the club. Basically, what I didn’t know, couldn’t hurt me. I couldn’t be implicated in anything because I had no knowledge of the inner workings of the club.
I knew that most of their activities were legal, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that they all were above board. I had a strong hunch that the MMA gym, and the fights they hosted, weren’t completely legit. I also had a feeling, based on some things that Lola had said about her family, that the Rossi’s were involved in those fights as well. Caleb had promised me that the club didn’t run guns, drugs, or women, and I believed him. The Guardians were rough around the edges, and played by their own rules, but they weren’t hardened criminals. The fact that my dad – a homicide detective with almost thirty years on the force – approved of Caleb and his family was proof of that.
Ethan came charging back down the hall at that moment and gave Pop a hug goodbye before thanking him again for the pizza. As Pop was leaving, he promised to have Ethan over again soon, which thrilled my son to no end.
Ethan was disappointed when he realized that his daddy wasn’t home, but I just told him that he’d had to work later than anticipated. We ended up playing with one of his LEGO sets. His imagination always amazed me when he constructed elaborate buildings with those things.
I could tell he was worn out from his day at Pop’s house, because he didn’t grumble much at all when it was time for him to shower and go to bed. I read him a story, and his eyes were drooping before I’d even finished. Everly kicked a time or two, which I took to mean that she liked the story, too.
I had just sat down to try to read a few more chapters on my Kindle when my phone rang. It was on the charger in the kitchen, and by the time I got up from the couch and waddled in there, it had stopped ringing. I picked it up and saw that my sister Amelia had called.
Amelia Rose – whose name we could shorten to Lia, but never to Amy unless we wanted to hear her throw a fit worthy of a toddler – was only thirteen months younger than me. She had been a surprise for my parents, who hadn’t intended to have kids quite so close together in age. After that, our mother had decided that two kids were enough.
I didn’t bother waiting for her voicemail to pop in, I just clicked on her name to call her back.
“Sorry about that,” I said as soon as she answered. “I was in the living room, my phone was in the kitchen, and well…I couldn’t move fast enough to answer it,” I finished ruefully.
“I’m sorry to make you go to all that trouble,” she snickered, and I mentally flipped her off.
“What’s up, smartass?”
She stopped snickering long enough to ask, “Did you get the gift for Taylor’s baby shower yet?”
“Yes, it was delivered yesterday. It’s so cute. I think she’ll love it.”
“OK, great. I’ll give you the money for my half when I see you next weekend. I was afraid it wouldn’t get here in time, and you know Aunt Charlotte would never let us hear the end of it if that happened.”
I snorted because she wasn’t wrong. Our cousin Taylor was a sweetheart, but her mother – our mom’s older sister – was a little overbearing, to put it politely.
“Hey, before I forget, can you ask Rome the name of that Greek restaurant he was telling me about? Laura and I are going out for dinner Monday and thought we might try it.”
She and her best friend loved to try out new restaurants and made it a point to try a different place each time they went out. “He’s not home right now, and probably won’t be back until late. I can check with him in the morning though.”
“That’s fine. Is he at the clubhouse tonight?”
“No, at least not yet. One of the guys called from Guardian Ink, and apparently Picasso fucked something up. I have no idea what happened, but Caleb was pissed, and had to go try to straighten it out. He said he’d probably have to meet with his dad and the other club officers about it tonight.”
“Shit, that doesn’t sound good. I don’t understand why they don’t just fire that guy. Rome’s been covering for his ass for a while now.”
“Yeah, it’s been bad, and I’m worried how stressful it’s been on Caleb, especially the last few months.”
“Abs, he’s not drinking, is he?” I could hear the concern in my sister’s voice and tried not to bristle at the question. After all, Ihadbeen worried about that very thing, barely an hour ago.
“He says he hasn’t had a drink for almost two months now, and I believe him. I just worry that he’ll have a beer, or a shot of whiskey or whatever, to deal with the stress, and then, well…you know what happens then.”
“He doesn’t stop, I know.” Amelia sighed, and then hesitated before continuing. “Have you talked to him again about getting some help, maybe a twelve-step program or something?”
“We’ve talked about it a few times, but he doesn’t believe he has a problem. He says he’s not an alcoholic since he’s not addicted to it. He says he doesn’thaveto drink, so he just won’t. I wish I could believe it’s that simple.”
“Binge drinkingisa form of alcohol abuse. A person doesn’t have to be an addict to have a problem, Abby,” she said quietly.
“I know that, but Caleb doesn’t see it that way,” I said, and I could hear the defeat in my tone.
“How can he not see that he has a problem, when he gets blind drunk every damn time he drinks?” Amelia’s voice rose, and I knew she was getting upset. She thought of Caleb as a big brother, and she worried about him, not to mention Ethan and me. “I mean, does he think it’s normal for a four-year-old to find his daddy passed out on the bathroom floor?” I teared up at the reminder of that incident last year. Luckily, Ethan was too young to realize what had happened, and had thought it was funny that his daddy was “sleeping” on the floor.
“Does he think it’s normal to get black-out drunk two or three times a month? Does he think it’s normal that he has to sleep it off at the clubhouse, or his friends have to bring his drunk ass home, because he never stops after just one or two beers? Does he think any of that is normal, Abby?” She ended her diatribe with a sniffle, and I swiped away a tear that rolled down my cheek.
“I know, Lia. And no, it’s not normal. But Caleb just doesn’t see it. He never drives drunk, he doesn’t get violent or angry when he drinks, he doesn’t drink alone, he doesn’t drink every night. Hell, he doesn’t even drinkmostnights. Since he doesn’t exhibit any of those red flags, he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. He sees it as letting off steam, or just normal partying with the club. He doesn’t…” My voice broke, and I took a deep breath before continuing. “He doesn’t see that he could fuck up his liver. He doesn’t see that he’s setting a terrible example for Ethan. He doesn’t see that his lack of self-control worries the hell out of me.”
