Page 77 of Rome
“I haven’t had a drink, and I don’t plan on it, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m glad, but that’s not what I meant. AreyouOK?”
“I will be, as long as he treats you right and you’re happy.”
He left then, and I cried myself to sleep once again. I refused to hold the damned hoodie tonight though. I couldn’t do that anymore, not if I was moving on.
Chapter 25
Rome/Caleb
I don’t think I slept for more than an hour last night. I’d thought the mental images I had of Abby with that fucking bartender were bad, but they had nothing on the images running through my head now. I kept picturing her in bed with this new guy, and even worse, I pictured her making a life with him. Snapshots of them laughing together, loving each other, of him playing stepdaddy to my kids, maybe having a kid of their own together. I felt like I was drowning under the weight of all the pain, so I reached out to Kim for an emergency appointment, and she agreed to meet me at her office late Saturday morning.
We talked through my sobriety plan again, but I haven’t even been tempted to drink. The thought of alcohol still reminded me of the night I’d fucked everything up, and that was the biggest deterrent I could possibly have.
“Have you told Abby the truth about how you feel? Have you considered asking her for another chance?”
I shook my head, just like I always do when she asks. “I can’t put that burden on her. She did what she needed to do to heal from the damage I caused. I won’t make her feel guilty for that, and I damned sure don’t want her to come back because she feels sorry for me, or she doesn’t want to hurt me. Abby has a big heart, and I know she still cares about me. I can’t use that against her just to make myself happy again. Besides, now that I realize I’ve bulldozed over her feelings for a good part of our relationship, I need to stop doing that. I spent years putting myself first, so I need to put Abby first from now on. I need to look at things from her perspective and consider her feelings over mine. It’s killing me, but I’m doing that now.”
By the time I left her office to go back to the shop, I was still hurting, but I was able to tread water with the pain. That was better than drowning in it.
I was busy enough at the shop that I didn’t have time to be tormented by images of Abby living life with Grant,and that was the best I could hope for right now.
A few hours later, Lacey knocked on the door to my suite to let me know that Diego had arrived a little early. I walked out to introduce myself.
“Diego Alvarez,” he replied as he shook my hand. He looked a lot like his brother, although Diego seemed a little shorter than Skid, who stood an inch or two under six-foot. Otherwise, they had similar features, both with dark hair and eyes, tanned skin reflecting their Mexican heritage, and a stocky build. We talked for a few minutes, then I introduced him to Dax and Saint. Dax had a client, but Saint had just finished and was sanitizing his workstation, so he had time to sit down with us for a while.
After about twenty minutes, it was clear that Diego’s personality would fit right in. As an added bonus, he was familiar with the MC life because of Skid, so I knew he wouldn’t bat an eye if any issues popped off. We were still dealing with the fallout from Pic’s betrayal, and I had no idea what was gonna happen with that.
King had just returned from Colorado a week ago. He’d spent almost three weeks out there, on the hunch that Pic might be trying to earn a living laying down ink on the side. His tattoo equipment was about the only thing he took besides some clothes, the club’s money, and that damned bitch I’d cheated with. I was fucking thrilled that she was gone, and wouldn’t have minded Pic leaving, if he hadn’t stolen our money on his way out of town.
King had tracked him from Denver to Aspen. He’d been doing freelance shit, hopping from shop to shop until the trail had gone cold in Aspen. I wondered if Lola’s family had tracked him down before King did, but Luca Rossi denied knowing his whereabouts either. It didn’t really matter who found him first, Pic was a dead man either way.
Our club hadn’t officially taken anyone out since the early days before Sinner went legit, although I was pretty fucking sure that King and Cowboy had offed the guy who’d killed Aunt BeBe. Some tweaker punk had robbed the jewelry store she worked at. The cops had identified him through the security video, but he hadn’t been seen since. The cops had a theory that he’d skipped town once he realized who BeBe was connected to, but I’d always found it strange that he’d left all the jewelry behind in his shitty apartment.
You’d think he would have pawned it all to finance his new life on the run, or his habit, since he left a small baggie of meth behind, too. I’d never known a tweaker to forget about his stash. The cops weren’t too concerned about that either. Abby’s dad had stepped down from the investigation as soon as he’d realized the victim was my aunt, but I’d always wondered if he was responsible for the police not looking too hard to find the guy. He knew enough about us to know that we would have wanted revenge ourselves, which would be harder to get if the guy ended up behind bars.
I’d asked King straight out a few days later. We’d been in the backyard at Sinner’s house, watching Ethan toddle around chasing butterflies. King had looked away as he’d said he had no idea what the fuck I was talking about. I didn’t believe it, but I didn’t push the issue, knowing he was trying to protect me. Plausible deniability and all that. The way I figured, if they had killed him, the motherfucker had only gotten what he deserved.
Once Diego and I had discussed money, it didn’t take long for him to agree to start right away.
“I’ll bring in my shit Monday morning and start calling my old clients to let them know I’m here now.”
“Sounds great, man. Glad to have you join the crew.”
“It’ll be nice to be closer to Matteo, too.”
I must have looked confused because he explained, “Matteo is Skid’s real name. You ever wanna piss him off, call him Matty. He fuckin’ hates it.”
“Huh, good to know,” I said with a laugh. We so rarely used our legal names that I’d forgotten what most of my club brothers’ names actually were.
I stayed until closing time, hoping I’d be so fucking exhausted that I’d actually be able to sleep. It didn’t quite work. I fell asleep right away, but I woke up at four o’clock and couldn’t get back to sleep. I called Jag around seven and woke his ass up.
“Are you up for meeting me at the diner for breakfast before we had to Church?”
“Uh, yeah, I can do that,” he responded sleepily. We made plans to meet in an hour. I was there ten minutes early. He waltzed in ten minutes late.
“Did you get lost?” I snarked.
