Page 67 of Vandal Unbound

Havoc twirls his lighter in between his fingers. “You sure as fuck didn’t listen to me when I told you to rein it in.”

“So, we tried something different,” Knox says. “Reaper replaced them because I told him to. The alcohol was full strength. You’d notice if it wasn’t. But I could at least help you with the pills. We’ve been cutting the dose for the last three weeks.”

“But I’m shaking.” I hold out my hands.

Havoc shrugs. “Is it withdrawal or addiction though?”

“You had no fucking right,” I say, but then I slump back in my seat. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Knox leans forward suddenly and grabs my knee. “We don’t say sorry. The only thing that matters is you come through this. Talking about it is the first step. And while I have a goodear that’s always open to you, I think you should talk to a professional.”

I shake my head at that. “Was thinking more like locking myself away for a week and going cold turkey.”

Knox takes a drag on his cigarette. “You know”—he blows a stream of smoke up into the air—“this is your show. If that’s how you want to do it, we try it. But I’m telling you the club has your back, because no matter what stories you tell yourself, you won’t be fixed in a week. Locking yourself in a room isn’t going to solve the fact you—what did you say?—can’t sleep because of dreams. Can’t sleep because of fear. Can’t sleep because you feel useless to the club. You stop with the pills and the booze, those things will still be there.”

The rattan chair creaks as I lean back in it, flop my head back, and put my forearm over my eyes. The pressure hurts a little, and there’s a whisper of suggestion that I should press harder. Anything other than take the overwhelming noise in my head that says Knox is right.

“What do you suggest?” I ask.

“You know Switch, the medic for New Jersey? He knows someone who specializes in PTSD. I think you get to the bottom of your feelings of what happened, a lot of things get solved.”

I open my eyes and look at them. “But what if I’ve lost my…nerve?”

Knox shakes his head. “It’s just a little buried right now. You’re still the man you were before; you just danced a little closer to death than the rest of us have. And if that helps you see the value of life, then that’s not a bad thing. Club’ll pay for treatment. You got injured on club business, so don’t worry about the cost.”

“I need to sober up,” I admit.

“We could go on a ride,” Havoc suggests. “Leave now in the clothes we’re wearing. Every day, every hour until we’re so tired,we might fall asleep over our bikes. Then we’ll camp, far from anywhere. As long as it takes.”

Knox winces at that, and I see it. “We got plans that need you, brother. A day or two, maybe. But not longer.”

Havoc looks wretched. “Don’t make me choose, Knox.”

My heart already feels like it’s gone through a grinder tonight. “Knox is right. Losing both of us after the attack on the clubhouse is too much,” I say. “I’ll do this at the clubhouse. Hard and fast detox.”

Knox nods. “You’ll take Reaper’s help to do it safely. I’m gonna put two people on the bar twenty-four seven. You’re not getting served. And there’ll be a lock on the medical room by morning. We’ll get you through this as a club, Van. And me and Havoc will walk every step of it with you, side by side.

20

DAISY

Vandal has been gone ten days.

I know because I’ve counted every single one of them, despite constantly trying to remind myself that no promises have been made. But it’s been ten nights without him walking into the bar or my apartment. Ten nights without a single reply.

I texted him. Twice. To see how he’s getting on.

He didn’t reply.

So, it’s been ten nights of me telling myself this was all for the best and trying to remind myself that if he doesn’t come back to me, it’s okay, because I don’t need a fixer-upper man in my life. But how do you give up on a man who has been through what he’s been through, and who leaves you alone to get his head on straight because he thinks you matter enough to try?

How do I give up on a man who took his mess away from me to figure it out so I wouldn’t get hurt by the highs and lows of it?

And why now, after ten freaking days, do I feel like I bailed on some “for better or worse” deal when I barely know the man in question and we aren’t even close to marriage?

I thought he’d message. I thought he’d come back. I don’t even know if that night was a hallucination of good intention but then, in the cold light of day, he decided that Elsie and I are not worth the effort.

I even caved and messaged Havoc to see if he could tell me how Vandal is doing. But all he would say is that he’s giving this his all, but anything else was for Vandal to share.