Page 12 of Chill

“Exactly, Chill. You don’t know what Psych, or anyone, would have acted because they’re not here. You can only work on your deep grief. A motorbike club is closer than most blood brothers. The bond is extremely tight. Next time you say what someone else might have acted, I want you to challenge that line of thought,” Janet said.

I nodded and got up. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Chill, I know you’re having therapy now, but consider AA too. You’re an alcoholic.”

I looked at her sadly. “That’s just it, Doc, I wasn’t. I binged two or three times a week, but I didn’t need the booze. For me, it made everything worse. I drank to punish myself,” I admitted.

“Then stay sober. Because you don’t deserve punishment,” Janet said, and I nodded.

“Thanks, Doc. See you next week.”

I headed out of the office and wasn’t surprised to spot another client in the waiting room. I acknowledged Fanatic from Hellfire MC and kept walking. Neither of us would mention seeing the other there. It wasn’t our way.

Meadow

With a resigned sigh, I began carrying in the bags of groceries. The club had kindly lent me an SUV to collect everything, though I was trying to figure out whether it was worth just shopping online. Considering there were only eleven, they ate a lot. They were big guys and took some filling. Three stood out for me. Inglorious, Chill, and Razor. I’d heard mention that Razor had cancer and was fighting it. That explained his weight loss.

Inglorious was a recovering alcoholic. By all accounts, he’d been drowning in a bottle for the past year. Chill was the mystery. It was common knowledge he’d been drinking loads when Nanci arrived, but it seemed to be the consensus that he’d not been addicted. The whole situation confused me, although I guessed he was suffering from depression and PTSD. Several times I’d seen him jump at loud noises.

Despite my own life turning into a shitstorm, I knew what had happened in Rapid City. I’d been there for it. Naturally, Gerard had deserted us and run for the hills. I’d hidden with the children as explosions and gunfire rocked the surrounding area for hours. It had been terrifying. I’d never forgiven Gerard for running as he had. Of course, he claimed his flight had been delayed, and as soon as he’d been able to get home, he had. However, that was three days after the war ended. Gerard could have made it back sooner.

“Here,” a voice said.

Immediately, I plastered myself to the SUV.

Chill stood nearby, keeping his distance and watching me warily. Yeah, he’d realised I was jumpy. He wore worn jeans and a wifebeater vest with his cut over the top.

“What?” I said stupidly, approving of his clothes. I liked how he dressed, although Chill didn’t need to know that.

“Give me that bag. It’s heavy.” Chill approached slowly and took the groceries from me. “Go and start unpacking. I’ll unload.”

“No, I can do that. That’s what I get paid—”

“Take the help, Meadow,” Chill bit out, and I nodded before rushing away. Chill seemed annoyed, so I wasn’t going to push him. In the kitchen, Hercules was already sniffing around. Before I even started emptying the bags, he was already digging in.

“What’s this?” he demanded.

“That’s ginger.”

“What for?”

“To cook with.” Hercules shot me a glance, then kept rummaging. “And this?”

“Pak choi. It’s used in stir-fry.”

“Where’s the other stuff?” Hercules frowned and pulled out other items.

“What do you mean?” I asked, completely puzzled.

“Cookies, cakes, pastries, pies, tacos,” Hercules reeled off as Chill walked in with three bags.

“Hercules, I bake all those from scratch,” I explained.

“No, you don’t,” he argued.

“She does. Get out, you fuckin’ scavenger,” Chill glowered, and Hercules returned one of his own.

“I’m hungry.” Hercules folded his arms. Chill copied his action, and I thought there was going to be trouble.