Craving Resurrection
Page 101

 Nicole Jacquelyn

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I deliberately blanked my mind as I started up my bike and pulled out of the small parking lot. There was no use trying to figure out why she affected me so strongly; it just was, and I didn’t believe that would ever change.
I belonged to her no matter how much she hated me.
***
“Hey, Pop!” Brenna called out across the noisy room, making my head snap up in surprise. “Did I leave Leo’s blanket in your room earlier?”
I shook my head, not even bothering to try and yell over the music and laughter that surrounded me. I was tired, so goddamn tired.
I’d been living in the clubhouse for a fuck of a long time, and the constant buzz of people in and out was finally getting old. Christ, maybe it was just me that was getting old. I’d sold my house back when Brenna had gotten married because I’d hated going home to the quiet, but lately I’d been missing that silence.
It was as if the younger lads saw me as some sort of den mother, and more often than not, they’d been coming to me with bullshite problems that I had no interest in solving. I didn’t care who was fucking who, or which little prick had forgotten to pick up the kegs from behind the bar. I just didn’t give a shit.
It had been over two years since the last time I’d seen Amy, and I think the visit had fucked me up more than I’d realized at the time. Before I’d stopped by her apartment that day, I’d let myself believe in the back of my mind that she’d come back to me at some point. That in some alternate reality, she’d been waiting for me to make the first move—and as long as I hadn’t seen her, I’d been able to perpetuate that lie in my head.
I could no longer do so.
I’d seen Phoenix eight or nine times in the past two years, and I’d not seen Amy even once.
“It was in Slider’s room,” Brenna mumbled into my ear before climbing over the back of the couch I was sitting on. “Whatcha doin’, Pop?”
“Havin’ a beer and watchin’ Casper act like a woman,” I answered, pointing the neck of my bottle toward where the kid was smiling goofily at his girl.
“Be nice, they’re cute.”
“Don’t know about cute—good thing he worships the ground she walks on, though.”
“No shit—Slider would kill him.”
“Slowly,” I agreed.
“Everyone’s settling down lately and having babies,” she said tiredly, resting her head on my shoulder. “You ever wish you had more kids after me?”
“Yer ma couldn’t have any more after ye,” I reminded her.
“That’s not what I asked.”
I was quiet for a moment, thinking back to the day I’d asked Amy to marry me. “Aye, I thought about more children. At one point, I thought I’d have a houseful.”
“You’re still young, you know. You have time.”
“Yer delusional,” I said through a laugh. “That time is long gone.”
“At least an old lady then.”
“Not sure that’ll happen either, lass.” I wrapped my arm around her and kissed the side of her head. “Don’t ye worry about yer old da. I’ve got everythin’ I need right here.”
“Of course you do, I’m awesome. God, I’m tired,” she moaned, relaxing even farther into my chest.
“Where are the babies?”
“Vera stayed at the house with them so Dragon and I could have some adult time, but shit, he’s over there playing pool with the boys and all I want to do is take a nap.” Her voice was muffled against my cut, and a memory hit me of her drooling all over the thing when she was cutting teeth.
“Close yer eyes, lass. I’ll wake ye up if anythin’ excitin’ happens.”
“I knew you were my favorite.”
“I better be.”
She fell asleep within minutes, and Dragon caught my eye from across the room, tilting his head to the side in question. I shook my head, letting him know she was fine where she was and leaned back into the couch. It had been a long time since my girl had fallen asleep curled up against me—I was going to savor it a little longer.
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up to my phone vibrating against my chest. Brenna had scooted down in her sleep and her curly red head was resting on my thigh, one hand tucked under her face and the other clutching Leo’s blanket like she was afraid she’d lose it again. My baby girl was a mum. Sometimes it was hard to believe it.
I pulled my phone from the pocket of my shirt and answered it quickly before the ringer started blaring.
“Yeah?”
There was silence on the end of the line, and I tensed as I waited.
“Patrick?”
“Amy?”
“Phoenix,” she gasped as if she was trying to catch her breath, and I immediately tucked the phone into the space between my neck and my shoulder so I could use both hands to slide Brenna’s head onto the couch. “They think someone beat him, Patrick. Someone hurt him bad.”
“Where are ye?” I barked, knowing that I should temper my voice, but unable to do it with the panic coursing through my veins.
“We’re at Emmanuel in Portland. They called me when they brought him in but—” she sniffled again. “They haven’t let me see him and no one is telling me anything.”
“Ye alone?”
“Ken’s here. Shit. Mat. Mat’s here.”
Ken?