“We better come up with something, or we’re all fucked, because at this point, the only other usable ruby we’ve got is this,” he raised his hand, showing off his engagement signet, “and it’s tiny,” he said but pulled Laurent close, as if he’d sensed his husband’s mood souring.
Gray clenched his teeth and stood still, watching his matte black arm in silence. There was nothing left to be said. What he’d thought of as a successful job had actually been a major screw-up, and the only way to make amends was to make up for it as soon as humanly possible.
“I will personally contact Magpie for any other leads.”
“No. No, you won’t,” Beast said grimly, looking up at him with a stern expression. “From now on, I don’t want anyone acting without approval. This shit is too important for crazy bravery. We will plan everything upfront and rely on our brothers not going rogue.”
Knowing the prez’s remark was aimed at him, Gray kept his mouth shut and nodded, trying to keep it together despite all the bruises from verbal punches. Everybody thought he’d fucked up and they would see it as proof of his limited capabilities, even though it had been the intel that had been wrong.
Shadow leaned close to Gray. “I’m sorry.”
The soft voice came so unexpectedly Gray wasn’t sure how to react. He glanced into Shadow’s ruby-like eyes, captivated by this sliver of kindness in a room full of people who held a grudge over his well-meant lies.
“It’s fine,” he said.
The others were too busy arguing to notice the exchange. It took a further thirty minutes of going back and forth over future conduct before they all agreed to get some beers and calm down.
The common room Gray had grown up with was among the most wrecked places within the clubhouse following the fire, so they had created a new space for the same purpose. Closer to the garages and painted red to make it seem that bit more familiar, it wasn’t half as luxurious but did its job.
The sofas were old, scavenged from the shed where they kept outdoor furniture, and the kitchen consisted of only a couple of cupboards, a microwave, and a beat-up stove. At least Knight had hooked up the room to electricity and the heating worked as well.
Gray couldn’t bring himself to sit, so he paced along the row of sofas and armchairs with a bottle in hand. A couple of other people joined them now that internal club matters have been discussed. That meant he’d be left in peace, since no one would openly mention Gray’s failure with hangarounds present. Even Rev chose to relax. With a new pretty thing in his lap, he seemed to have forgotten all about the problems at hand.
The black arm felt so perfectly normal to Gray that he’d forgotten about its presence until Angel, Rev’s recent girlfriend congratulated him on the realistic prosthesis. He just went with it, because no one in their right mind would ask him for details anyway. People saw what they wanted to see, and he didn’t want to upset them.
Nao greeted him with hugs, and handed him a cold beer to replace the empty bottle in his hand—a gesture of kindness that made him feel normal. Still, he was glad when she moved to converse with someone else. He didn’t feel like chatting, yet leaving would have felt like defeat, so Gray paced, forcing smiles and trying to think about nothing at all until enough time passed for him to excuse himself.
His heart was like a lead anchor in the middle of his chest, weighing him down and slowly ripping apart his flesh. If Mike were here, would he have supported Gray or joined the others in quiet condemnation? Would he have been judgmental of Gray’s decision to lock Shadow up like an animal?
Gray needed to keep it together, or else his life would no longer only be a burden to him, but to everyone else.
Despite the grim thoughts, Gray sought the one person who seemed to worship the ground Gray walked on, and for no reason at all at that. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or unnerved that Shadow wasn’t following him around the common room, but maybe Knight had been right about Shadow needing to socialize. And because Knight was a man of action rather than words, he kept pulling Shadow into conversations.
Still dressed in the same dirty clothes, still sweaty and with hair that looked like a bird nest, Shadow chose to crouch on the floor in front of Knight and Elliot rather than sit on a chair. With the short beard and eyes that kept darting Gray’s way, he reminded Gray of an animal needing to keep its master within sight at all times to feel safe.