Storm (Storm MC 1)

“That’s not a fucking answer, Madison. Tell me why.”

Fucked. I was fucked, this situation was fucked, and I wondered if J and I were fucked. Again.

Resentment at what was happening flared in me. I stood and came face to face with him. “Have you ever made a mistake in your life that you felt like you couldn’t come back from?”

“Yes.” That was all he said, but it was enough for me to run with.

“I don’t know if I can come back from what we did to Rob,” I admitted. Finally. It had taken me years to say those words.

He looked confused. “You haven’t had a drink in over two years, and then today you get drunk. Because of Rob?”

I shook my head. “Today wasn’t because of Rob directly, but can’t you see, J? Everything bad that has happened since then has been because we killed him.”

“I killed him. Not you. And I still don’t see what you’re saying.”

“You only killed him because of me. And then, because of that, I started drinking. We broke up. I dated Nix. And the shit we’re in now is because of all that!” I laid it all out for him. Why couldn’t he see it?

“Babe, your thinking is fucked up. I get what you’re saying, but it’s fucked up. Everything in life has a consequence. If we all started analysing shit like you are, we’d all be screwed.”

“Alcohol takes away the shittiness I feel in my soul about it all. I haven’t felt like that for a long time, but Mandy brought it all back to me today. In answer to your question, that’s why,” I threw at him.

“Not fucking good enough, babe. You could have come to me, talked it through - ”

I cut him off. He just didn’t get it; he probably never would. “I don’t want to talk about it, J! Talking doesn’t solve anything; the problems won’t go away just because we talked about it.”

He was pacing now, and running his hands madly through his hair. “I think you should go to bed. This is obviously not the right time for us to discuss this,” he said.

“Yeah, well when we discuss it again, perhaps you can start talking about your shit too!” I yelled, and turned to go to bed.

He reached out and grabbed my wrist, turning me back to him. He was livid again. “What shit would that be?” he fumed.

“Your fucking club shit that you keep to yourself!” I yanked my arm free, and stomped off to bed.

The next morning, I woke up alone in bed. J didn’t come to bed last night. My head was pounding and my heart was bleeding. I didn’t know where our argument had left us.

I showered and got ready for the day. I also wasn’t sure if I still had a job, because I had just left the shop in the middle of the afternoon. The house was so quiet, and I wondered if J had already left. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he had; in fact, I would probably pay good money right about now to not have him in the house.

When I made it out to the kitchen, I found a note on the bench. J had left early, on club business. I felt a reprieve, if only for a short time. But it gave me the space I needed to get my head together, and start sorting through all the crap in there.

I had some toast for breakfast and guzzled about two litres of water. I also popped a few painkillers to try and ease the massive headache I had. Christ, what a mess I had gotten myself in. I resisted the urge to call Serena or Blake; they didn’t need this shit dumped on them. I would deal with this myself.

My day took another dip in the crappy direction when I walked outside to go to work. Someone had slashed all the tyres on J’s Jeep. Fuck! Not what we needed! I called for a taxi and then called a mechanic to come and organise the replacement of all the tyres. J did not need to know about this; I would sort it out before he ever found out it had been done.

A couple of hours later, I was at work, my boss not even aware that I had left early yesterday. She hadn’t come in this morning, so I was able to get the shop in order so that she never even realised anything was wrong. At last, something was going my way. My headache was starting to ease, so that was another positive to my morning. At this point, I needed to count all the positives, otherwise I would drown in the negatives.

My senses went into overdrive when I heard the rumbling of a bike. Shit. J.

I took a peek outside, and sure enough, it was J. He cut the engine, yanked his helmet off, and strode into the shop.

“Do you care to tell me why there are men changing tyres on my Jeep?” he snapped.

I met his eyes, refusing to bow under his anger. “Oh, go to hell, J. I was trying to do you a favour.”

“I appreciate that, but why didn’t you call me?”

“It’s obviously because of me that they were slashed, so I wanted to pay for the damage.”

He took a deep breath, holding it in. Then he blew it out on a frustrated exhale. “That’s a problem for me,” he stated, his jaw clenching.