Renny (The Henchmen MC 6)

I loved her.

And as the cliche went, I lost her.

I had looked back out the slot in the door to see Reeve, of all fucking people, come to her rescue and lead her away as she broke down.

I walked behind the bar, going right to the bottle of whiskey and drinking out of it.

"That ain't gonna help," Laz warned as he walked past. But he left it at that. There was no lecture. The last thing I needed was a lecture of the evils of alcohol from some holier than thou recovered bastard.

It wasn't going to help; but it was going to numb the stabbing feeling in my chest a bit. I knew that at least.

"Hey Renny," Lo's voice called, curious, as she walked up to the bar, head cocked to the side.

"'Sup, Lo?"

"Do you have any idea where Repo keeps the pickling spices?"

It went over my head for a second before her brow slowly raised and I remembered a threat she made before things finally started for me and Mina. She had made a veiled threat about pickling my cock like Rasputin.

"I fucking tried, Lo," I said, tipping up the bottle for another long swig.

"Did you?" she asked, brows drawing together. "Because it looks a hell of a lot like you woke up in a mood this morning and conned me into letting you take Mina out to give her a 'surprise' and obviously led her into some kind of fucked up scenario. That doesn't sound like trying to me. It sounds like you just want to be able to do whatever the fuck you want to do and everyone else is just supposed to deal with that. Well, news-fucking-flash, that isn't how relationships work."

"She wouldn't give me anything, Lo," I said, shaking my head, feeling the booze start to kick in, leading me more toward the dark side than the happy drunk I was hoping for.

"What are you talking about? She gave you everything. I have known that girl since she was nineteen years old. If you think the Mina you first met was cool, Renny, the one who came to me was about as warm as fucking liquid oxygen. It took her years to be able to do something as simple as laugh around most of us. The girl that has been in this clubhouse the last few days is the Mina I always knew she would be if she let her guard down- warm, sweet, fucking happy. That is everything. What more could you have wanted from her?"

"Her past," I admitted, suddenly not understanding why that had been so important to me in the first place.

"Right," she said, eyes angry. "Because heaven fucking forbid Renny doesn't get the answers he wants right when he wants them. It's only been a couple days. You couldn't have given her more time than that?"

She was right.

She was fucking right and I had nothing to defend myself with.

There was no excuse.

"Maybe this is insensitive," Lo said, her tone holding no apology, "but maybe consider some fucking therapy."

With that little death blow, she stormed away toward the basement where I could hear one of the kids in the middle of an epic shit-fit.

"Alright, what we got here?" Cyrus asked, walking behind the bar, tilting his head up at the shelves of liquor on the back bar. "I'm usually more of a whiskey guy myself, but you've had your mouth all over that one. Brothers or not, we're not swapping spit. So... vodka it is," he said, taking the bottle off the shelf and grabbing a glass.

"What are you doing?"

"Day drinking is fine. Drinking over a woman is fine too. But those things can't be done at the same time and alone. So, here's to those who wish us well; the rest can go to fucking hell," he declared, clinking his glass to my bottle, and throwing it back. "Mother fucking shit," he declared when he slammed his glass back on the bar. "Forgot how much vodka burns."

"You realize we're bikers, right?" I asked, shaking my head. "We don't have to do the responsible drinking thing. I can drink alone during the day over a woman."

"Yeah, well, I'm fucking bored," he shrugged. "Besides, that looked brutal. She wasn't even yellin' at me and I think my balls shrank."

I snorted at that, shaking my head, and raising the bottle again. "Yeah," I agreed.

"Mina doesn't strike me as the crazy chick type so I'm assuming you actually fucked up."

"You have no idea."

"She also don't seem like the forgiving sort either."

"Nope," I agreed.

So then we drank. We drank until goddamn every part of me was numb except my fucking brain which just kept rolling over the events of the day over and over until I blessedly passed out on the foot of my bed.

I was pretty sure I only made it there because Cyrus half-carried me.