Reeve (The Henchmen MC 11)
I knew better than to think I would be even half this collected after a few hours passed, once the full reality came down on me. But that was a problem for then. When hopefully, Reeve was passed out, and I could sneak into the room where the animals were being kept, and have a good, long cry.
That would be the best place for it.
No one would see me.
And Charlie would come running over, climb up on my chest, and rub his head against me while saying in his very hard to understand cockatoo-speak, "Charlie boy. Good Charlie boy," as he tried to lick the tears.
Nothing better than a sympathetic animal to help you feel better.
And then I would get some sleep as well... and keep handling the situation.
I had no choice.
That much was infinitely clear.
Whoever this woman was, she was enough to have everyone running scared. And because she had seen me with a Henchmen, my life was completely changed.
That wasn't an easy thing to face, but there was no choice but to face it since no matter how conflicted I maybe wanted to be about it, it wouldn't change the reality.
I now lived at an outlaw biker compound.
In the middle of some underground war.
"Is he talking yet?" Sugar asked as Roan came up the stairs from the basement at the end of the hall, both of them clearly unaware of my presence as Roan reached for a rag to wipe the blood off his hands.
My stomach churned, knowing someone was down in that basement who was being hurt. Much like someone had hurt Reeve.
I tried to remind myself that he was likely down there because he had taken part in this whole thing.
But that wasn't helping the belly-swirling thing.
"Hey," a voice said at my other side, making me jump and hold in a shriek. Cy was walking out of his room, head ducked to the side, watching me. "Trying to put on a brave face for him, huh, pumpkin?"
"He looked so worried," I confessed. "Thinking I couldn't handle this."
"Ah, give him credit. He wouldn't be with you if he thought you were some withering flower. This is just a lot all at once. And you guys are new. And, I figure you picked up on this as well, Reeve has some dark shit in his past. He was fighting being with you, was worried sick about ending up hurting you. This was different than the way he was thinking, but it still had the chance of upsetting you. That's the last fucking thing he would want, you know. He tries to come off cold and guarded, but he's got the warmest heart of anyone I know. Though he'd have my balls if he heard me saying that. Come on," he said, putting an arm over my shoulders, pulling me away from the door, "let's get you your stuff so you can settle in for a bit."
I was led out and over into the room where they were keeping my animals. Which was one giant, empty space, save for a few bunk beds that were pushed up against a wall, and a small kitchenette. There were no windows because, well, nowhere in this building had any windows. I guess it was a safety thing.
Gandalf was free since, well, no prison could hold his huge-shelled self. Everyone else, save for the dogs who were chilling on a bottom bunk, all huddled together, were still in their cages. I knew it was driving Charlie, Bing, and Frank crazy. I had never kept the birds in cages except if maybe I was leaving the house. Bing and Charlie had a room all to themselves.
I wanted to let them out. But I needed to inspect the room for safety issues before I could do that. They would be okay for a little while longer.
"What's the matter?" Cy asked, watching me looking around. "Did you forget something for them?"
"I mean... I need everything for them," I said, shaking my head. "But mostly... the birds... they need their stands. There was no way to fit them in the SUV, but... if we are going to be here a while, I really do need them."
"Okay. We'll arrange it. Don't be shy about asking for - or demanding - shit. We are the reason you are in this crappy situation. We want to make it as easy as possible to settle here for a while. Whatever you need, make a list. Someone will get it."
"Um, there's one thing," I said, feeling bad despite knowing he was right; this was, essentially, their fault.
"Name it, honey."
"See. I don't just happen upon stray animals all the time," I told him as I went to one of my suitcases, loaded down with herbs and spices and teas, a mortar and pestle, mixing bowls, everything I might need to help Reeve heal faster. "People always used to drop them off for my grandmother. And even after her passing, they still do it. Late at night. In the spring or summer that wouldn't be an issue. But it is freezing out and..."