Broken but Breathing (Jinx Tattoos 2)
“Why does he have an animal name, Estelle?” Jole’s face clouded with anger and confusion.
“Reptile, and it’s a nickname, they all have them,” Estelle replied.
“They?” Jole said.
“The Wild Ones, its Snake’s Motorcycle Club.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Jole hissed.
“We’ve both seen me on the verge of insanity. This isn’t it,” Estelle said, determined to remain calm.
“You’ve been hanging out with bikers this entire time?”
“Well, usually just one biker, but yeah, sometimes we hang out at the clubhouse.”
Jole shook her head. “Listen, I know you’re trying to get back out there, but this isn’t the right way to go about things.”
“Why? Because you don’t approve? You’ve never met any of them and yet here you are judging.”
“I don’t need to meet them to know what they’re about. These people make a living off of criminal activities they’re involved in.”
“Really? Rain seems pretty legal to me.”
“Who knows what goes on there? You can’t just throw yourself into any old thing.”
“I didn’t. I was fortunate enough to be paired with Snake at the grief gr
oup. The man’s amazing, patient, kind, and best of all he understands exactly what I’ve been through.”
“Have you asked him how his family died? I bet it had something to do with the life he’s living.”
“That’s enough,” Estelle barked.
Jole flinched.
“I understand that this seems to be out of nowhere. I know I’ve leaned on you more than I should’ve over the years, and you’ve gotten used to taking care of me, but it’s time we both reestablish boundaries and learn our new roles. Snake lost his family before he joined the club. They gave him a place to belong and something to live for. He was the victim of a hate crime. You’re so hell bent on painting him out to be this shady character. Fact is, he’s the one who’s been victimized by those considered upstanding citizens. I’m not asking you to agree with the decisions I’ll make or be comfortable with them. But I do expect you to respect them. Never bad mouth Snake to me. He did what no one else could.”
“And what’s that, Estelle?” Jole asked.
“Made me feel alive again.”
Jole glanced down at her hands.
Checkmate.
“I won’t insult you by pretending to know how you’ve felt all this time. But I won’t stand by and watch you make mistakes that might ruin you without voicing my concerns.”
“And I would expect nothing less. I’m not the same woman I once was. I never will be. I’ve accepted that. I need you to do the same.”
“I’m not trying to—”
“You are. I see it in your eyes every time I do something that would be out of character. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Knowing that I’m being held up against a set of norms which no longer exist for me is exhausting. I need to explore, take risks, and step outside of the box. This is my second chance to get things right. I was happy before, but I can’t try to recreate that old life.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you feel that way,” Jole said.
“I didn’t either. Not until recently. I’ve been putting in a lot of work on my own and with the doc. I’m navigating a brave new world. I don’t want to let you down, but I have to do me.” The words erupted from her soul like a carbonated drink shaken and released from its plastic prison. The fear that had chained and gagged her released her from their manacles. Over the past couple of months, she felt as if she’d been living a double life.
“Am I at least going to meet this, Snake?” Jole asked hopefully.