I step closer to him and put my hand on his arm. He’s physically shaking. “Baby, what is going on?” I search his eyes, pleading with him to open up to me.
“Club business.”
I wrap my arms around him, digging my fingers into his back. My heart starts to sink for a moment when he doesn’t return the gesture. It’s brief though, because his strong arms envelope me. He holds me tightly and lets out a sigh. That’s right baby let go of that anger.
“I’m here, Z. I’m healthy, I’m strong, and I’m whole. Don’t hold back with me,” I whisper.
“It’s not you, babe. It’s shit with the club.” He pulls back slightly and gently kisses my lips. “Let’s go back home. I’ll talk if you talk.”
I swallow and nod. “Okay.”
We don’t tell anyone that we are leaving. We just get on his bike and go. My head is spinning, thinking of all the ways this could go. Ivy’s right though, I need to be honest with him. He deserves that. He’s done everything for me, he still is. I may not be entirely sure what is causing his anger, but I’m certain it starts with my father. Everything else is probably just fanning that flame.
When we get home, he orders food, and opens a beer for each of us. He hands me mine and we sit down on the couch. He tosses back the beer, staring out the back door. Maybe it’s liquid courage or maybe it’s avoidance. Either way, I give him the time he needs.
“Babe, I don’t know if telling you anything puts you in danger. I won’t be responsible for something else happening to you,” he starts.
He looks at me, a sadness in his blue eyes that I’ve never seen. Not on him anyway. I know that look though, from myself. It’s what I looked like until I was with him. He’s got a lot of secrets, pain, and anger inside. It’s going to damage him, like it did me.
“Is it my father?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. it’s Brooks,” he whispers.
I tilt my head, reaching out to grab his hand. “What about Brooks?”
He’s got inner turmoil trying to figure out if he should or shouldn’t tell me. It’s hard to watch him so unsure of himself.
“Baby, I can handle it.”
“I know you can, but it’s fucked up,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I think Brooks stole drugs from you father. I believe he is working alone, against the club, and I think he’s trying to take focus off that by having the club question me.”
I’m beyond words. I didn’t expect that. No wonder he’s been so angry. I think back to what Nora said. “Shit, I think you’re right.”
His eyebrows dip down, confusion clear on his face. “Nora and Gloria were both talking about your anger issues. Saying they overheard Enzo and Brooks talking about how the club needs to figure out what to do about it.”
“Mother fucker,” he yells.
“Hold on,” I say, grabbing his arm as he tries to stand up. “This is the anger giving them a reason to question you. I’m assuming you talked to the club about your suspicions?”
“Of course, I have. I’m not like him. I’m not hiding shit,” he growls.
He tells me about his suspicions, about talking to the club, and how Brooks has been acting. It’s shocking to say the least. I can’t imagine Brooks stealing from my father. It’s not like he could just grab a shipment and run off with it. That shit is watched constantly and gone before he would have time to come up with some elaborate plan to take them. But everything Zane says does point the finger at Brooks. I understand why he said there are more questions than answers. I tell him what I’m thinking, and he listens carefully. He does respect everything I say, always.
“We killed Thomas,” he says.
“Shit,” I mumble.
“He gave us some information, but before he could get us more, Brooks shot him. I went after Brooks, that’s why they are questioning my anger. I’ve done it a couple times since you’ve been shot,” he explains.
“I think we need to dig more into who told my father and why he would take their word without question,” I say. I grab his hands in mine and he lifts his eyes to mine. “You need to stop, Z. If I’ve learned anything all these years, it’s that you need to go into every situation calmly with a clear head. The anger eats you alive and destroys who you are. You won’t get your answers if you’re fighting against Brooks. You need to find a way to release that anger that isn’t directed toward him.”
A slow smirk spreads across his face and he grabs my legs pulling me against him. “There is a way to get my frustrations out,” he whispers, kissing my neck. “When are you gonna let me back in, Harper?”
I drop my head on his shoulder and sink my fingers into his hair. “I want to Z, so much. It hurts me to push you away.”
“Tell me why?” He grabs my hair, holding me tightly against him.
“I feel damaged now and you deserve more.” It hurts to say it, but it’s not fair to keep hurting him.