Guilty Bastard (Grim Bastards MC #3) (3 page)

M
y tires roll
over the gravel driveway of the cemetery, slowly bringing me to a stop a few feet from a row of headstones. I haven’t been here in a long time, not since the day we put my wife in the ground. In fact, I’ve done my best to stay the fuck away from the place. It’s filled with nothing but reminders of my failures.

Climbing from my bike, I head to Shelia’s grave first. My hand rests upon her cold stone as my eyes close, and I send up a silent prayer for strength. Giving my head a shake, I look down and see a fresh bouquet of pink roses, and a proud smile spreads across my face. Smoke’s taking care of his sister, even if I’m not.

“Miss you, sweetheart. Miss you more every damn day,” I say to her stone, hoping like hell she can hear me. “I dream about you every night, about your smile. Not a day goes by that you aren’t on my mind. You shouldn’t be here. I was supposed to go before any of y’all did. I would give my own life just to hear you laugh one more time.”

I wait a second, hoping for some type of response. I’m not crazy enough to actually expect one, but she could send me a sign. A gust of wind, one of the butterflies she used to chase, any fucking thing. Of course, nothing comes.

Taking in a deep breath, I say, “Sorry for not coming here more often. It’s not something that’s easy for me to do. I feel stupid talking to some stone with your name on it, knowing you’re not really here with me.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out one of her favorite candy bars and lay it on her headstone. The few times I’ve been here, I’ve always brought one. My little girl was never much on flowers, but she loved candy.

Laying my hand on Shelia’s headstone, I give her an order. “I’m gonna go talk to your momma, and what I got to say is between the two of us. So if you can hear me, it’s time you plugged your ears.”

I smile at the image of my little girl sulking, fingers stuck in her ears. It’s something she used to do as a child, any time a curse word slipped from my lips. She was cute as hell then. In my mind, she’s still that little girl, not the broken drug addict she was at the time of her death.

Turning away from Shelia’s grave, I look at the spot Lauren was laid to rest. My eyes lock onto the white roses sitting on the ground. Again, my lips curve into a smile knowing that my son is doing his duty. Lauren and I may not have done much right in our marriage, but we raised one hell of a man.

I kneel down and just stare at her name chiseled in the stone. It’s still hard to believe that she’s gone, hard to believe I’m never going to see her face again. This woman changed my life in more ways than I can count. Some were good, really fucking good. She gave me three children to love, made it possible to hear the word Daddy directed at me. Even with the pain of losing Shelia still cutting deep, and the disappointment of Cherry betraying the club, I wouldn’t trade a day of my life with them.

My fingers run over the letters:
Beloved Mother, Wife, and Friend
. Well, two of those were true. Her children loved her, and her friends still grieve for her. Me, though, I’m not sure I ever really felt love for the woman. I lusted after her when I was a teenager, but never loved her like a husband loves his wife.

She was only fifteen, and I was barely sixteen, when we found out Smoke was on the way. Neither one of us knew what to do. Our parents took the choice from us, forcing us to marry. That marriage was never happy, and it only grew worse as the years passed.

“Fuck, Lauri, we were so young, too damn young to have any idea what marriage meant,” I say with a frustrated shake of my head. “How were we supposed to be happy, when we were just pretending to be grownups?”

I knew shit wasn’t right for a long damn time. Hell, to be honest, things between Lauren and me changed not long after Smoke was born. I was a stupid fucking kid, too worried about having fun to notice my girl wasn’t happy. By the time I discovered she had a man on the side, a man that may have fathered both of my daughters, I didn’t give a fuck. Now, I wish I had cared a little more.

“I’m sorry, Lauren, so damn sorry for not being what you needed me to be,” I whisper, sitting on the ground and placing my back against the headstone. “I should’ve tried harder, tried harder to make us the family you wanted.”

I didn’t fuck around on her; at least, not until the marriage was long over on anything but paper. She had already given up any pretense of hiding her man from me. Hell, she spent more time at his house than she did at ours. How the kids didn’t know, I have no fucking clue. Everyone else sure in the hell did.

Maybe I should have done things differently. If I had been a better husband, had more time for her, then she may have been a better wife. We could’ve had a shot at being content with each other. Still, we never would have been really happy. Now that I have Lisa, I realize that Lauren and I never stood a damn chance of making each other happy. We were lucky we didn’t end up hating each other.

I turn back to her headstone, get down on my knees, and pull the single white rose out of the inside pocket of my cut before laying it down alongside her headstone. “You could’ve had any man that you wanted, but our carelessness got you knocked up and you got stuck with me. I don’t regret it. How could I? Those kids have been the reason behind some of the best times of my life. My one regret is not being the kind of man that you deserved, and I’m sorry about that.”

She was a good woman; she deserved more. Lauren deserved a man who lived for her and her alone. She needed that picket fence all little girls dream of. With me, she got a man who was more concerned with his club than his woman. She also got a man who always lived on the edge, with no picket fence in sight.

“You know I loved you, in my own way. It was hard not to, after all the years we were together. Still, I didn’t love you the way you needed me to. I feel so fucking guilty for that,” I say, pulling in another deep breath.

A lead weight settles in my gut when I realize it’s time. I gotta tell her what I came here to say. Ask her the question a man should never ask his old lady. I just don’t know the words to say.

Shaking off the guilt eating at me, I lay it out for her. “I love Lisa. Fuck, I’ve loved her for years. But I fucking hate that I do. It isn’t right, loving her, when I couldn’t love you the way you needed me to.”

I go silent for a second, picking my next words carefully. “I want to claim her, but I can’t do that until I know you forgive me for fucking up your life. I can’t be happy when I know you were so damn unhappy.”

A laugh works its way up my throat as I realize how stupid this all is. “How the fuck are you gonna forgive me now?”

Knowing it’s not possible, that I will never get the absolution I seek, I stand up and take a step back. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? I know I shouldn’t care. You gave up on me a long time ago, but I feel like I’m betraying you and her at the same time.”

With that, I turn around and start to walk back to my bike, knowing the answers I seek cannot be found here. Just before I leave, as I am walking away, I notice a card sticking out of the flowers sitting on Lauren’s grave. For some reason, I reach down and pull it off. When my eyes lock on to the familiar script dashed upon the card, my world flips on its axis.
We’re still missing you
is scrawled by Lisa’s hand, with my name signed at the bottom.

R
unning a towel through my hair
, I stare at my face in the mirror. Even I can see the pain in my eyes. It’s been two weeks since Round broke my heart. They have been two of the most amazing weeks of my life, but also two of the most heart-wrenching weeks. Round has tried to do everything he could think of to make up for what he said. He’s been home early every night, taken me for a ride on the back of his bike damn near every night, and he’s worshiped my body in ways that he never did before. Still, nothing can erase his words from my mind.

I’m smart enough to know he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It was just the asshole biker in him talking, but it still hurt like hell. It’s the kind of hurt I’m not sure I will ever be able to get over. His words just keep replaying over and over again in my head, and I don’t know what to do to get past the anger and pain I feel.

Tossing the towel in the hamper, I slide my panties up my legs, just as the phone rings. Not worrying about my nudity, I rush to the kitchen and pick my phone up off of the table. I click the button and put it up to my ear, without looking at who is calling.

“Hello,” I say, walking back toward the bedroom to finish getting dressed.

“Hey, baby, I just wanted to call and let you know that I’ll be leaving here soon. Should be home in about fifteen,” Round says, as the sound of the club hits my ears. “Smoke and a few of the boys are coming along.”

I stop in my tracks and turn around to look at the clock on the stove. Fuck, it’s nearly six and I haven’t started dinner yet. I have had so much shit on my mind that I didn’t even think about supper. What the hell am I gonna cook? Rushing to the fridge, I don’t bother to reply. I swing the door open and look inside, wondering what the hell I can make that would be quick. Seeing some hamburger, spaghetti hits my mind.

“Take your time. I haven’t even started cooking anything yet, so it’ll be a while before it’s done,” I reply, walking over to the pantry and pulling out the pasta sauce and noodles.

“Don’t worry about cooking,” he says, then adds, “Order a few pizzas. Don’t forget the breadsticks.”

“Make sure she gets a meat lovers, with extra cheese,” Smoke shouts loud enough for me to hear him.

“Pizza sounds good to me,” I say, putting up the food and heading toward the bedroom. “I just got out of the shower and haven’t even had time to get dressed yet, so it would have taken a few minutes before I was ready to cook.”

“There’s no need in you getting dressed. I like you naked,” Round says with a chuckle. “I’ll get rid of everybody, and you and I can eat pizza in bed.”

Rolling my eyes, a laugh pushes its way past my lips. “Whatever you say, but I doubt you’re gonna be able to talk Smoke out of pizza.”

He lets out a full laugh and says, “See you soon, baby.”

“Ride safe,” I reply, before hitting end and calling to order the pizzas.

With that done, I head straight to the bedroom, grab my bra and put it on, then head to the corner and grab my duffle bag from the floor. Tossing it on the bed, I pull out a bright pink Harley tee and give it a shake. Just like the rest of my clothes, it’s full of wrinkles, one of the many downsides of living out of a duffle bag. No matter how they are folded or put in the bag, they are still wrinkled. Whatever I decide to wear, that’s the way it’s gonna be. No sense in wasting time looking for something else, so I pull the shirt over my head.

Round emptied one of his dresser drawers for me not long after I moved in. It doesn’t hold much, just my bras and panties. The rest of my stuff is still in the bags, while Lauren’s clothes still hang in the closet and fill her drawers. Every time I do laundry, I have to look at her clothes and be reminded that she will always be the only woman to hold his heart.

Frustrated with my thoughts, I pull out a pair of jeans and slip them on, before tossing my duffle bag across the room. Instead of landing on the floor, it hits the wall and knocks a picture to the floor. My heart starts to race as the sound of shattering glass hits my ears. Oh, no! Fuck no!

Running across the room, I pull it off the floor, ignoring the shards of glass cutting my hand. Turning it over, I look at the jagged cut running through the faded picture. Tears fill my eyes, as the realization of what my anger caused hits me full in the chest. I’ve ruined it, ruined Round and Lauren’s wedding picture.

My mind goes into overdrive, trying to figure out how to fix it. I ignore the pain and start digging out the broken glass with my bare fingers. Blood starts to bead up on my skin, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but fixing this before Round discovers what I did.

My hands shake as I finally get the photo loose and pull it from the remnants of the frame. The remaining glass falls away, and I stare at the picture. They were both so young and innocent, not nearly old enough to be married. The smiles on their faces cause my heart to break a little more. Jealousy consumes me along with guilt. Here I am, alive and in her man’s bed, and still I am jealous of her.

Drawing in a deep breath, I force myself to calm down and start cleaning up the mess, not wanting to linger in my thoughts any longer. I’ve just about got it cleaned up, when I hear motorcycles pulling into the driveway. Knowing there is no way I can replace the frame before Round walks in, I shove the broken pieces into the trashcan and hide the photo in my drawer. Hopefully, I will be able to get the photo repaired. Hell, anything’s possible, right?

Just as I shut my drawer, Round walks into the room. His deep brown eyes lock onto my tear-streaked face, and he mumbles, “What the fuck?” before looking around his bedroom. His body goes still as he notices the missing picture.

“What happened to Lauren’s photo?” he growls out in anger, not even bothering to take the time to look at me.

I push back my shoulders, not willing to be intimidated by his anger. “It was an accident. The frame fell off the wall and broke, but I’ll get a new one and hang it back up.”

His eyes cut to mine, fury swirling in their brown depths. “What kind of accident could knock a picture off the wall that has been hanging there since the day we moved in here nearly twenty years ago?”

There’s no way I’m telling him what happened, so I lie. “I bumped into the wall when I was digging clothes out of my duffle bag. The picture just fell.”

“You should’ve been more careful,” he roars, walking over to me. “Lauren loved that picture. She may not have loved me, but she loved that stupid fucking picture.”

I have no idea what to say. Even if I did, he wouldn’t care. He’s too lost to his anger to hear a word I say. Again, he is so lost in his love for her, he doesn’t even notice how much he is hurting me.

“Dad, calm the fuck down,” Smoke says, as he walks into the bedroom with Brew and Boz following close behind him.

Round spins around to them, then looks back at me before shouting, “She broke your mother’s picture. Didn’t you?”

The pain in his voice brings a fresh wave of tears from deep in my soul. I know Round loved her, and he doesn’t love me. Still, I thought he cared for me a little. Right now, I’m beginning to wonder if he cares at all. The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” I say, glaring at him.

“Fuck, Lisa. What the hell happened?” Before Round can reply, Brew walks past him and grabs my hand. “You’re gonna need stitches.”

For the first time, I look at my hand. Blood is dripping to the floor, and the stinging cuts are much deeper than I thought they were. “I’ll be fine. Nothing a band-aid won’t fix.”

“Get her to see Doc,” Boz orders, shaking his head when I start to refuse. “You’re gonna go, and I’m not gonna hear any lip.”

It’s as if the sound of Boz’s voice finally breaks through Round’s anger, and he finally looks down at my hand and says, “Damn it, baby. Let me get you to Doc.”

He reaches out to touch me, but I take a step a back. “Brew can take me.”

“Fuck that,” he says, trying to grab me again.

I sidestep him and walk out of the bedroom, Brew following close behind me. I head straight to the kitchen and grab a dishtowel to wrap around my bleeding hand. After getting it wrapped up, I head to the door, knowing my time with Round has come to an end. No one should willingly put up with this much bullshit. Now, I just have to figure out how to get the hell away from him, without him knowing I’m leaving. If he finds out first, he’ll talk me out of it. I’ll think of something. I always have, and I always will.

Just before I walk out the door, Round’s voice reaches my ears. “I fucked up again.”