“He always did things over the top. Christmas especially,” she continues, diverting her eyes back to mine. “He would dress up every year and whether my parents were together or not, he was there every Christmas, sneaking out the door in that ridiculous costume after having dropped the presents under the tree. I think I was thirteen when he finally came clean.”
“You got a lot of good memories, baby,” I tell her.
She nods her head in agreement, but something is off. Like I’m in tune with Jack’s maker, I’m just as familiar with Lacey’s and right now that vile bitch is flooding my girls head with doubt.
“I went to see him today,” she reveals. “My dad, I went by his house. I was ticked that he interrupted our plans and I was going to tell him to lay off you.”
“Lace—”
“I didn’t get the chance,” she interrupts. “Reina answered the door and told me to leave.” She pauses to shake her head and I watch as her eyes fill with tears. “I’ve never seen her like that,” she whispers. “So emotionally drained.”
Reina isn’t one to get bent out of shape about anything. That woman keeps her emotions in check at all times. If she breaks, no one knows.
“I forced my way inside and that’s when I saw him,” she continues, and the tears fall down her pretty face. “He looked so frail, so broken and battered. The only other time I remember seeing him like that was the day Junior died. The Lithium isn’t working for him anymore, Blackie,” she cries.
My body goes rigid as I process her words.
“Reina says the doctor wants to try another medication, but he’s refusing because there are physical side effects and he’s not ready to deal with that.”
Stuck on the news that Jack’s medication is no longer working, the rest of Lacey’s words fall on deaf ears as I replay the last few weeks over in my mind. Him being off Lithium explains a lot—like the fucking dead paramedic and the one gagged in the safe house, the erratic behavior and the reckless thoughts. It also means Pipe is right and I’m a whole lot closer to taking Jack’s place than I’d like to be.
“Blackie?”
Snapping out of it, I turn to her.
I might be losing my place as Jack’s right but she’s losing the first man she’s ever loved. She’s losing the man she looks up to, to the same illness she suffers from and I don’t know how to fix that. I don’t know how to make that right. It’s another broken promise. Another failure.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, bringing my hands to her face.
I’m sorry for being so fucking consumed with my own shit, that I missed the signs. I’m sorry I was too busy getting drunk to be here for you when you needed me. I’m fucking sorry for everything but most of all I’m sorry our life together is doomed.
“Will you talk to him?”
“Yeah, baby, I’ll talk to him,” I assure her.
“You can’t tell him I saw him like that. Reina will be upset with me and he’ll never forgive her for letting me in the house while he was in that state. Just tell him my therapist let it slip.”
“Okay,” I agree, pacifying her. “Whatever you want me to do.”
More promises.
Straddling my thighs, she winds her arms around my neck and brushes the tip of her nose against mine.
“I want you to hold me,” she whispers. “I want you to love me and more than that, I want you to promise me if I ever get like that, you’ll make me get treatment. That you’ll never let our kids see me the way I saw my dad today.”
“Lacey—”
“Promise me, Blackie and I swear, right here, right now, that I’ll do the same. I’ll never let our son or daughter see you at your weakest.”
Swallowing, I lift my hands to her cheeks.
“I promise,” I rasp.
Promises.
They’re fucking worse than lies.
Chapter Seven
Blackie
The next morning, I was out of the house before the sun came up. I scribbled a note to Lacey, telling her I’d be back in a few hours and took my pipes to the community center. There, I sat in a circle, surrounded by people as broken as me and confessed my truth.
My name is Blackie and I’m an alcoholic and a drug addict.
They didn’t judge me as I shamefully admitted to giving into temptation. Instead, they rallied around me and prayed for me to find the courage we all so desperately need to win our battle against addiction. I was by no means fixed by the time I left, but I wasn’t consumed by my cravings either. I don’t know what it is about these meetings that make me feel stronger. Maybe it’s knowing there are people like me, some even worse. If they can find the strength to refrain from relapsing, then maybe I can too. If not, I’ll die trying.
Especially after last night.
Once I got Lacey to fall asleep, I laid awake most of the night thinking. She needed me now more than ever. As did Jack. It was time for me to step up and be the man he groomed me to be. The man who not only led our band of brothers but the man he trusted to take care of his daughter. Jack Parrish didn’t give me his daughter’s hand without expecting anything in return. He gave me his blessing knowing I would love her through the dark just like Reina loves him. If I reassured him of that, maybe he’d give the medication a shot. If not, at least I’ll be able to say I tried, that I didn’t intentionally break my promise.
With that in mind, I decided to visit Jack. We had a lot to discuss, mainly Wolf and the situation with the paramedic. Once we figured out what our next move was, I’d mention his medication. He’d undoubtedly try to brush off my concern by telling me he had everything under control. The man is as stubborn as the day is long and has a real hard time admitting defeat. We’d likely fight but once he realized I came to him as a son-in-law, not his friend or his brother, he’d listen to me. Or so I hoped. As I reached my bike, I put in a call to him to set up a time and place to meet. He answered right away and sounded normal—well, as normal as could be for Jack.
He didn’t mention the paramedic, and that made me wonder if he remembered ordering me to the safehouse yesterday. Before I could suggest meeting, he told me he was headed to the garage to meet with Needles.
“What are you meeting with Needles for?” I asked as I fitted my helmet to my head.
“Time to black this shit from my shoulder,” Jack growled.
After Cain died, Jack had his name inked to his shoulder in tribute to the man who handed him his legacy. Then, Cain was a fucking hero in Jack’s eyes. The man who believed in him despite his illness. Now, with the truth laid bare, Cain was no hero. He was the ruination of the Satan’s Knights. A pussy who took his own life and left all his demons for Jack to battle.
“I’ll swing by,” I offered.
“No,” he replied. “This is something I need to do alone.”
“Jack—”
“It’s not up for debate,” he said and before I could get another word in, he hung up on me.
Sighing, I pocketed the phone and revved my engine. Peeling away from the community center, I made my way home to Lacey. Now, I’ve barely got one foot in the door and she’s ushering me out.