With his help, I sought treatment and since then he’s been a major part of my support system. Without my father, I don’t know that I’d have the strength to battle mental illness. Society thinks people like us wake up, take a pill and that’s it. They think Lithium is a miracle. They don’t know we struggle every day. That taking that pill is a fucking chore. They don’t know we live in an infinite state of darkness or that at night, we thank God for making it through the day after having spent most of it wishing for death.
Nobody knows.
Nobody understands.
But, my father…he knows.
He understands.
“He’s okay,” she says, coming to stand at my side. “He just needs to rest.”
“He doesn’t look okay,” I reply, turning my attention towards her. Her eyes don’t leave my father as she takes the throw blanket from the back of the couch in her hands. I watch as she quietly steps around it and drapes it over my father’s body. Bending her head, she presses her lips to his forehead and slowly straightens up. Bracing one hand on the back of the chair she turns back to me.
“His meds aren’t working, Lacey. They haven’t been for some time,” she whispers.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” I question, trying to hide the hurt in my tone.
“You know why,” she says, dropping her hand from the back of the chair. With one more glance at my father, she turns and makes her way towards me. Tipping her chin in the direction of the kitchen, she takes my hand.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” she suggests.
I let her lead me away from my father and once we enter the kitchen, she releases my hand. We sit across from one another at the table and I drop my head into my hands. Fresh tears sting my eyes and I struggle to keep them from falling. I would take the man who stares at the holes in the wall over the man sitting in that chair any day.
“There are side effects to the new drug,” Reina starts. “If it doesn’t agree with him, he can become physically ill and that’s not something your dad is ready to deal with.”
Tearing my hands away from my face, I lift my head and stare at her.
“He’d rather suffer like that?”
“He’s used to that,” she counters.
As sad as that sounds, it’s true. Like I don’t know any other life, neither does he.
“I don’t like it either,” she continues. “I am trying to convince him to try the new meds, but you know your father…”
“He’s stubborn as shit,” I hiss. Pausing for a beat, I angle my head before speaking. “I know you don’t want him to know I was here but what if I spoke with him?”
“No,” she says adamantly. “I meant it when I said he can’t know I let you see him like that. Lacey, your father isn’t fighting his illness for himself. A small part of him battles for me and Danny and maybe there’s even a piece of him that fights for his club…but, you, you’re the main reason that man wakes up every day. You’re why he gets out of bed. You, you’re his purpose. If he can do anything in this world, he can show his daughter she’s not damaged. She’s not broken. She’s beautiful and resilient. A goddamn warrior like her old man.”
The dam breaks and the tears spill from the corners of my eyes.
“He is a warrior,” I insist.
He always will be.
Reina reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. My gaze meets hers and I see the exhaustion in her eyes. I also see the determination and the love. So much goddamn love.
“I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to get him to try the new medication. Whatever happens, whatever the side effects are, I will get him through it.”
I squeeze her hand.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to my dad.”
“Then we’re even because he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says. Releasing my hand, she straightens her shoulders and draws out a sigh. “So, now why don’t you tell me what brings you by?”
Pulling my lower lip between my teeth, I remember that I came here with every intention of telling my father to lay off my husband. But now, I understand why he’s been running Blackie ragged. My superhero of a father is slipping. His cape is tattered and torn and his days of holding that gavel are numbered. The transition of power is upon us and it couldn’t be happening at a worse time for the little family Blackie and I have spent the last twenty-four hours trying to create.
Shaking my head, I force that fake fucking smile of mine back in place.
“It’s nothing,” I tell her. “I was in the neighborhood.”
Lies.
Sometimes they take the place of dreams.
Chapter Six
Blackie
Consumed with guilt, I pull my bike into the driveway behind Lacey’s car, and kill the engine. I drop the kickstand and remove the helmet from my head. Shaking my hair out of my face, I loop the straps of the helmet through the handlebars but other than that I don’t move. I don’t even look at the house. I just keep my eyes trained on my boots and muster up the courage to walk inside and face my wife.
I try to block out the sound of Pipe’s voice, but it continues to ring in my ears, reminding me how badly I fucked things up. Two hours ago, he showed up to relieve me from my duty and immediately knew I had been drinking. It wasn’t the empty bottle of booze sitting on the counter or the stench of scotch on my breath that gave me away; it was the blank look in my eyes that everyone around me was all too familiar with.
However, the days of downing a bottle of whiskey and going to town on an eight ball of coke were over. All it took was two drinks, and I was toast.
The girl crying in the next room disappeared.
The sins of the club, a distant memory.
My impending future with the Satan’s Knights, forgotten.
But it all came rushing back when Pipe’s fist collided with my jaw. The girl, the mess with Yankovich and Jack’s failing mind, I felt it more than I felt the splintering pain in my face. If I didn’t already hate myself, I sure as fuck did the moment Pipe threw me in the shower. With freezing cold water raining over me, I lifted my head and stared at him. There wasn’t a trace of remorse to be found in his eyes as he glared at me, only disappointment. He didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
Anything either of us could’ve said wasn’t something we hadn’t already heard a thousand times before. He didn’t waste his breath by calling me a drunk or a junkie and I didn’t promise to get clean or even apologize. There was no need. Forgiveness wasn’t something I was entitled to, it was something a man earned. So was respect and clearly, Pipe had lost any respect for me. After I changed my clothes and downed a pot of coffee, I saw myself out of the safe house without a word.
He didn’t try to stop me from leaving.
Nor did he tell me to ride safely.
Pipe didn’t give a flying fuck.
Not no more.
And it was only a matter of time before Lacey didn’t either.
Lifting my head, I peer at my house, noting all the lights are out. I breathe a sigh of relief and dismount before making my way towards the front door. With any luck, Lacey is fast asleep and won’t look at me. I’ll crawl into bed, wrap my arms around her and pretend like I didn’t just fuck myself, our marriage and our fucking future. Tomorrow will come, and I’ll look her in the eyes and lie through my teeth like the fucking addict I am.