She scrubbed a hand over her face. “Jesus, Tatum.” Pointing a finger at me, she said, “You have to get out of Sydney now. Right fucking now!”
She’d been telling me this for months and I’d been ignoring her, needing to see retribution for Chris’s death. What she didn’t grasp was that now it was too late. “I can’t. Storm have people everywhere, Monroe. You don’t escape them. And they have ways of using family to get what they want. I won’t put you in it like that.”
“Fucking put me in it! I don’t care. I just want this to all stop for you.” Moving closer to me, she said, “Your life went to shit when Randall screwed you over and I just want to see you smile again.”
I took her hand. “I’m safe so long as I don’t talk. And I have no plans to do that. I just would have preferred not to get myself on their radar.”
She processed that and then said, “Do you want to stay with me?”
I tried not to smile. “So you can keep me safe?”
Her smile matched mine. “Smartass. I could, you know. You might be Lara Croft reincarnated, but I’ve got skills.”
Letting go of her hand, I said, “I know. I’ve seen you take guys on. You’ve injured many balls in your life.”
“They all deserved it.” She sighed. “I’m sick of men, Tatum. Why can’t we find the good ones? They have to exist somewhere out there.”
“What’s your definition of good, though? Maybe you’re expecting something that just isn’t realistic.” I was glad to change the course of the conversation from Storm to her issues with men. Talking about bikers was the last thing I wanted to be doing. And Monroe and I were so close that I knew she’d changed the subject on purpose.
“At this point, I’d settle for a few things—honesty being at the top of the list.”
“A-fucking-men. What else?”
“God, I just want someone who knows when to take charge and when to back the fuck off and give me some space. I’m sick and tired of men who want to try to control me, or at the other end of the spectrum, men who don’t have any balls to go with their dick. And a guy who picks up after himself would be fucking awesome. Oh, and a piercing or two. Before I die, I need to be fucked with a pierced dick.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Good luck on finding a man who picks up after himself. I’m sure the rest should be manageable. And if push comes to shove, surely you could just sleep with a guy who gets his dick pierced here.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you, I don’t sleep with customers.”
I shrugged. “You could make an exception for that. It’s not like you’d have to see him again.”
“Babe, I’m not you. I actually want a relationship and hate one-night stands.”
“I don’t love one-night stands.”
“True, but you also don’t want a guy to get too close.” She paused for a moment. “Not every guy is Randall.”
I sucked in a breath at the mention of him again. “Can we not say his name again today? It’s been a bad enough day as it is.”
She flicked her long red hair and frowned. “Whose name? I have no idea who you are talking about.”
“Yeah, me either.” I pushed a stray hair out of my eyes. “I need to ask you a favour.”
She smiled. “Anything, you know that.”
“One of my girls needs a place to stay while I help her leave the guy she’s living with. He’s an ass and I’m concerned what he might do once she leaves, so I want to find her a place he would never find her.”
“Of course. And if he does come around, remember, I’ve got skills. I could take him on,” she said with a grin.
I laughed. “You could. Thank you, I owe you one.”
My phone sounded with a text.
Duvall: All sorted.
Me: My demons thank you.
He didn’t reply, so I looked back up at Monroe when she asked, “Who’s that?”
“Duvall. I think he’s done with me.”
“No, he’s not. That man has it bad for you.”
“Not anymore, but that’s a good thing. I don’t want to drag him into my shit.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you ever consider dating him when you two got close?”
Memories of Duvall being there for me after my marriage exploded filled my mind. I allowed myself a moment to dwell in them, because while that was one of the hardest times of my life, he’d made me feel hope. But hope wasn’t always productive. How could it be when the dark had already consumed you? When you couldn’t remember what light looked like anymore.
My shoulders sagged as I answered her honestly. “I thought about being with him. I thought about how different he’d be to what I’d always known in a partner, and I wanted that. But I don’t know the first thing about giving that kind of love back, Monroe. I’d ruin Duvall if I gave myself to him, because dark will always kill light.”
“Or maybe light would mix some new shinier colours,” she said softly.
I loved her for being a dreamer. As much as I’d given up on in life, I still held onto some of my tattered dreams. Monroe was the one person who helped me remember to breathe life into those dreams occasionally.
As I left Monroe’s, a text buzzed through.
Duvall: You’re wrong. I could never run from your demons.
9
Nitro
“The Red” by Chevelle
After Church, I headed over to my sister’s house, not sure if I’d find her there or at the bank where she worked. She lived a block from me, having moved out of my place a few years ago.
I found her sleeping on her couch, a bottle of cheap wine still in her hands. Swiping it out of her grip, I crouched next to her. “Lynny, wake up.” Finding her in this state was becoming a common occurrence. Marilyn had never been a drinker, but lately she’d started, and I hated watching her sink further into a depressed state.
She stirred as I nudged her.
“You took the day off work?” I asked.
Nodding, she sat up slowly. “Yeah.” She grimaced in pain and placed her hand against her forehead. “God, why did you wake me?”