“I’m gonna go check on the kids.” He steps back and my heart hurts.
“Don’t leave. I’m sorry,” I try again. “I need you, Nix.”
“Not tonight, Kadence.” He picks up his shirt and throws it in the basket, leaving me alone on the bed.
“Fuck!” I curse and sit up to replace my shirt. I should go after him, but knowing the type of man he is, it wouldn’t be wise. I have to give him space and sort my own shit out. As much as my fears and insecurities are something I need to work through, I need him more. But to have him, I would have to let go and trust. Trust that Nix would have me.
I don’t know why it’s so hard.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nix
“Where the fuck is he then?” I ask the table of my brothers a few days later at one of our weekly club meets.
“He had a pick up, but Tiny says he’s yet to show,” Brooks explains.
Beau, like all the boys, is required to show up on time, but for some reason, we can’t get a hold of him. Something’s up. Beau has never missed a club meet.
“Well, someone better fuckin’ find him.” I try to let his fuck up slide. It’s not like Beau fucks up regularly, but his not being here puts me on edge. If I was being honest, I know what’s really putting me on edge. It’s not because Beau is late. It’s because of Kadence. I don’t know what is happening between us, but it’s fucking with my head. It’s like every time I touch her and she flinches, I suffer a blow to my self-esteem.
“I’m worried about him,” Sy speaks up. “He’s getting attached.”
“He’s fuckin’ Beau. He doesn’t get attached,” I counter.
“You didn’t see him with Mackenzie. I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“You think this new gig is getting to him?” The club has taken on a big role in helping Tiny get women out of abusive homes, especially Beau. I know that shit can be tough. I’ve been on a few runs, but Beau is fucking solid. Isn’t he? I try to think of anything that I might have missed. Could his past be coming back to fuck with him?
“He’s holding onto something that might be too close to home. I think the business with his sister fucked him up enough. He’s reliving it over and over and he’s gonna fucking snap. I can see it,” Brooks says, giving his opinion.
“He’s late for one meeting. He probably has a perfectly good reason. Let’s not fuckin’ lose our heads,” I try to reason this time. Beau might be attached to this, but he would never jeopardize the club. He just wouldn’t do it.
“Hunter, head out to the meet point. Keep Tiny updated.” The rookie stands and nods, leaving without a word.
“Let’s start. Got fucking shit to do. So how’s Liquid? You get the staff all sorted?” I turn to Jesse. Dealing with his staffing issues is going to fucking kill me.
“Got a new girl.” He nods.
“You gonna fuck this one?” Sy asks, trying to get a reaction.
“Fuck off.” He smiles, but I ignore it. He’s probably had her and her fucking best friend already. “Just because you three are fucking whipped.” He nods to the remaining three of us left at the table.
“We’re not fuckin’ whipped,” I snap. I don’t hold back my attitude, or the fact he is pissing me off.
“Hey, I’m just saying. I’m not tied down. Don’t have to deal with a tired wife, screaming kids. It must be hard. No wonder you’re all cranky fuckers.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jesse. You got no idea.” I rub my face, his words hitting too close to home.
“I know the pussy I get never says no.” He throws in and my fist clenches in my lap.
“Jesse, I suggest you shut the fuck up right fuckin’ now,” I warn, close to losing my shit.
“What’s the matter, boss man? Your dick not getting wet?” My ass leaves the seat and my hands find his cut. I don’t care if he’s fucking with me, or just trying to get a reaction. I have him out of his chair and down on the table in less than five seconds.
“Whoa, whoa.” Sy tries to pull me off, but I’m so close to punching this fucker; I won’t be talked down.
“Too far?” he asks, a fucking grin on his face.
“Get the fuck out and go find Beau.” I pull him up by his cut and push him toward the door.
“Got ya, but I just want to say, I didn’t know Kadence was holding out on you.” He smiles, fixing his messed-up shirt.
“Jesse, I swear to fuckin’ Christ, get the fuck OUT!” My fist comes down in front of me. He shrugs, laughing as he leaves.
“Jesus, what the fuck was that?” Brooks asks, sitting back down.
“Nothin’,” I reply, picking up the turned-over chair.
“You still haven’t sorted business between you two?” Sy observes, hitting the nail on the head.
“Fuck.” I shake my head. Not in the mood for this conversation.
“Jesus, I feel you brother.” Sy sighs like he feels my pain.
“What? You haven’t?” I count back the weeks since X was born.
“No, but it’s been seven weeks this week. Gonna sort that shit out soon.” He folds his arms across his chest like a smug bastard.
“Well, it’s been eight fuckin’ months.”
“Fuck.” Both men share my sentiments.