Page 30 of Devil’s Torture

It’s kind of strange. I missed Bexley for years. The time I spent on the road was only survived because of my memories of her.

Now, that feeling is different. More intense. It’s fed by a need which reaches back ten years while also gripping me in the present.

Then there’s Dawn. Missing her is a sweeter feeling, but it’s also shrouded in everything I missed. I’m not sure if I can get over that hurt, but what I refuse to do is allow it to bring down the moments we spend together from now on.

None of it is her burden to carry, and I never want to put it on her shoulders. I’m sure she’d be more than willing because that’s the kind of person she is. And that’s the problem.

She should only have to worry about being a kid. Now, she just happens to be a kid who has her dad in her life as well.

The clubhouse isn’t full, but there are more than a few brothers hanging out. I’ve slowly gotten back into interacting with them. Some of them I’ve been meeting for the first time.

Somehow, those guys are easier.

Rebuilding relationships which have been put on hold is harder.

I’m figuring out that ten years creates a chasm in many different ways. This awkwardness with men I considered my brothers before I left is one I didn’t count on.

It’s one I didn’t think about. Probably because I spent so much time worrying about Bexley and how things would go with her. She was my priority.

The tension in the clubhouse has started to ease. I’m thankful for it.

I’m aware that I stormed back into the clubhouse with a chip on my shoulder. Nothing was how I thought it would be and that’s on me.

I have no idea why I thought I could leave for so long and come back to find everything and everyone waiting for me right where I left them. It was stupid, but it made the time bearable.

Now that I’m back, I’ve been trying to settle in. But sometimes it’s too loud. Sometimes there are too many people.

Sometimes I miss the simplicity of the road.

When Prodigal sits down on the couch next to me and hands me a beer, I take it with a nod and a gruff, “Thanks, brother.”

He doesn’t smile; that’s something reserved for his wife, I’ve noticed. Instead, he looks around the main room of the clubhouse with pride written all over his face.

“How are you settling into club life again? Is it different than when you’d be at other chapters?” I know Prodigal isn’t asking just to pass the time; my VP is asking about his brother and how I’m doing.

“It’s strange being back here,” I admit to him. “Not because this isn’t home but because I haven’t been here in so long. There has been a lot of changes and more than a few people I don’t know.”

“Has anyone given you shit?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice. “I mean,” he chuckles under his breath, “more than just normal giving you shit?”

“Naw, VP,” I give him his title because he’s earning it right now, “nothing like that. I just spent more time on the road in between places than I did in other clubhouses. I’m not used to being around so many people.”

“You must have met a lot of people when you were on the road.”

“It’s not the same when you know you’re leaving. Everything can stay on the surface, and it doesn’t make much of a difference. They’re my brothers, sure, but not in the same way,” I point out.

“Fair enough.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “If you have any trouble or if you just need someone to talk to, I’m here.” He lets out a long breath. “I went on the road for different reasons, and I wasn’t working for the club, but it’s not easy to let go of the open road and that is something I understand.”

He was running from heartbreak and grief.

“Thanks,” I grunt not wanting to get too deep into my feelings with him.

When he glances across the room, one of the club angels is looking me over. I haven’t glanced at any of them. I don’t care to know them; it was true back in the day and it’s just as true now.

Maybe even more.

Because I got a small taste of my Bex.

If I was addicted before, which I fucking was, I’m even more hungry for her after kissing her again. I’m fucking starving.