Ride Steady (Chaos, #3)(98)
“Babe,” I heard High call and I looked his way. “Not bein’ a dick, but you need to take this up with your man.”
“You said don’t give up,” I returned, my voice a whisper, and I watched his mouth clamp shut. When it did, I shared, “He said he’s over it.”
“Maybe he is,” Hound put in.
I twisted to him, thinking that said a lot.
And what that said was that in his time as a brother, Joker hadn’t given it to them either.
But I sensed High knew. I sensed Tack did too.
I looked from Hound to Hop.
He knew as well.
They’d been around him and they weren’t stupid. They’d probably even seen the scars.
So I knew they knew.
“Carrie, babe, listen to me,” Tack said, and I turned to see he’d straightened from the desk and was facing me. “Man’s gotta face his own shit in his own time.”
I heard him, loud and clear.
I just didn’t like what he had to say.
That being, they knew, and they hadn’t done a thing about it.
I straightened my shoulders and kept his gaze. “Okay, I understand. So this is mine.”
“Babe—” Tack started.
“No,” I said softly and watched him shut his mouth. “They hurt him. Now they need to hurt.”
Tack’s brows went up. “They?”
“His mother,” I told him. “I’m going to find her too.”
Tack drew in breath before he said quietly, “He’s gettin’ there. You in his life, he’s movin’ in a direction he wasn’t close to takin’ before he found you.”
That felt nice.
But not nice enough.
“Maybe, but he’s not there,” I returned. “And you knew. You couldn’t do anything because you have a manly man biker code you have to follow. But I don’t.”
Tack swung his head toward his wife. “Red, you wanna help me here?”
Tyra shrugged. “I don’t follow the manly man biker code either.”
After she delivered that, she grinned at me.
I grinned back.
“Trust me, this is not a good idea,” Tack growled to his woman and shifted his gaze to me. “Seriously, Carissa.”
“You knew,” I stated and softened my tone. “You know.”
“I did and I do,” Tack confirmed. “And I’ll tell you somethin’ you gotta learn, darlin’. You took up this life, you entered our world, you got one a’ my brothers in your bed, and if you want him to stay there, this has gotta sink in. My woman fought my battles for me, that would make me far from happy. And Joker is a brother for a reason, that reason bein’, like every man here, we share blood of a different variety.”
I understood what he was saying, and what he was saying didn’t sound good.
I swallowed.
“Think on this and don’t do anything hasty,” Tack advised.
Maybe I should take his advice.
I looked to Tyra.
She scrunched her nose and tipped her head to the side.
I didn’t understand that, and in the company of four Chaos brothers, I couldn’t ask.
I gave my gaze to Tack. “Okay. I won’t be hasty.”
He appeared visibly relieved, which kind of scared me that I might be doing the wrong thing.
“I… Joker’s at my house. I need to get home,” I said.
“Tell him we said hey,” Hound ordered good-naturedly.
I gave him a shaky grin and nodded.
Then I gave my farewells and got out of there.
I got in my car and backed out of my spot by the stairs to Ride’s office.
Okay, that didn’t go as planned. Perhaps I should have thought it through more fully.
But I hadn’t been able to get it out of my head. Even after what happened the night before (the good part on the couch, before and after the drama), falling asleep with Joker again, getting up with Joker (again), getting ready and heading out to work (with Joker… again), I could force myself to let it go.
But all day I’d be scanning groceries, doing it seeing the insides of his biceps. The random pattern of white rings surrounded by puckered skin.
Dozens of them.
All over.
When had he endured that?
I couldn’t imagine the boy I knew in high school would allow that to happen. I’d seen him with split lips and black eyes, holding himself funny. But although he was larger now, had filled out, he was no scrawny kid. He’d have fought back if his father tried to do that to him.
Wouldn’t he?
I shook my head as I drove.
He would.
Anyone would.
Burning.
This all could only mean one of two things. His father did it to him when he was younger and couldn’t fight back, which was utterly unthinkable. Or his father did it to him when he was older, but did it after he made it so he couldn’t fight back, which was also utterly unthinkable.
But even so, I couldn’t quit thinking about it.
So I had to do something about it.
I was halfway home when my phone binged with a text. Being a mother, and now a girlfriend (I hoped, we hadn’t made it official, but that was the only thought that made me smile all day), I didn’t ignore it. I grabbed my phone and looked at it when I was stopped at a red light.