Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stick around for a couple of weeks… just in case things go sideways.”
“You can stay as long as you want, brother,” Preacher replied without a second’s hesitation. “Storm or no storm, you can always consider this home.”
“Appreciate that, brother.”
“Always.” Preacher motioned his chin toward the bar. “You up for a beer?”
“Got anything stronger?”
“You know I do.” He reached under the counter and came up with a bottle of bourbon with no label, because the good shit never had one. “This suit you?”
“Yeah, that should do the trick.”
We claimed a couple of stools at the end of the counter, and other than a couple of guys half-assing a game of pool in the back, we had the place to ourselves. He poured us both a drink, and then another and another.
Talk came easy at first. We drank over old times and the crazy shit we used to get into. Preacher filled me in on some of the changes in the club, new prospects and new rivals, and I told him what I knew about Stone and the boys back home. Halfway through the bottle, Preacher let out a long exhale, and I knew he was gearing up to say something I didn’t want to hear.
“Sure was sorry to hear what happened to your ol’ lady and kid.” He cocked his head to the side, looking away from me as he added, “Can’t imagine how rough that had to be.”
The words hit harder than the bourbon. “Yeah… me, too.”
Preacher didn’t push. He just waited, calm and steady, until I finally told him, “They were everything to me, and when I lost ‘em… Hell, I didn’t think I was ever gonna get through it.”
“I get it. I lost Beckett a year or so back, and I held a lot of guilt over it. Hell, I still do.” He poured another shot and tossed it back before adding, “I’ve tried to put it behind me, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“Never is.”
“No, but I don’t figure you’re supposed to just walk away from something like that without a few ghosts following along.”
“The ghosts are rough.” I downed another shot and let the burn ease the knot in my throat. “Don’t have it in me to do that shit again… I’m steering clear of anything that has the power to wreck me like that.”
Preacher let out a low grunt, the kind you use when you hear insanity coming from someone else’s mouth. He cocked a brow and asked, “And how’s that been working out for ya?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?’
“Yeah, but you’re a shell of the man I knew five years ago.” He didn’t bother treading lightly. He just came right out with it. “I’m not one to issue unsolicited advice, especially when I ain’t got no right to give it. You’re not one of my boys, but I’ve always thought a lot of you and what you’ve done for the Kansas City chapter… Right now, you’re not living. You’re just going through the motions.”
I didn’t respond. I knew anything I had to say would come out wrong, so I just kept my mouth shut and listened as he added, “From where I’m sitting, I’d say your penance has been paid. Hell, it was paid a long time ago.”
“I’ve heard all this before.”
“Don’t doubt that. But have you heard it from someone who carries the same guilt you carry? There were a hundred things I could’ve done differently. And if I had, maybe I could’ve saved my boy.”
Anguish marked his face as he said, ‘my boy,’ and I understood that pain better than anyone. It’s hard enough to lose someone you care about, but losing your own flesh and blood, knowing you could’ve stopped it, hits harder.
A hundred thoughts were going through my head, but I remained silent and listened as he continued, “Bet you feel the same about yours. Thing is, we both know we can’t go back. We just have to face the day ahead and try to be better. Better for them and better for ourselves. It’s what we owe ‘em.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Oh, it’s hard as hell, but it’s time you got back to living.”
“And what if I can’t?”
“You can… if not for yourself, do it for them. They wouldn’t want you living like this, brother. Nobody does.”
“I’m tired, Preach. I’m so… fucking tired.”
“I know you are, son.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with emotion in his eyes. “But you can stop now. You can stop running, stop keeping everyone at arm’s length. Let yourself settle in and find some peace.”
“I don’t know if I have it in me to settle.”
“You have before. You can again… You’ve been alone long enough, brother.”
“I’m not looking for anything.”
“Don’t gotta be lookin’ to find it, brother.”