Avenging Us (Rocker Series Book 3) (16 page)

When we returned to the room, Gia was back in bed, and that made me happy. She needed rest. Cindy sat in the chair by the window with Bella, rocking her back and forth. Jake, Ender, and Woody followed me in. I went over to pull the blinds closed—the midday sun too bright for Bella’s eyes.

Woody squatted next to Cindy and cooed. “Wee lil’ Bella.” We all laughed. Woody’s normally harsh words were soft and loving. It looked like Bella was staring at his colored hair.

Jake and Ender were at Gia’s bedside. “Fuck, kiddo. You scared the fuck out of us, but we’re thankful you’re fine and we have a niece.” Jake’s voice broke as his thumb caressed her hand.

“Agreed, but how do you feel? Is there anything we can do?” Ender asked, searching for a way to help.

She smiled, but I could see the emotion on her face. She was trying to be brave. For our daughter, and for me. The weaker she thought she was…the harder she fought. But all I wanted to do was take her home and away from this place. This place was a constant, painful reminder, and I was desperate to put it behind me. “I appreciate that guys, and I’ll heal. I’m just thankful for our little girl over there, and her broody father with the long face over there.” She pointed and smiled at me. This time, the smile reached her eyes. Because she knew. We’ve been together long enough that she knew how my twisted mind would fuck with me. However, this was also bigger than her and me. I had to remember that. This incident touched us all because we are family.

“I’m not brooding. Just tired.” I smiled, her eyes focused on my clenched hands then returned to meet my eyes.

She patted the bed to come sit next to her. “Come relax next to me. You look exhausted.”

I went to her side, hopping up on the bed. I wanted to tell everyone to leave. But I didn’t. I wanted to be alone with her. However selfish it sounded, it was something I needed. Jake was the second to hold the baby, while Ender looked on. The anxiety crept along my skin. I didn’t want so many people holding my daughter. She was too new, and they were filthy fucks. I didn’t think anything was more important than protecting those that were mine. That old demon niggled the back of my mind, and my hands continued to fist.

Gia weaved her fingers between mine. “I will ask them to leave. You and I need time. There is no shame in that,” she whispered and I nodded. She was right of course. “Hey, guys…I have to feed the baby. You can come back whenever you’d like.”

“Aye,” Woody’s eyes met mine, and there was understanding—compassion. Ender leaned in to kiss Bella’s head before Jake handed her to Gia. They said their goodbyes, promising to return tomorrow. Gia shot Chance a text next. I knew he’d take it personally but I couldn’t worry about him.

I pressed the remote, lowering the bed, and Gia put the baby between us. “So? Am I supposed to ignore the elephant in the room?”

I smirked. “I don’t see an elephant.”

“Don’t you fucking to that. Don’t you shut me out. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on with you.” A light scowl appeared on her face—the very face I’d been hiding from.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling everything, and you know I’m used to numbing. I’m trying here, Beauty, but you’ve always known my demons.”

“Call your sponsor. You know what you have to do. Get ahead of this. Don’t let this ruin all the work you’ve put into your sobriety. You were in such a good place. I don’t know if I could survive another one of your binges. If you can’t do it for yourself…think of her.” She turned her attention to Bella, who slept soundly on her side.

The joy of life has managed to break down everything I’d built up. I want the decay to wash away. But the pain won’t dissipate, will not fade, but only restricts. All this shit spun around my body, throbbing and threatening to pull me under.

I nodded. Yes, that was the most obvious choice, but I needed more than my sponsor. The sound of a throat being cleared pulled me out of my thoughts.
My father
. His knowing eyes locked on mine. He smiled, holding up a bouquet of flowers. My mother showed her face from behind him. “Is this a good time?” he asked, walking over. His hand held my mothers as they approached.

I got off the bed to welcome him, but Gia responded before I could. “Thank you, God. At least someone’s listening to my prayers.”

“Well, that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me God. What’s going on?” My dad walked over and kissed Gia. Then lifted Bella right off the bed, wrapping her in his arms while my mother watched and waited her turn eagerly.

Gia grinned, and I knew what she was thinking.
We were a lot alike
. Bella was in tune with his natural command. It calmed her, and she finally took a breath. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me, because it did. However, he was stronger than me in every way that mattered. I used to hate him for it.

He walked straight over to me with my daughter, and Mom went to fawn over Gia. “What’s going on with you?”

I was going to lie and say nothing. Be obstinate, but the healthier side of me decided against it. Because, at the end of the day, I didn’t want to feel this way. I needed my best advisor. I needed my father. My whole life, he was the one I could turn to when I needed a dose of good judgment and tough love. His had a unique insight and I valued his opinion, even though I acted like I didn’t and caused embarrassment to him. Incapable of sugarcoating anything or mincing words, his clear, passionate, commanding voice was always ready to give me a nudge when I needed one. Like right now.

“I’m going through something.” I shrugged, looking down at my daughter.

He nodded, and handed the baby to my mother’s waiting arms. “Let’s go grab lunch.”

Gia’s face seemed hopeful. “We’ll be fine. Please, go.” She nodded. She wasn’t asking, but urging.

“Okay.” I walked over and kissed her lips as my father pulled the chair next to Gia’s bed for my mother to sit.

My mother’s shrill voice echoed off the walls. “I love you, Abel.” I heard her words but didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, I followed my father out of the room. She tried, time and time again. However, I didn’t have enough forgiveness in the world to let a relationship between us blossom. I still had a hard time over her past…and what she did to Chance. In turn—how Chance handled it. I knew it was out of her control, yet she was the match the started the fire that almost burnt my life down.

“Any ideas where we could have a quiet meal and talk?” he asked as the elevator doors closed.

“Other than the cafeteria—no. Once we leave the building, we’re fair game to the press,” I bit out. “Fucking media,” I added with a snarl.

“It’s the business. Thought you’d be used to it by now,” he said, arching his brow.

“I heard the first picture of Bella has a price tag of half a mill. Everyone wants to cash in on that. And it’s not that I fault them for wanting to put food on their table, but they have no sense of social grace. They appear out of thin air and wait for me. It gets on my nerves because it’s not just me…it’s my daughter.” I felt exhausted after that, the anger wearing me down.

We moved quickly through the lobby and into an adjacent stairwell. I followed, not saying a word. My father is the type of guy you don’t question. He had a plan, and I could use the distraction.
The basement
. It was dark and the lighting poor. I kept pace as we rounded the final floor in silence, our feet on the floor the only sound around us. He opened the door and I stepped through into a dim hallway. Then the door slammed behind us and echoed loud. We moved quicker this time. His strides long and sure. We passed phlebotomy labs, x-ray rooms, storage closets, until we got to the end of a darkened hall. A faint light was just visible along the corridor. He held his hand, guiding it back and forth, and the light came on.
Morgue
. My inhale clogged my throat and the bitterness followed…I swallowed. We moved down two steps in silence, then stopped with his hand clutching the rail. He stood stoically still, as if listening out for something. There wasn’t a sound to be heard.
What in the fuck
.

Two knocks sounded and my dad smiled, pushing open the door. The bright sun flowed in, causing me to squint. Fuck, I’ve been in this place for too long. In quick succession, we stepped out and jumped into the limo—I found it to be stocked with a full bar. My eyes fell upon my second love—scotch.

“Where to, James Bond?” I laughed for the first time in a few days.

He smiled, clearly enjoying the fact that he surprised me. “I have a few friends in a few places. I don’t know why you’re surprised that I know my way around.”

“Yeah, just a bit surprised you know your way around the basement of a hospital.”

We drove for a few minutes, sitting in comfortable silence. I checked my phone. Nothing from Gia, and only a text from Dave.

Dave: Giselle reached out. Rolling Stone wants to do an interview, and they’re willing to come to you. Thoughts…

I didn’t answer and put my phone away. Giselle, Ender’s sister, was a free-lance music journalist. I suspected her visit to LA wasn’t by accident. Ender was instrumental in getting her set up in the industry. My father helped with any legalities that came up. She double majored in college and held degrees in both English and journalism. She worked her ass off, and her family was proud. However, I had my own suspicions as to why she chose the music industry. I smelled trouble and felt a hollow feeling beneath my ribs. I hoped it was just the emotional witch’s brew talking, and not an omen of something to come. Because, if I were right, the future of Lethal Abel would be on the line.
Yoko Ono.

We sat around the back of a red brick building. I didn’t even realize we arrived at our destination until the door flung open and we ducked into the back door. We were met at the door by a man in Houndstooth checked pants and a pair of crocks. My father shook his hand firmly, and then introduced him. “This is Mario.”

I shook his offered hand. “Thanks for your discretion. I appreciate it.”

His eyes widened as he roved over my tatted arms and hands. “It’s my pleasure,” he said politely, gathering his hair into a small ponytail. I’ve seen this guy around. I know I have, but I didn’t have it in me to ask.

We walked through the fast paced kitchen as staff continued preparing meals for the restaurant’s patrons. “Your table.” Mario pulled out both chairs at a white-lined table for two. It was just what I needed to straighten my shit out. The table was set just past the doors to the dining area next to the refrigerated walk-in.

Mario left straight away, promising to bring water and appetizers when he returned. Again, I was grateful. I raised my brow, wondering how the old man pulled this off. “Friends in high places?” I gave him the same smirk he wore in the limo.

He sat and draped the napkin across his lap. “Called in a favor.”

I nodded, chewing on that thought. Guilt bubbled up my throat, presenting a sour taste. I wondered how many favors he’d called in for me in my short lifetime. How many debts he owed because of me.

The chef brought over a basket of bread and plates of flavored olive oil for dipping.

“So, what’s going on, son?”

What
isn’t
going on is what I wanted to say, but thought better of it. I was in a rough way, and I wanted to lash out at someone. “I’m fucked up in the head, but you already know that.”

He nodded and took a sip of his water the waiter had brought over. “What exactly is fucking up your head?” He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, showing me his interest in this conversation.

I didn’t look him in the eye, but instead, trained my attention on the picture on the wall above his head. Ah, to be so pious…so devout, wisely using scriptures for deeper meaning. I ran my hand over my thickening beard. Fuck, I needed a shave. But I needed a lot of things. Clarity was high on the list. “Watching—no,
hearing
that machine stop beeping and the aftermath that ensued. It’s on replay, and I don’t know how to turn it off. I mean, I should be thankful. And I am—believe me. But fuck, I never felt anything so real in my fucking life.”

He listened carefully, and a dark-haired waiter placed three dishes in front of us. “Enjoy,” he said and bowed, returning to his station. It smelled ridiculous. We had grilled vegetables brushed with olive oil, fried Calamari, and some tomatoes with fresh mozzarella. My stomach growled as I filled my plate.

I took my first bite of mozzarella and identified something tangible. “It’s a physical pain. My fucking heart hurt.” I savored the fresh cheese on my tongue, but found myself rubbing the familiar ache in my chest.

“You’re angry, and your faith has been shaken.” His eyebrows pinched together. “Did you pray?”

“We weren’t church-goers.”

“Doesn’t matter where you choose to worship. Now answer me. Did you pray?”

I placed a forkful of eggplant into my mouth. “I did, or maybe it was more like spiritual Tourette’s. So I mostly cursed. Does that count?” The words I refused to say tumbled through my head.
You almost let her die
. As quickly as the thought entered my head, I forced it out. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about, yet it was on top of the pile of unbearable thoughts.

“It’s grief, Abel. Your mind is still grieving the potential loss.” His voice was solemn as he spoke. “Give yourself permission to feel however you feel. It was a traumatic event for both of you. However, you were awake for it.” He ripped a piece of bread from the small loaf. As he buttered, he continued. “You have post-traumatic stress disorder…or PTSD.”

“Great,” I said, dismissing his last statement while the waiter plated our lunch. We had filets with sautéed hot cherry peppers, and I was beyond starved. The appetizers barely curbed my hunger. I felt like a man that hadn’t eaten in years.

“It’s triggered by experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event. It was both for you, son.” He confirmed it by looking up the symptoms on his phone. He began scrolling with his finger as I continued to cut into my steak, but listened anyway. “Okay, here we go… Symptoms include flashbacks, nightmares, and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts.” He locked the screen and placed his phone on the table.