Page 95 of Nikolai (Kansas City Reapers)

Another loud banging sound came from upstairs.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

I turned on my heel, taking a deep breath to steady myself for the conversation to come as I began ascending the staircase.

A moment later, Maddy’s form came down the hallway, standing at the top of the stairs and pausing as our eyes met.

“Maddy…” I began, words utterly failing me.

“Where’s Sully?” she asked after a deep breath of her own. She started down on the staircase. I shook myself from my thoughts, quickly taking the stairs two at a time to meet her.

“Here, let me help you with your bags,” I offered,putting my hand on the handle of her suitcase, only to have her yank it right back away from me.

“I don’t need your fucking help,” she spat at me, her eyes brilliantly ablaze with anger and something else I could not quite pin down. “Sully?” she called out loudly over the railing as she made her way down the stairs, pushing right past me and spurning my help.

I couldn’t lie. It hurt like hell. My chest tightened with the desire to protect her, to care for her. She was obviously upset about all of this, and I had fucked it up.

“You rang?” Sully chuckled from the second story. He had popped out of his room at her calling and leaned over the railing to see her as she stepped onto the main floor of the house.

“Hey, you big teddy bear. Get your ass down here and say goodbye, okay?” My eyes locked on hers, even as I heard the shocked gasp pour from Sully’s lips as he came barreling down the stairs, shoving me back against the wall in his rush to get to her.

Her eyes looked glassy, like she’d either been crying or was about to. Perhaps both.

As soon as Sully had cleared the landing, he wrapped her in his arms, lifting her clear into the air in one of his famous bear hugs.

“It’s okay, big guy. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“I don’t even… what even…” he stuttered through his words, struggling to find coherent thought. I found myself having the same issue.

He took a deep breath as he set her back on the ground, holding her at arm’s length for a moment. Then he wrapped her in his arms again, as Deacon made hisway out of the living room to see what the commotion was about.

His eyes met mine for a moment, understanding written across his face, clear as day.

A noise pulled my attention back to the top of the stairs where Jax stood, hands in his pocket and a curious expression on his face. He came down the stairs slowly, allowing Maddy and Sully their moment to say goodbye before he stepped in.

“Hey Maddy,” he said softly, pulling her in for a hug. Her arms wrapped up around his shoulders, almost clinging to him in a way that surprised me. He and Maddy hadn’t seemed that close. But as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear, I realized perhaps I was wrong. Her eyes closed, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she nodded.

“I understand,” she whispered, pulling away from him and swiping the lone tear from her face.

He took her by the hands, saying something so softly I could not hear him. She hugged him again, whispering, “Thank you.”

Deacon clapped a hand on my back as he passed me, heading to say goodbye to our house guest himself. No hugs or special words were exchanged.

“I wish you all the best, Ms. Ayers,” he said with his hand held out in a formal gesture of farewell.

“Really, Deacon? After all this time?” she said with a smile that lit up her face and an eye-roll that had my chest tightening for the millionth time since I’d made that call to Quinn two days ago.

She pulled him in for a hug, his eyes widening as hechuckled in a way only a Southerner could. Something between a chuckle and an awkward clearing of his throat slipped past his lips, but I could tell that even he was affected by her leaving.

I glanced at my watch, realizing that if we didn’t get on the road soon, I’d be breaking my word to Quinn. So much for that talk I wanted to have with her. The car ride over would have to do, I supposed.

“We should head out,” I said softly. Instantly, four sets of eyes were on me, three of them filled with frustration, and one set, Deacon’s, filled with pity.

Nothing could have hit me harder than the pity and disappointment I read in my older friend’s eyes.

Guilt flooded me; guilt, and more importantly, shame.

I had to fix this, but by all counts, it was far too late.

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