Page 99 of Taking What's Ours

“Just had a hunch.” He jerks his head. “Come on, Baja. Let’s have a beer.”

“I don’t think so. I think I’ll stay here.” I turn back to the headstone.

“You’re not going to find what you’re looking for here, son,” Rock says.

“Family and love aren’t in the cards for me, it seems, Prez. So maybe this is exactly where I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

Rock lifts his chin to Trez and Darko, and before I realize what it means, they each grab an arm and haul me to my feet. Rock reaches into my cut and pulls out my gun, ejecting the clip and shoving it in the waistband at the small of his back.

“Check him,” he barks, and my brothers frisk me for more.

“He’s clean,” Trez proclaims.

“This about Elaina?” Darko asks.

“She’s gone. Won’t reply. Probably blocked me. I don’t blame her. She was right to worry.” I hold a hand out to the grave. “Bad things happen to women who get close to me. She was smart to leave before I got her killed, too.”

“You are not to blame for their deaths, Baja,” Rock bites out.

“If it wasn’t for me, the Phantom Marauders wouldn’t have run her off the road, and they’d both be alive today.”

Rock gets right in my face and grabs a handful of my shirt, dragging me close. “It was not your fault.” He searches my eyes, but I don’t believe him. “I’m gonna tell you something, Baja. Something I kept from you all those years ago. Something I saw no point in telling you at the time, but I had no clue you felt such incredible and misplaced guilt over what happened.”

“Tell me what?” I murmur.

“It’s not gonna make any of this better, son. It may make it worse, but I can’t stand here and have one of my brothers thinking about eating a bullet over this shit.”

“You got somethin’ to say, then say it,” I reply without emotion, feeling like I’m underwater.

“I hid this from you because you were already in enough pain. Saw no point in adding to it. But the fact is, I saw the police report about the accident. It showed Hannah had a blood alcohol level of almost double the legal limit. Baja, it wasn’t the Phantom Marauders who caused the accident. They were in the area, but they didn’t run her off the road. She was drunk.”

I surge toward him, intending to punch him in his lying fucking mouth, but Darko and Trez hold me back.

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shout.

“It’s not, Baja. She was drunk. She drove off the road and hit that tree, but not because another club forced her off. It’s ugly, but it’s the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this.”

If I had my gun, I think I’d use it right now. He’s right; it makes it worse. If she was drunk, that was probably my fault, too. I was a bad influence on her or I’d done something to make her mad or sad.

Just like I seem to have done with Elaina.

“Pull yourself together, Baja,” Rock snaps. “You’re a fucking Royal Bastard. Act like one. Act like you’ve got a damn spine.”

It stings, like he meant it to when he said it. I inhale and stand taller. “I know exactly who the hell I am.”

“Do you?” he bites. “Then fucking act like it. You want Elaina, then go get her.”

I shake my head. “That’s over. She made it clear this isn’t the life for her.”

“Bullshit,” Trez mutters behind me.

Rock looks at him, then swings his gaze back to me. “If that’s over, then I’ll send Desiree by your house tonight. She’ll shake you out of this funk.”

“I don’t want Desiree.”

“What was that?” Rock asks, putting his hand to his ear and leaning forward.

“I said, I don’t want Desiree.”

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