Page 94 of What Lies Within

I know what it is to be needed, to have someone want from me what they can't give for themselves.

Hell, I’ve felt the desperation for human connection from a brother’s hug more than once in my time at the club.

It's the simplest gift we can give our fellow man and a gift we withhold all too often. As though being an island is a badge of honor. As though independence is a mark of success.

Fuck that.

We were born seeking our mother’s touch, and we’ll die seeking our lover’s.

If the best thing I can do is hold this woman against me and remind her she isn't alone in the dark, then I'll gladly open my arms.

For as many times and as long as she needs.

Because fuck it all, I know she'd do the same.

37

MADDIE

His brooding profile highlighted by the dim glow of the fire, I find my uncle in the same spot as I've seen him a thousand nights before: slouched in the worn Chesterfield, one fist tucked beneath his chin as he stares into the open fire. His head rises when I approach, and Digger pats the cushion at his side in an invitation to join him in his midnight musings.

“Can’t sleep?” His words are as much a statement as they are a question.

"Not really." My brain can't decide which to ponder more: Sweetie's demise or Deo's lack of response. I drop beside Digger and lift his arm to tuck myself against his side. "Can I ask you something?"

“You could read me the fucking ingredients on a soup can, for all I care. It’s just good to hear your voice, Mads.”

I take a moment to relish his admission before forging ahead. “How does this work for you guys?”

He pauses. “What do you mean?”

"I mean, Daddy's up in Rae's room right now, and you're down here hypnotized by the fire." I sigh. "I guess I just don't understand how you both share her without getting jealous."

He stays quiet for a long while, chest steadily rising and falling against my cheek. "If I said I was never jealous when they're alone, I'd be a liar." He hesitates before continuing. "But I guess what makes it work is knowing that seeing how she makes him happy makes me happy, too. I've been tryin’ for years to get your old man to relax. To turn his mind to something other than the club. But there’s only so much I can do as his brother.” He shrugs. “Rae fills that void.”

"Do you ever wish you could have what she gives him for yourself, though?" I don't ask to stir the pot. I ask because I care about my uncle, and watching him retreat further into himself the older I get has been my own kind of torture.

I've never known Uncle Dig to be truly happy, but I want that for him.

"I do get the same for myself," he answers. "And again, I think that's what makes it work. Rae never pits us against each other. She never makes us compete. We each get what we need from her, and in turn, she gets all she needs from both of us."

“I guess.” Years of conditioning have me struggling to understand how their dynamic works, but I can see his point. My head aches as I try to undo my preconceptions of what love must be—of how a relationship needs to look.

If I can be wrong about this, then what else do I ignorantly believe?

Gaze soft on the dancing flames, I ask, “What’s next for us? For the club?”

Digger sighs, hand patting my arm. “Wish I could tell you, beautiful girl.”

“But you can,” I tease, aware nobody else is here to overhear him sharing club business with me.

"No." He smiles sadly. "I mean, I wish I knew the answer so I could tell you."

“Oh.” Hearing he doesn’t have the solution raises my pulse. He’s supposed to be my pillar. Part of the foundation for everything safe in my life. He’s supposed to have the answers, to know what to say to set me at ease.

To know how we get out of this.

The older people in your life are supposed to know how to deal with the monsters under the bed.

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