Page 66 of Blue

I pulled my knees into my chest. Sunshine glinted off my pink toenails. I’d painted them to match my mood, but now I wasn’t feeling as light and pretty.

Everyone eventually got sick of my drama. I couldn’t expect someone else to solve my problems. I lowered my legs and slid the folder I’d gotten from Ansel closer. I’d gone through all the information. There were pamphlets on coping techniques, how to deal with family and friends, and how to find forgiveness for yourself. There were also pamphlets on getting a sponsor, the risk of relapse, and how to live in the program.

Recovery wasn’t supposed to be a part of my life, for the rest of my life, but maybe that’s why treatment never worked for me. I stopped working at staying clean.

The screen door banged closed, a car door slammed, and the noise of the engine faded into the distance. A minute later, Sully joined me in the backyard.

I braced for the hit. I couldn’t stay here and make life difficult for him. But the thought of staying with Blue at the clubhouse had panic surging through me.

Staying here or staying with Blue at the MC equated to rejection or opportunity. I wasn’t stupid. Okay, I had been in the past which was how I ended up here. Until I was stronger, I needed to avoid my triggers.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I shook my head, and he picked up one of the pamphlets. “I can’t stay here, Sully.”

“Yes, you can. Leaving doesn’t work for you, peanut. Earning people’s trust back takes time.” He covered my hand with his weathered and calloused palm. “You and I are good. You got Blue, Jazzy, and Rogue. You gotta stay focused on the good stuff.” He tapped the pamphlets. “You focus on this. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

I smiled, fighting to keep tears from my eyes.

“Come on.” He pushed his chair back, and I followed him to the garage. “Be right back.” He ambled into the house and came back thirty seconds later with two keys hanging on a skull and butterfly key chain. He tossed them to me.

After entering the code at the side of the garage, the automatic door rolled into the rafters. The garage was full, and Jazzy’s car was surrounded by stuff.

Sully rummaged through the boxes behind the bumper. “Bike parts. Guess I should’ve known my princess was going to grow up to be a hellion.”

“You know she’s amazing,” I said with a chuckle.

Sully smiled, and a tint of a blush colored his cheeks. “Yep, she’s special.” He glanced around the massive double car garage. There wasn’t a lot of unoccupied space. “This place is a wreck.”

I grabbed a box and dragged it out to the driveway. “It just needs organized.”

Sully laughed. “Not today.”

I paused. “Why not? Do you have something else to do?”

“I guess we’re doing this.” A smile tilted his mouth. “I knew you were going to be good to have around.” He clapped his hands together. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Neither did I, but that was my problem, not his.

Once we had the space cleared, Sully sorted the boxes, mowers, yard tools, and the piles of bike parts. “I’m never going to use half this shit,” he said of the extra Harley body parts.

“Maybe the guys at the shop could use it.”

He pointed at me. “Good thinking. Will you text Blue? If he’s still at the MC, ask him to bring home the hearse. We can haul this stuff out of here.”

I dusted my hands off on my thighs then plucked the phone from the back pocket of my jeans. I sent him the text, but when he didn’t immediately reply, I went back to work with Sully.

He turned on an old stereo. “This used to be Jazzy’s.” He scanned through radio stations and stopped on a country song. “How’s this?”

“It’s good,” I said as I stacked motor oil on the shelf with other automotive fluids.

“You never said how you met Blue.” He rolled a spare tire to the pile of automotive parts.

“At Indulgence.” I smiled at him over my shoulder. “I wanted to talk to Bullet about making more bad decisions. I needed money.” I sighed and owned my truth. “I don’t have many skills. I thought I could work for Bullet.”

“Christ.” Sully leaned his ass against Jazzy’s sedan.

I sat on the bumper next to him. “Sometimes, staying sober seems like a lot of work.”

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