Page 18 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter Seven

Lacey

There was no time for me to fall into a depression after I left the doctor. I picked up Danny and brought him back to my house. I fixed him a snack as he did his homework and listened to him go on about his day. My little brother was the perfect distraction and quickly becoming the best medicine. A little while later my father called, announcing Reina was asking for Danny.

Twenty minutes later my father arrived, and my brother’s eyes lit up when he shared the news that he was taking him to see Reina. He hurried up the stairs to get the drawings he had made for her, leaving me and my dad alone in the kitchen.

“I take it since you’re bringing Danny to the hospital, things are looking up for Reina?” I question, trying to hide the bitterness in my tone. It’s not that I don’t want Reina to regain her memory. It’s just I’m afraid of what happens when I’m not needed anymore. Looking after Danny has been my saving grace, the one thing that forces me to keep it together. The days I don’t have him are the days I fall apart and lose myself to my mind.

“We had a good morning. Made some progress, and she wants to see him,” my dad says. I can feel the intensity of his dark eyes as he pulls out a chair and I can’t help but wonder if he sees right through me.

Straddling the back, he falls into the seat and narrows his eyes on me.

“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA the last few days.”

“It’s fine,” I reply with a shrug. “It was easier to bring Danny home with me than travel back and forth to Brooklyn. If you don’t mind, I’d like him to stay with me until Reina comes home from the hospital and you two settle in.”

“Whatever works for you,” he replies evenly. “I’m feeling better too so I can take him at night. Give you a break.”

“I don’t need a break and I kind of like the company,” I tell him, finally meeting his worried gaze.

“I spoke to Schwartz,” he reveals, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him since before Blackie was arraigned. To be fair, there was really no point. Until now, I’m not even sure my father has given much thought to my husband’s situation.

“He told me what happened at the arraignment,” he continues, and I quickly jolt from my seat at the kitchen table. I’m not about to listen to him go on about the tantrum I threw. Not when the man has been losing his mind himself.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap, making my way towards the sink. Bracing my hands against the counter, I bow my head.

“Schwartz is going to get him off. It’s only a matter of time before this whole mess sorts itself out and he comes home,” he assures me, closing the distance between us. I feel him drape an arm around my shoulders and I lose my cool. Prying myself out of his reach, I turn to him abruptly and angrily wipe the tears that have betrayed me.

“Maybe I don’t want him to come home,” I blurt. “Maybe I don’t want to listen to his apologies while he lies to my face. Maybe I’m sick of it.”

Maybe I deserve better.

Maybe my baby does.

“What’re you talking about?”

I’m not sure how to respond because until Blackie missed hearing our baby’s heartbeat I was still hanging onto hope. But now all I keep thinking about are the drugs I found in his kutte and there is no coming back from that. Not this time. Not after I begged and pleaded for him to choose us over everything else. Blackie is a narcissist. If he’s not throwing himself in front of a bullet, he’s snorting himself into oblivion. All the while he’s making promises and telling lie after lie.

“I found drugs in his pocket while I was washing clothes,” I reveal, snatching a dish towel from the counter. Roughly drying my hands, I continue to air my husband’s dirty laundry to my father. “He swore he was done,” I hiss, tossing the towel across the room. “You know, this baby wasn’t an accident. We were trying to get pregnant. We both wanted to start this next chapter of our lives. He told me he was ready that he was even excited about becoming a father.”

“I get the picture,” he mutters causing me to roll my eyes. It’s impossible to have an adult conversation with the man because he still thinks I’m a child and a virgin to boot.

“Oh, cut it out, will you? I’m not mother Mary. This wasn’t the immaculate conception.”

“For fuck's sake, Lacey—”

“You’re missing the point,” I say over him. “I don’t want Blackie in jail. I really don’t but I won’t welcome him home with open arms if he’s using.”

Hell, I won’t welcome him home if he’s straight either. It’s time he learns the consequences of his actions. Instead of sharing all that with my father, I keep it simple.

“He needs to get himself right and he can do that on your fucking couch,” I say pointedly.

“Whoa… don’t you think you’re jumping the gun here?”

It’s possible but I don’t tell him that and a moment later our conversation is interrupted by his phone. He takes the call and I listen as he talks business with someone on the other line. I roll my eyes and tune him out. The last thing I want is to hear about anything that has to do with the Satan’s Knights. Hell can swallow them whole, and I’ll be perfectly okay with it. The club has taken too much from me. Too much from everyone I love. The sad thing is that I’m the only one who realizes it. The only one who has had enough.

Eventually, he ends the call and by the deadly flicker of anger in his eyes, I know nothing good has come from it. Still, he forces a smile as Danny returns from upstairs and with the promise to bring him back after dinner. The second the door closes behind them I feel the loss. The house becomes too big. Too empty. Too quiet.

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