Okay, High had never been a favorite. I liked him but, I had to admit, him being surly and all, he wasn’t a favorite. Even if his words made me feel guilt, they also now made him a favorite.
“Lanie’s workin’ through some shit,” Hop responded vaguely.
“Help her work through it faster,” High shot back and I heard a door close.
I gave it a moment before I opened the door and took one step out. I limited it to one when I saw the look on Hop’s face.
“Now my brothers are bustin’ their asses to cover our shit, and you race to the bathroom like you’re fifteen, we’re in your bedroom, I just popped your cherry, and your dad’s at the door. Babe, I get you got issues but on top of all our other shit, we gotta spend some time sortin’ those out.”
This was an unfortunate opening, mostly because it ticked me off.
“Are you saying it’s more important to talk about that right now rather than our earlier conversation?” I asked.
“I’m sayin’ we got a lot to work through and your other shit bein’ in the way is not gonna make this current shit any easier.”
I held his eyes for long moments before I queried carefully, “Did you honestly think I’d be down with all that?”
“No, because I wasn’t down with it,” he answered. “What I honestly thought was that you know me. I’m no different now that you know my history than the man you made love with an hour ago, babe. I wasn’t hankerin’ for the time I shared that history with you but I honestly thought, you bein’ Cherry’s girl, Cherry knowin’ about all this shit, Cherry gettin’ it, you would get that that man was never me. That man was the man he had to be to get this Club to the point it could be a family that would cushion a woman’s fall.”
A blow and a dirty one.
“That’s not fair,” I said quietly.
“It’s not only fair, it’s real and you know it,” he returned. “My brothers fought, bled and died for you to have this family, lady. You can’t get in my face weeks ago about bein’ nonjudgmental and then stand here in my room and my tee and force your judgment on me. Even if that shit was me and I found redemption, it’s not anymore and, you’re the woman I thought you were, you’d be down with that but, like I’ve explained, it never fuckin’ was.”
It stunk but he had a point.
“Since we’re letting it all hang out,” I started to suggest, “perhaps we should revisit Benito.”
“Said all I’m gonna say about that motherfucker,” Hop replied.
“Is that old life over?” I asked.
“Told you it was,” he answered.
“Then who’s Benito?”
“Scum that wants a slice of Chaos territory. Problem with that, he eats that slice, he’ll want more. So you hold him back.”
“And how do you do that?”
“For you, babe, I said more about that motherfucker but now I’ve said all I’m gonna say.”
Again, we stood there staring at each other in silence until I broke it.
“I need time to process all I learned today.”
“You got two seconds,” he returned instantly. “You take more than two seconds to walk your ass over here and put your arms around me, accepting me for who I am despite what I used to do, we got problems.”
Oh God.
“What kind of problems?”
“The kind of problems that come from me knowin’ you lied. Me knowin’ you judge. And I don’t want that shit in my life or around my kids.”
Was he crazy?
“Hop!” I snapped. “You just told me you were an enforcer and Chaos dealt drugs and prostituted women.”
“Never said Chaos dealt drugs,” he shot back.
“Were drugs involved in your operations?” I retorted.
“Yes,” he clipped.
I leaned toward him. “Then we’re arguing about me saying tomatoes and you saying toe-mah-toes.”
“No, babe, we’re arguing about me laying the honesty on you, letting it all hang out, somethin’ you missed wasn’t real easy to do just as it wasn’t real easy to do the shit I used to do and I told you that too, and you passing judgment on me.”
“I just asked for time,” I reminded him.
“And I just told you, if you know what we got between us is real and you’re in it all the way with me, you don’t need that time.”
“I’m a fledgling old lady, Hopper. Give me a break,” I returned.
“You won’t be an old lady, Lanie, if you don’t give me one.”
My mouth dropped open.
That was it, my breaking point. I’d had enough and honestly, who could blame me.