Lucy has me start making the sauce while she gets the sausage going. We talk about the club and she gives me some more information on how things work and different responsibilities that the girls share. Everyone seems to pitch in, making sure that things get done so the boys don't have to worry about it.
"Hey." I turn to see Tracie standing in the doorway. "Food almost done? Guys are starting to get restless."
Lucy rolls her eyes. "Just waiting on the pasta, so like five more minutes."
I expect Tracie to head back out, so I'm surprised when she comes over to stand by me, leaning over and dipping a finger into the sauce, licking it off and giving me a thumbs up. "Are you coming back to work at the club anymore?"
I don't know how to answer that. I'd love to have something to occupy my time, and it was nice to feel useful. Plus, it would make me feel less indebted to Cutter if I was helping out. On the other hand, Dylan is after me and he knows I was working there.
"I . . . uh . . . I don't know if I can right now."
Tracie's head cocks to the side. "What's up?" Her gaze moves between Lucy and me. "Come on, bleeding heart. If she won't tell me, it won't take much for me to get you to spill."
Lucy looks over at me and shrugs her shoulders. I nod, giving her permission to give Tracie the story. Lucy doesn't have all the details, so I'm not too worried about all my insecurities getting laid out. Besides, if I want these girls to trust me, I need to let them in.
"Remember the guy that went after Melanie?" Tracie nods. "That's Jaz's husband."
If Tracie is the vice president's "old lady" then I don't doubt she's seen a lot of stuff going on. You don't have to be a genius to work that out. Which is what makes my stomach drop even further when her eyes almost pop out of her head.
Lucy looks over at me, making sure I really am okay with my story getting aired out. At least this way, I can control what people know. There's nothing worse than having people hear half a story, and them making the other half up.
"He's an abusive prick. Cutter helped her get out, but the husband isn't accepting the fact that she's left. It's unclear how far he'll go or what he'd do right now, and that's why she's here. Going to the club is rough because he knows it is somewhere she's been."
Tracie nods for a minute before turning to me. "You don't let any asshole control you with fear. No matter if you feel it, you suck that shit in and ball it up until it makes you so angry that the anger gives you strength. You let him hold you back, he wins. I spent years holding myself back from what I wanted because of a fear some asshole instilled in me. Being afraid doesn't make you weak-hiding does. Show him you're better without him, that you can thrive now that he's gone."
My breath leaves me. There is so much in what she said that I can't even begin to wrap my head around it. I open my mouth, but before I can talk, she holds up a hand.
"You're coming to work tomorrow. Don't give me any of that scared bullshit. I'll make sure the place is stacked with security. You can ride with me and walk into that building with your head held high."
I look at her for a minute, taking note of the mix of pain and strength etched across her face. "Okay."
"I'll let the guys know about the food." She walks out of the kitchen and I turn to Lucy.
"Tracie may be crazy, but she's right. You can't stop living because of him." And like she hasn't just witnessed something huge, something that very well may change my life, she turns back to the stove. "Pasta's ready."
Fear and anxiety fill me knowing what is going to happen tomorrow.
But there's also a stirring of something deep in my stomach. A fluttering in my chest that sends tingles rushing through me. Because tomorrow won't just be about facing my fears.
It'll be the day I start to take my life back.
Chapter Seventeen
Jasmine
I reach for the house phone. Being in the house alone all day is enough to make anyone crazy. There are weeks when the only other voice I hear is Dylan's, and then he's rarely saying anything nice, if at all. Ever since we moved, I can't seem to get things right. Maybe talking to someone will help? Not that I'd mention what's been going on. It's bad enough that Dylan thinks badly of me. I don't want that to happen with anyone else.
I really need to talk to my sister. Listening to her talk about her life always cheers me up. I love hearing all about the characters she meets at work. She has some of the funniest stories. Dylan doesn't want me looking for a job. He says I should be here, taking care of the house. It's a shame because being here alone most of the time means I don't have any friends. If I'm honest . . . I'm starting to regret coming here.