“Thanks. Miah, I—”
“Not yet. We’ll talk when I can beat your ass for this shit.”
“In your dreams. I gotta go.”
I end the call with a heavy heart, knowing that I may not be capable of keeping the promise I just made, but needing it just as much as I’ve needed anything in my life.
I’m not a wuss and I’ve never been one to allow emotions to rule my life, but if Mel needs me, I will find a way to get to her.
***
Melissa
The call with Uncle Dobs was a weird one, to say the least. If I hadn’t been informed by Miah that the poor man is innocent, I would have totally sneered at the obvious tears he kept crying on the phone.
Talk about awkward, trying to comfort a man you suspected of treason not twenty-four whole hours ago. The I’d fought my own tears when he kept saying over and over again that he should have just helped Daddy when he called, but he was terrified of getting involved because there were rumors that he was going to be investigated at one point.
The excuse and his obvious remorse do nothing to kill my anger for the man, but he’s
all I have left. With the way things are going in my relationship, I can’t say I’m about to count Roman as a part of my little family yet.
Not till he tells me he loves me and swears to commit to me more than to his stupid job.
Now Dobs is on the way and I’m headed over to my father’s house to clean up and get the place ready for sale. I also have to get his ashes from the funeral home and see the lawyer, but for now, I just want one minute of peace to consider what my next steps will be.
Jared is right, and though this morning’s conversation during the car ride to the bar wasn’t great for my anger, I’ve considered Miah and Jared’s advice and I’ve decided to step back and let Roman have at this without my interference.
I have problems of my own and a kid to consider.
I’m doing something the old me would applaud, something I never would have considered until Jared let me know very honestly that I belong to the Lane family as much as I do to myself or Roman, specifically.
No matter what, I will never be alone again.
I feel so much better after having someone reassure me of that. In fact, I feel so good that when I looked up a half hour ago and saw Fin, one of Will’s guys, staring at me in a weird way, I didn’t even acknowledge it.
“Hey, Melissa, you sweet little angel, how about coming on over here and talking to an old man,” Lonnie yells from the end of the bar, throwing Fin a look hot enough to peel his skin clean off his bones.
I shuffle over in my Converse and a pair of pants that Ellie gave me with an elastic waistband that makes me feel like Fat Betty.
“Hey, Lon. You okay?” I ask, pushing a beer his way and grabbing a chilled ginger ale and a cracker that tastes like sawdust but settles things down nice and easy.
“You stay away from that guy. He’s been eyeing you all morning and he looks to be wanting death, he’s that obvious about it. Stay close to old Lon till Will gets here to take care of the little snot,” he growls, throwing another scowl and unclipping his piece.
“Er, no shooting. Company policy dictates I un-holster Bertha if a shot is fired, and I’d hate to have to pepper your old ass while you’re trying to defend me, Lon.”
I wouldn’t shoot this man if I had a gun to my head and we both know it, so his smile is expected and welcome when he suddenly narrows his eyes and lifts his chin.
The scream I hear comes a second later and I twist around in time to see Will smashing Fin’s face into the scarred old wood with so much force that his nose snaps before a river of blood comes rushing forth.
“You watching her that way for a reason, asshole?” Will snarls. I feel my skin prickle with gooseflesh.
Fin can hardly shake his head, much less speak, and I cringe away when Will pops him again and repeats the question.
“I said, are you watching her that way for a reason, asshole?”
“N-n-no boss, no, just…appreciating her is all. Can’t a man look?”
It takes my brain a few seconds to process the garbled mess that bubbles forth through the blood.
“Now see, here’s the thing. I don’t believe you, Finny boy. I think you’re watching her and thinking of all that money you took in exchange for grabbing her right here in my bar. And see again, I think that you were calculating every ounce of coke you can get up your nose with that money. That pisses me off, boy. It really does. You looking at my girl there, Finny? You see all that innocent beauty staring back at you, cringing for your pain? That woman belongs to us. She’s our princess, and what kind of brothers would we be if we let some scumbag junkie hurt her to earn drug money?”