Cotton (Hades Abyss MC 12)

Cotton (Hades Abyss MC 12)
Harley Wylde
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Copyright ©2024 Harley Wylde

Cotton

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped together so tightly my knuckles turned white. The pressure helped ground me, keeping me tethered to the present. The past threatened to suck me under, drag me back down to the dark place where sleep was nearly impossible. I’d come a long way in the last year, but the guilt still ate at me, gnawing at my insides until I thought I might explode from the pain. My head bowed, so I closed my eyes, resting my elbows on my knees.

No matter how much time passed, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to forgive myself. Roe had told me more than once what happened wasn’t my fault. The demons in my head didn’t seem to care. Roe had been a victim. So had I. Knowing that hadn’t stopped me from thinking I could have done more, something to prevent what happened.

My brow furrowed, and my jaw clenched. The tension in my body made my muscles ache. Would I ever be able to let it go? Hell, would I ever want to? As the memories played in a continuous loop, I shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. When that didn’t help, I dragged my hand through my hair. The knots in my stomach made me nauseous. I hadn’t eaten much in the last few days. Seemed like the demon in my head had decided to visit.

Those memories could go fuck themselves. I knew I should get up, eat something, maybe hang out in the clubhouse. Except I couldn’t seem to make myself move. As I sat there, the edge of the bed digging into my ass, I stared at the room. Never needed a lot, but even this felt like it was closing in on me.

A few personal items dotted the room. Nothing too girly. I had a framed photo of Roe, something I probably should have put away. The book on my nightstand had been read so many times it was about to fall apart. Next chance I got, I’d order another one.

I peered down at my arm, my gaze snagging on the US Navy-themed ink. Remembering my time back then wasn’t always easy. The weight of what I’d done sometimes kept me awake, but those memories? They were easier to live with than what happened a year ago.

When I turned my head, I caught a glimpse of the photo. My chest tightened, and I forced myself to look away. Once I’d found out where Roe was living, I’d tried to let it all go… the guilt mostly. Thinking about her didn’t help. Roe had moved on, gotten married. She didn’t need me to protect her, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to make sure she was always safe. Not like I could help her if shit ever hit the fan. I’d been fucking useless that night.

I pushed to my feet and paced the room. As I made my third or fourth round, I sat on the edge of the bed again with a sigh. The tension in my shoulders was back, and I knew no matter how tired I was, sleep would evade me. I rubbed at my chest, wishing the ache sitting right behind my sternum would ease.

The silence didn’t help. If anything, it made things worse. I could hear every creak of the floorboards as I moved. Even my sighs sounded loud in the otherwise empty space. Maybe I needed to get back to work. Sitting on my ass around the house hadn’t done me any favors. I still hadn’t worked up the nerve to hunt down a woman to scratch my itch. Did I even have an itch anymore? It should have been impossible for me to go this long without pussy. I hadn’t had sex since…

I buried my face in my hands and inhaled deeply, then slowly blew it out. Despite how much I didn’t want to admit it, guilt pressed in on me. The same guilt that kept me from wanting to find someone. The same guilt that ate at me every day.

I straightened and lifted my head. I’d been the victim of a crime. So had Roe. The club hadn’t blamed me, and they’d let me stay without any questions. Don’t know what I’d have done without them.

Would there ever come a time I could think of Roe without pain piercing my chest? If I’d known the drinks were drugged, that she wasn’t willing, I’d have never touched her. But I couldn’t change the past.

My phone rang, and I jumped, startled out of my thoughts. I reached for it, my hand hesitating. My jaw tightened when I spied Bear’s name on the screen. “Yeah?”

“Think you can join us for a drink at the clubhouse?” Bear’s gruff voice came through the speaker. “We’re going to shoot some pool, maybe play some cards.”

I didn’t say anything. Hell, I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, I could use a drink. On the other, what good was a beer if I couldn’t stop thinking about Roe?

“We’re worried about you. Don’t want to push, but you’ve been cooped up in that house for a long damn time. Might do you some good to hang out for a little while.” Bear’s tone softened, enough I knew he meant the words.

I ran a hand through my hair and rested it on the back of my neck. “You’re offering to babysit me?”

Bear snorted. “The fuck we are. I’m saying we need one more guy for a proper poker game and you’re it. If you want to drink a beer or shoot a game of pool while you’re at it, so be it.” He huffed out a breath. “It’s not babysitting. It’s called spending time with your brothers.”

“I don’t think I --”

“Don’t give me that. If you didn’t want company, you wouldn’t still be with us. You could have moved on. Instead, you stayed. That means you’re still one of us, and you need to get your ass over here. Don’t make me come find you.”

A smile tugged at my lips, but it felt rusty. How long since I’d genuinely smiled? “Fine. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

“Good. I’m going to set the table up. Don’t keep us waiting long,” he warned as he hung up.

I stared at Roe’s photo one more time. I kissed the tips of my fingers and pressed them to the glass. “Maybe someday you’ll be out of my head. Until then, I guess I’m just going through the motions.” I nodded to myself and headed to the clubhouse.

As I stepped through the doors, the sounds of my brothers’ laughter, clinking beer bottles, the scent of leather pulled me in. I paused just inside the entrance and took a deep breath. Biker life. My life. Why was I having a hard time reminding myself of that? I let my breath out slowly as I surveyed the room.

Some of the guys were shooting pool. The old, worn-down pool table had seen better days. Fox had found it at a garage sale and brought it here a few months ago. Now that we didn’t have women at the clubhouse, it was a nice addition. With all the families around here, things seemed to constantly change. For the better in all honesty.

Bear came toward me and lifted a beer in my direction. I hesitated and then reached out and took it. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a nod. Fangs walked over and slapped me on the back.

“Good to see you out and about, brother. You clean up all right.” He gave me a crooked grin. “Glad you joined us.”

I handled the beer, my fingers curling around the bottle. I took a few steps into the room before I froze. I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace.

It didn’t take long before everyone made it a point to come over and say something to me. My brothers didn’t blame me for what had happened, and they did their best to make sure I knew that every day. Even after Roe left. While that support should have made me feel better, it hadn’t. Because I blamed myself.