Heathens & Hold Ups (Book 2 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 11- Riggs

Stop fucking pacing. No response. I don't know why I bothered but at least I can say I tried. My feet have worn a U-shaped track in the living room's shag carpet that Jaxson will have erased once I can get my feet and my head on straight.

The light on the door is still red. Looking away for a few scant seconds isn't going to miraculously make the color change. It takes time to get here from her apartment. I know this, but can't help watching the door. Kace wanted to be the one to pick her up, said they had things to discuss, and I let him. I can't help questioning the decision. She might refuse to get in the car with him. Hell, I wouldn't blame her if that's what she decided to do. When he came home without her... It's probably the closest I ever came to wanting to truly do harm to my best friend. I should have sent Dario. I smack the palm of my hand to my head as if that'll help. No, he needs to stay home. He's been trying to hide it, but his shoulder's been giving him trouble again. I'm the last one he'd let notice and call him out.

As much shit as Kace has been giving me, he's right about one thing. I went too far with Barnes. I don't regret a damn thing I did, but I should have let Jax handle more. I was just so angry with him for the putting that look on her face, with myself for not seeing the signs with Kace. He told me, us that he didn't want her there. I should have sat him down long before he felt he had to do something about it.

"Want a drink?" Jax offers.

I turn slowly, aware I damn near jumped out of my skin. "Yeah. Whiskey, neat," I tell him.

His smirk and nod are all I need to know it was noticed. Sneaky fuck. Moments like this are when I really regret not having any easy hobbies. Kace has his guitar, Dario his computers and cartoons, and Jax has his knives and cleaning. All I had was ripped from me with a well-aimed explosive. My voice, my mind, my family. I'm a poor imitation of Riggs Landry. A ghost wearing his skin. One day the others will wise up and see that, but until then I'll soak up their enthusiasm for life and hope to be able to copy it.

Jax pushes the cold glass into my clenched hand and I reflexively wrap my hand around it. I allow him to sit me down on the couch as his obsessive need to clean has him take to the carpet with a brush to fluff it back up before hitting it with some backing soda and a vacuum.

"Thanks," I raise my glass to him before I take a sip. The whiskey rolls over the sphere of ice and hits my throat with a smooth, cold burn. I savor the taste like I have a thousand times before, but can't help myself from wishing it was warm and paired with lemon, hot sauce, and cayenne. I lick my lips as if I can conjure the taste from memory alone. It's not the taste I miss and I know it.

The beep of the door is followed quickly by the color changing from red to green. Jax looks up sharply before he resumes his cleaning.

I pause with my glass halfway to my mouth, my heart pounding like a kid on Christmas morning waiting for the okay to tear into a pile of carefully wrapped presents. But my internal feelings and the face Callie sees are two different people. So, I resume my actions and lean back into the couch as though I haven't been watching the door like a hawk and coming up with a million different ways things must have gone wrong. Pessimism and anxiety don't come naturally to me, but we've become close over the years. A stowaway souvenir from my time overseas.

Kace walks through the door first and catches my eyes. He's mouthing words at me and trying to communicate something important with his eyes but I might as well be blind for all the help it is. All I can focus on is her, trailing behind him on a mission. None of the shy, terrified woman who first walked through the door a year ago.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks. I can't decipher the mix of emotions playing across her face and in the soft wobble in her voice. Her stance is strong, but her head tilt and misty eyes betray her. I want to comfort her despite seemingly being the cause. My baby girl is upset and I'm floundering to come up with a solution. The words are trapped in my throat and it's too dry. I'm going to fuck this up, coughing and spluttering when she needs me to ease her worries.

I dart my eyes to Kace, focusing for a moment on the way his mouth moves slowly to form the words. "She knows."

I raise my eyebrows at him. That could cover about a million things and none of them tell me how to handle this moment. Clearing my throat sounds like grinding gears in desperate need of oil. I cringe. "Tell you what?" I venture.

"Shoes! Both of you," Jaxson interrupts, hissing from his spot hovering over the floor. "I just cleaned the floors," he mutters, attacking the carpet with renewed vigor.

A hurriedly whispered sorry and the both of them slip off their soiled shoes and place them by the door. I've never been more grateful for Jax's anal cleaning habits. Gives me a second to gather my wits about me with a Callie sized hurricane barreling down on me.

"I should have known when you asked me about that phrase. 'Heathens understanding God better than the rest of us'. Guess you have to know where the lines are to color outside them," she scoffs out a bitter chuckle. "The jeep too. The clues were right there in front of my face and I couldn't put them together for nothing." She shakes her head, baring her teeth in a sick mockery of a smile. "Did you two have a good laugh when you realized I had no clue?"

Dragging my hands across my face does not provide the internal reset I was hoping for. No moment of clarity, no right words suddenly reveal themselves. I've got to just be honest and hope for the best. "Never. I'll laugh with you, but never at you unless you're laughing too. I was just as stunned as you at how small the world is, bringing us together again. Terrified too that you would see our faces and realize just who we were. It would've ruined everything and I would have just let it. What else were my options baby girl?" I cough, a big hacking sound that rattles my chest. Too much talking, but she needs to hear this. "So no, we weren't laughing you. We were scared out of our minds hoping you didn't recognize us and thank God we were so lucky. As time went on and we got closer, there wasn't a good moment to tell you any different. So much has changed between then and now, for all three of us. We didn't know where to start and if we could trust you with the truth." I take another sip of my drink, swirling it around before I swallow it down and wait for her to pass judgement.

Her chocolate eyes search mine and I lay everything bare. She sighs and storms off toward the kitchen. I sink back into the couch, not realizing I'd been leaning forward, desperate to be closer to her. The strain in my shoulders is a rubber band ready to snap. I place my drink down to try and rub it out, rolling my neck around, but I'm still a ball of tension. She'll never listen to us now.

Her words to me yesterday in her apartment float around in my head. A comfort to me as I slept, they mock me now. Let me choke and burn your monsters for you. You deserve peace.

I deserve nothing. All I bring is pain. Kace hasn't seen his family in well over a year. He might not have been declared dead like myself, but is missing and presumed dead any better? Dario's body knows when it's going to rain before the rest of us and it's not from the smell of the air. Jaxson is the only one whose life I may have improved, I think ruefully. He was dying of boredom and would've ended up court martialed or in a psych ward somewhere eventually. Instead he's a fugitive, robbing banks with the rest of us. Not sure that's much better.

I know what Gran would say and I follow her advice when I can. A good man can do bad things as long as he keeps sight on why and who it hurts. A wise woman gone far too soon. Remembering why shores up my resolve to see this through. The Hamiltons will pay for what they have done to my family and its legacy.

"Here, take it," Calista shoves the warm mug toward me. "You sound like shit and I know you haven't been taking care of yourself right," she crosses her arms over her chest as she waits for me to take a sip.

The steam rising up from the mug has my eyes watering and a cough barking out of my chest. I flash a smile up at her before I take a gulp. I choke down the spicy concoction. "Thank you, Calista," I dip my head in thanks.

"You're welcome Sir," she curtsies exaggeratedly and I want to take a hand to her bratty little ass.