Page 8 of Claiming Veronica
The sun was setting, throwing long shadows across the pavement as I walked toward the spot we’d agreed on. Neutral ground. Always neutral. I wasn’t ready to step into his world entirely, and he wasn’t about to barge into mine. Not yet. There was too much history, too much-unfinished business between us.
I kicked a rock out of my way just like Veronica had done, watching it bounce down the street before I glanced up, seeing Pike’s figure leaning against his Harley in the distance. He always showed up first, always waiting for me. Maybe it was his way of trying to make up for lost time. Perhaps it was guilt. Either way, I wouldn’t give him any points for it.
As I got closer, I noticed the tension in his posture. His jaw was clenched, eyes scanning the street as if he expected trouble. Always on guard, that one. It made sense, given the world he lived in. He was the president of the Cobra MC, and that life didn’t leave room for softness. But it was different now, having a brother who had come back from the dead. He’d also contended in the last few months with having bodies dropping around him all carved up. That had brought me endless pleasure. I never would have admitted to Victor that I’d been happy about what he’d done, but secretly … yeah … ecstatic.
“You’re late,” he grumbled when I stopped a few feet away.
“Didn’t know we were keeping track,” I shot back, shoving my hands into my pockets. “If there’s a scorecard, we know who is losing.” He flinched, and I felt a vicious satisfaction.
Pike sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Eli, I don’t want this to be harder than it already is.”
“Then don’t make it harder.”
That shut him up for a second. I’d noticed that he didn’t know what to say to me now — probably thought I’d be more grateful or more compliant. But I wasn’t some kid and wouldn’tplay by his rules, not that I ever did. By all accounts, I was always a little broken and a pain in the ass, but then the people who told me those things weren’t exactly reliable.
We stood there for a minute in silence, the tension between us almost palpable. It was like we were both waiting for the other to say something that could fix everything, but there were no magic words. There was only this — the broken pieces we were trying to force back together.
Finally, Pike spoke, his voice low. “I didn’t know, Eli. I thought... I thought you were gone.”
“I know,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie. I did know. But knowing didn’t make it better. “But I wasn’t gone.” Facts were facts. I was stuck there with a child molester, and that was that.
He nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. For a moment, I thought he would say something more, maybe try to dig deeper into the mess of our past. But then he shook his head and looked up at me again. Silent.
“So, why are we here?” I asked, crossing my arms. “You’ve got your club and Natasha. What do you need me for?” My lips compressed in a hard line. I shouldn’t have said that and wanted to pull the words back immediately. He hadn’t asked me to stay, and I made it sound like he did.This gave him an opening to tell me to go, which I didn’t want to do. I had some things to straighten out, but I was invested now, whether it complicated things or not — I was here now.
The mention of Natasha had an immediate effect on him. His eyes sharpened, and his posture straightened. Pike wasn’t the type to let his emotions show, but I could tell by how he looked when she was brought up — she was his weak spot. It was almost funny, considering how tough he acted all the time.
“I don’t need anything from you,” he said, his voice gruff. “But I want to know you. You’re my brother.”
I scoffed and couldn’t help but say, “Brother? Now, you want to play the family card?” There was no reason to needle him or to bring up all this shit, but for some reason, I couldn’t help but to spew it all over the place every time I saw him.
Pike’s jaw tightened, but to his credit, he didn’t snap back. Instead, he just stared at me, frustration simmering in his eyes. “We’re blood, Eli. That doesn’t go away, no matter how much shit’s happened.”
“Yeah, well, blood didn’t do me much good, did it?” I snapped. “You think that matters now?”
He took a step toward me, his eyes hardening. “I know it matters.”
I didn’t flinch, but I wanted to. There was a part of me — a part I hated — that wanted to believe him. That wanted to think maybe he was right. But I wasn’t that kid anymore, hoping for someone to save me.
I’d learned to save myself.
I shrugged, breaking the tension. “Whatever. I didn’t come here for this.” I tried to focus on why I came instead of past bullshit that shouldn’t matter.
Pike narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Then what did you come here for?”
“Information.”
“What kind of information?”
“Veronica.” The name rolled off my tongue, and I watched Pike’s expression shift, his protective instincts immediately kicking in.
“What about her?” His voice was low, dangerous.
I could see it in his eyes, the warning that came with messing with someone he cared about. But I wasn’t here to hurt her. No, I was here for something else.
“You don’t need to get all worked up,” I said, holding my hands in mock surrender. “I just want to know more about her.”
Pike’s gaze sharpened. “Why?”