Page 40 of Pyro
“You guys are different.”
“How so?” King prodded. “I’m forty-three years old and about to marry a woman who just turned twenty-five. Hell, Gunner just turned thirty-nine and Sarah will be twenty this fall. Ellie was fourteen years your junior when you married her. All of us are old enough to be their fathers, but that didn’t stop us from claiming the loves of our lives.”
“Skylar Rose is not the love of my life!”
“Ellie’s dead,” I heard Scribe whisper from behind me.
Whipping around, I clenched my fist.
I wasn’t having this conversation with him again.
Not with any of them.
My private life was just that.
Private.
Scribe slowly got to his feet, anger radiating off him in waves. “For the last five years, we’ve all given you space where Ellie was concerned. Myself more than the others because I believe everyone has the right to grieve in their own way, but when your grief hurts others, well, that I won’t allow. Skylar may be young in age, but she is an old soul. She isn’t like other women, and you fucking know it. We all know it. If you can’t get your head out of your ass long enough to see what you are throwing away, I will claim her myself.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I had Scribe up against the wall.
“You stay the fuck away from her!”
Scribe smirked. “Can’t have it both ways, brother. Either you want Skylar or you don’t.”
“I don’t want her. I want her to leave me alone,” I growled, pushing off him, knowing damn well I was lying to them and myself. I didn’t know what it was I exactly wanted, but I fucking knew I didn’t want Scribe anywhere near her. Skylar was better than him. Better than me. She deserved everything life could give her. Not some washed up man who pined away for a woman who was never coming back.
“Then I claim Skylar,” Scribe stated firmly.
“I said she’s off fucking limits, asshole,” I growled, taking a step towards him.
“I second,” King declared loudly as my brothers all nodded and agreed.
I couldn’t believe it.
They were voting against me.
Turning to King, I glared. “Why?”
My brother stood. “I love you, Chase, but I will not allow you to hurt someone because you can’t let go of the past. If you want to mourn Ellie for the rest of your life, that is your choice, but this club will protect Skylar from you. Until Skylar decides what she wants to do or moves out, I think you should stay at your place.”
“You’re kicking me out!” I roared.
“No,” King shook his head. “You still have a seat at the table and I expect you to attend all club meetings and such, but I can’t have you here as long as Skylar is under this roof.”
“Skylar can have my apartment,” Bailey stated firmly, walking towards the door only to stop, standing before me with contempt and disgust in her eyes. “I don’t want her anywhere near you. Scribe, get the van ready in the morning. You can help me get Skylar the fuck away from this chicken shit.”
“And we’ll help,” Priest said as my brothers all got to their feet, following Bailey as she left, leaving me alone with King and Gunner. Turning to my brothers, I watched as Gunner got to his feet and silently left the room without looking at me.
When he closed the door behind him, King took a seat and sighed. “I want you to see a grief counselor, Chase. This isn’t a request. It’s now an order.”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone.”
“You need to talk to someone. It’s been five years since Ellie died and you act as if it happened yesterday. It’s not healthy. Until you speak to someone, I am limiting your access to the clubhouse and the brothers. It’s time to move on and start living again. Go pack your shit. I will not grant you access to the club until I see a note from an actual licensed therapist.”
“Why are you doing this?”
King roared, slamming his hands on his desk. “Because someone has to! If you won’t protect yourself, then I will. I love you. You are my brother. My baby brother. If dad was alive, he would kick your ass for what you’ve been doing to Skylar. It ends now. Get the hell out of my sight until you have your head on straight.”