Reclaimed

Her small hand will reach up and touch my face, but I’ll miss it all, because even if it’s the most beautiful thing in the world, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the pain and I can’t bear to look at my daughter.

I’m a terrible mother.

CHAPTE R THREE

Nix

“Hey, boss man.” Jesse, my sergeant at arms, looks up from his position, bent over the pool table.

“Hey.” I nod, and walk straight to my office.

“What are you doing here?” he calls, but I’m so tightly wound up that I don’t stop to answer. Slamming the door shut, I plant my ass in my office chair and let out a shaky breath. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left her. My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, ready to see Kadence’s name flash. Instead, Holly’s name comes up.

“Yeah?” I answer, knowing this call is important.

“She called.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and ask what I needed to know. “She sound okay?”

“She didn’t sound too bad, but I could hear a little panic. You sure this is a good idea?”

Am I sure? Fuck, I’m not sure of anything these days. “I don’t know what else to do, Holly. I’ve tried talking to her. She just shuts down. She won’t go to the doctors. I’m not going to force her, but we can’t keep doing everything for her. Besides, Z is there and I trust that she will cope.” I believe those words leaving my mouth more than anything. Kadence would never do anything to hurt Low. Her fears and insecurities come from the idea of failing Low or not being the best for her. This fucked-up thinking she has is only amplified by the fact that Low just won’t settle.

“You should talk to her, Nix. Tell her what you need from her.”

“I’ve tried, Hol. She won’t listen. The only way I can help her is by showing her this isn’t normal.”

“We both know she’s aware it’s not normal, Nix.”

“Well, if you have a better idea, have at it!” I snap, taking my frustration out on her. I hear Sy in the background, and I know he’ll be pissed if I upset his woman. “Sorry, I’m just trying to deal.”

“It’s okay. You’re tired. I’m not just worried about her but about you, too.”

“Don’t worry about me. Let’s just focus on Kadence, yeah?” I ask, not needing a therapy session. I just need my fucking wife back.

“Mom and I are going to come over tomorrow. We can talk to her again then,” she says, giving me some small hope.

“Call Kadence’s mom. You’ll need reinforcements,” I add, knowing how bad she was today. Maybe if she hears if from all four of us together, she might listen to what we have to say.

“Right, okay, well, keep me posted,” she rushes, ending the conversation. I know she likes to think she has it under control, but Holly feels as helpless as I do.

“Yeah,” I reply before hanging up. I pocket my phone and rest my head on the desk. Jesus, who would have thought ten months ago this is where we would be?  Me, hanging in my fucking office, hiding from my wife.

Unease settles in my gut. Feeling disco

I fucking miss my wife.

***

“How you doin’, bud?” I ask Z as I walk through the door a few hours later. After I got off the phone with Holly, I lost myself in some paperwork. During the past seven weeks, I’ve neglected my duties in the club. Beau, my VP, has had to step up and take on my work while the rest of the boys have been dealing with their own shit: Sy with Inked Me, and Jesse with Liquid.

“Good,” Z mumbles, continuing into the kitchen. I follow behind him feeling some tension.

“You okay?” I put my keys and wallet down on the counter and watch him carefully.

“You told her thirty minutes,” he snaps, anger dancing in my son’s eyes.

He’s pissed.

“She okay?” I ask, not certain I want to know the answer.

“She’s hiding in the bathroom.” He places his dish in the sink, starting to wash it. I don’t respond. I just watch him.

If Kadence is in the bathroom, then he’s been looking after Low.

“Low okay?” I swallow past the anger and defeat that begins to grow. I hate this, fucking hate it for Z and Low, but hate it more for Kadence.

“I rocked her ‘til she fell asleep.”

“You’re a good big brother, Z.” I give him a smile. He doesn’t smile back; instead, he looks so confused.

“What’s happening, Dad?” he asks straight to the point, looking as unsure as I feel. I step forward and wrap my arms around him. Fuck, when did he get so grown up?

“We got some shit to get through, bud, but we’re go

“Is it something that I did?” his small voice asks. And the young man who just called me out for taking longer than I should have, seems so small; worried he’s done something to cause the darkness in our home.

“Bud, this isn’t about you. I promise. This is somethin’ that Kadence and I need to work through.”

“But I don’t want you to get a divorce.” His arms squeeze me on the last word. Fuck me. Divorce?

“Hey.” I pull back, looking him straight in his eyes. “That’s not ever go

“You okay?” I ask, watching him wipe his eyes. It’s moments like this, I want to shake her, show her what she is missing. The Kadence I knew would rather die than hurt our son, but now, he’s standing in front of me trying to hold his shit together and she wouldn’t give one fuck.

“Yeah, I’m go

After calming myself, I take the steps two at a time and go to find my wife. I’m at the end of my rope. Something has got to fucking give, something to get her to realize that what is happening can no longer go on.

“Kadence?” I knock on the bathroom door and wait for her to answer. “Kadence,” I call again when she doesn’t respond. I know when she is stressed, when things become too much for her, she likes to hide in here. The first time she checked out, I found her sitting in the empty tub, staring vacantly ahead. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening. I walked in late one day with Low screaming in her crib, a confused Z by her side trying to keep her calm, and Kadence sitting in an empty shower, ignoring us all. It took me thirty minutes for her to come back, but it was like a piece of her was missing

“Kadence, just fuckin’ respond.” I knock again, that small unease in my gut twitches, and something unsettling has my next knock turning into a bang when my arm reaches up again. She doesn’t respond and the dread that forms in the pit of my gut twists into something that I wasn’t prepared for.

“Open this fuckin’ door before I knock it down.” My fear comes out as anger, but each second she doesn’t respond, is another second that my doubt takes over. I step back, lift my leg, and in one forceful kick, I break past the lock; the door flying back in a loud thud. My eyes scan the bathroom in frantic need to know she is safe, that she hasn’t done something stupid, something I would never forgive her for. My body convulses when I see her sitting on the shower floor.

Her head comes up, surprise written all over her face as if my entry into the bathroom is a shock. I can see she has been crying, but the despair and anger ripping through my body doesn’t let me register what she needs. I’m too pissed off.