Give Me Grace (Devil's Right Hand MC #5)

Chapter 7

A/N: Hey babes! Thank you for all of the love Give Me Grace has gotten so far and all of the different opinion that have been shared. I love hearing how everyone feels and what their theories are! Please keep them coming! This chapter is pretty short, but my work schedule is calmly down slightly this week, so I'm hoping to get two more chapter up soon. Thank you for your patience! Enjoy!

Blade's POV
Present Day, August 11th, 2022

I've always felt free on the back of my motorcycle. When life got too heavy, I found my escape on the back of my bike until I found my peace in her.

Now, I have neither option as a true escape because nothing is strong enough to distract me from the shit storm I have to deal with on a daily basis.

The shit storm she threw me into.

True to his word, Smoke had all four leads in our shop last night. In that moment, I had hope. But after twelve hours of endless interrogation and one death, I don't think those fucking cockroaches know anything. I think they all worked for Taco meaning we are still no farther up the ladder than we were two weeks ago.

It means we know nothing.
It means I'm continuing to fail my daughter.

Maybe it's my obligation to Chrissy that got me on my bike headed toward the house that I used to call home. Maybe I'm doing this because Chrissy asked me to bring Grace back and not because I feel any real obligation to her.

Or maybe it's because I laid awake all fucking night and pictured her alone in that huge house- a house she wanted to fill to the brim with children but we never had the chance- and I damn near cried at that mental image.

All I know is that every time I catch a glimpse of that folder in my office, the folder that holds the papers that could end this marriage, I pile something on top of it. I filed for those papers in a fit of rage after watching Chrissy try to claw her flesh from her bones in a fit of paranoia during her withdraws, but now I can't even look at them without getting nauseous.

I don't fucking know what to do, now. I don't know what to think. Which is why I needed my daughter to push me into going to see my wife.

I don't know anything right now.

You should know, though, she's still your wife, one side of me says.

But that's your daughter, and she almost got her killed. Remember that? Remember how she lied to you? The other side of me taunts.

Lately it feels like I'm split down the middle. Like there's a devil on my right shoulder that tells me I should forgive Grace and reminds me of my commitment to her. And then there's a devil on my left shoulder reminding me of all the pain she caused my club, my daughter, and me.

It's like I'm at war with what I know I should do and what I promised to do twenty years ago.

Maybe that's the real reason I'm on my bike, headed to the same small suburb that's been home for over fifteen years. That's the reason I coast up the paved driveway and stare at the house that I thought would make all of our dreams come true.

I thought this goddamn house was magical but it didn't fix our problems, sometimes the empty bedrooms only magnified them.

Ignoring our problems lead us to this place. Not talking about all we lost lead to Grace making the worst mistake of our lives. So ignoring this any longer will only make it worse.

As president of DRH, I have to face my problems head on. I just never thought my wife would become a problem I had to face.

The floor creaks below my boots as I step on a loose board on the front porch. I've been meaning to fix this damn thing for two years, but I never got to it. Most days, I thought fixing it would be more trouble that it's worth. Besides, a squeaky board isn't that big of a deal, anyway.