by Freya Barker
“Sonofabitch,” I mutter, narrowly reminding myself to keep it down so I don’t scare Finn again, but my hands clench in fists on the table.
My eyes find Lisa, who mouths, “Take a breath.”
I follow her suggestion and take a few deep ones, forcing my hands to relax.
“I’m sorry, Brick,” Luna says gently. “I realize this must be upsetting.”
I bark out a strangled laugh.
Upsetting is an understatement. Someone killed my baby girl, could’ve killed my grandson.
I’m downright murderous.
Lisa
It’s visible, the moment when Brick’s grief turns from pain to rage.
I don’t blame him. I didn’t know his daughter, but I already love her little boy. If the person who ran them off the road were standing in front of me, I’d tear the son of a bitch apart with my bare hands. Instead, I gently bounce her baby to sleep on my shoulder.
“So now what?” Brick wants to know.
“Kelsey worked for Safe Loads, a security contractor specializing in the safe escort of military transports. She was the executive assistant and her friend works in the accounting department. Because of the sensitive nature of that type of business, the FBI is taking over the investigation.”
“Are you saying it’s because of her work Kelsey’s dead?”
Luna is clearly uncomfortable with Brick’s question and reluctant to answer.
“This is the part I fucking hate,” she admits. “It’s not our office in charge of the investigation but the Denver office, which…” she seems to struggle to find a word before finally settling on, “…limits what I’m able to share. What I can tell you is it’s a possibility her death is linked to her job.”
“So that’s a yes,” Brick stubbornly persists, pacing back and forth.
“Brother…” Ouray interjects, but Luna takes over.
“That’s a ‘possibly’ and that’s all I can give you for now. We’re dealing with a military contractor, I’m sure you can see why that would be like rattling a powder keg. We’ve gotta tread carefully or otherwise this investigation could get shut down and we’ll never know what happened.”
“I need answers,” Brick bites off. “She called me, Luna. Me. Last thing she said eight years ago was to leave her the hell be. I did, yet she called me asking for help, and now she’s dead.”
“Trust my wife, brother,” Ouray reasons. “You know she won’t rest until she finds you answers.”
Brick nods and drops his head. Figuring it’s time to cut through the thick tension, I change the subject.
“Do you have contact information for Kelsey’s friend?” I ask Luna, carefully putting a sleeping Finn back in his seat. “Maybe we can give her a call. She may want to be here for Kelsey’s funeral.”
“Yeah, sure. I can text you her information when I get back to the office.”
I sidle up to Brick and put a hand on his back.
“Maybe she can help fill in some of the blanks ‘bout the woman Kelsey grew into,” I suggest carefully, even though Brick’s head stays down.
“She’s welcome to stay here,” Ouray volunteers before tagging his wife by the hand. “Need a few minutes before you go, Sprite.”
The two of them walk off to his office and I step in front of Brick, facing him. He slowly lifts his head, eyes glassy, and I put my hands on his cheeks.
“Coming out of my skin,” he mumbles.
“I know.”
“I wanna hurt someone.”
“I know that too.”
I remember the blind rage that makes you want somebody, anybody, to pay for the life you’ve lost. Instead you’re left with all these emotions, no clear direction, and it tears you up inside.
“Guess you would,” he agrees, folding me in his arms and burying his face in my hair. “Be lost without you, Lisa,” I hear him whisper.
“Just hang on to me, honey. I’ll walk you through.”
Not sure how long we stand like that but I don’t let go until he straightens up.
“What do I do?”
I try for a smile. “You put one foot in front of the other until it comes natural again.”
“Hey, where is everybody?”
Trunk comes walking into the clubhouse and I give Brick a little nudge.
“I’m just about to get goin’ in the kitchen. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
I go up on my toes to reach Brick’s cheek for a kiss and make my way to the kitchen. I’ll let those two figure it out.
After getting dinner started, it’s about time to pick up the kids from school. When I walk through the clubhouse, there’s no sign of Brick, Trunk, or the baby, but Ouray sits at the bar, talking to Nosh.
“He’s with the baby in Trunk’s office,” Ouray volunteers.
“Good.” I nod. “Gonna go grab the kids, in case he comes looking,” I announce. “There’s formula in the fridge if the little one is hungry.”
Ouray lifts his chin in acknowledgement.
_______________
As usual, Kiara is full of beans, excited because she got a star from the teacher for her artwork. Ezrah is quiet, observant, and I make a mental note to take some time alone with the boy—figure out what he’s got going on in his head—but he surprises me when he speaks up.
“Mr. Brick gonna be there tonight?”
I glance in the rearview mirror. The boy is looking right back at me.
“Course he is. Where else would he be?”
“Wasn’t there this mornin’.”
Yes, very observant. I didn’t raise a fool.
“He wanted to get an early start at the garage. First day back.”
It’s stretching the truth, but I’m not about to tell my ten-year-old grandson his nana took liberties she shouldn’t have.
I knew it the moment he shot out of bed. I hadn’t really been thinking, just gave in to the moment, still half asleep.
“He livin’ with us for good now?”
“I want Mr. Brick and Finn to stay forever!” Kiara announces.
Not a surprise since my baby gives her heart easily and freely. She’s blissfully unaware. Her brother is far more cautious. Has more reason to be, given what he’s seen in his young life. I know he likes the man, but he’s also very protective of his sister and his nana.
It’s not the definitive answer either of my children is waiting for, but it’s the best I can do for the moment.
“Mr. Brick and that sweet baby are welcome to stay as long as they want.”
CHAPTER 9
Brick
I DON’T KNOW why I’m nervous, but my palms are sweaty as I stand in the window, watching my truck approach.
I would’ve picked the woman up myself, but Lisa suggested it might be an emotional first meeting and thought it might be easier for both of us to meet at her place. She’s at the clubhouse and is keeping the kids there until after dinner to give me the space.
Wapi, who drove my truck to the airport, jumps out and hustles to the passenger side door to help Sophia out. She’s young, thirties I would guess, pretty, short brown hair, and legs that appear to have drawn the attention of young Wapi. I’ll have to tell him paws off.
My young brother gets back in the truck and heads for the clubhouse, leaving the girl standing out front.
I startle her when I pull the door open and her eyes take me in. I’m trying to imagine what she sees looking at me. An aging, gray, scruffy biker is likely not what she expected. Although, I did ditch my do-rag.
“Sophia?”
She nods, starts walking toward me, and doesn’t stop until she’s hugging me. I have no option but to put my arms around her and pat her back.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, wiping at her face as she takes a step back. “It’s just, you’re exactly like she described.”
Talk about a punch in the gut. Guess the surprise is on me, I didn’t expect Kelsey had told anyone about my existence, let alone describe me.
“Come in,” I
mumble, inviting her to lead the way. “Would you like a coffee? Something else?”
“Coffee would be great.” I walk ahead into the kitchen and hear her following me. “What a lovely place.”
“It’s Lisa’s,” I tell her. “You’ll meet her later.”
While I get busy making a pot of coffee, I try to come up with a way to get the conversation started. It feels strange; I know so little of my daughter I’m embarrassed to ask.
But I shouldn’t have worried; Sophia apparently doesn’t have that problem.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Paver.”
“Thank you, and you for yours.”
I pour the water in the machine before I collect myself enough to turn around. Sophia is dabbing a tissue at her eyes.
I’m about to open my mouth when the baby announces himself over the baby monitor.
“Oh my God, is that Finn?”
She’s already off her stool, but I’m not ready to invite her upstairs into Lisa’s bedroom.
“I’ll go fetch him, it’s almost time for his bottle.”
I rush upstairs and find Finn with his eyes wide open, his arms waving, and little legs kicking. Every time he does that just by looking at me, he cements himself a little farther in my heart.
Making quick work of his diaper, I carry him down the stairs where Sophia is waiting. She has her hands pressed against her mouth.
“Why don’t you hold him while I get his bottle ready?”
She reaches out immediately and I hand him over.
“Hey, Finny. Hey, my boy. Look at you.” I listen to her coo at him while I get going on his bottle. “He looks so healthy. I’ve been so worried.”
“He was lucky.” I turn to look at her. She’s taken a seat at the table and is holding the baby up in front of her face. He’s grabbing at her hair and she doesn’t seem to mind. “You’re good with him.”
She glances at me, a sad little smile on her face.
“I was around a lot.” She settles him on her lap, now giving her attention to me. “I was with Kelsey when he was born,” she continues softly.
“Where was the father in all this?”
I can’t seem to help the harsh tone, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot and the more I think, the angrier I get. There must’ve been someone in her life. What I know of my daughter, the way she stood up to me, I’m convinced she would’ve told whoever the father is.
“Out of the picture.”
“Who is it?”
Her eyes never waver and I take what she tells me as the truth.
“She never told me that, only that it was complicated and a mistake.”
Finn starts fussing, probably hungry, and I turn to see if his formula is warm enough.
“You wanna feed him?”
“Please.”
I walk over and hand her the bottle, and the way she settles the baby in the crook of her arm and entices him to take the nipple proves it’s not the first time she’s done this.
“What do you take in your coffee?”
“A little cream if you have it.”
I fix us both a cup and sit at the table across from her, observing Finn, his eyes on her face and his hands on the bottle, looking comfortable. I’m trying to imagine Kelsey in Sophia’s place, holding her child.
Suddenly a thought occurs to me.
“Do you have pictures of her? Kelsey?”
A big smile spreads over her face.
“I do. Lots. Well, lots since this little peanut was born but a few from before too. I’ll grab my phone when he’s done with his bottle.”
After Finn falls asleep, we put him in his car seat on the table so we can watch him, and we spend the rest of the afternoon looking at Sophia’s pictures and sharing memories of my daughter. I’m surprised how much time has passed by the time Lisa and the kids walk in.
“Mr. Brick, guess what?”
Of course Kiara walks through the door already chattering, and I can barely get up from the table when her little body slams against my legs.
“Child, mind your manners,” Lisa says, walking in behind Ezrah, who is eyeing Sophia with caution.
Lisa herself seems a little apprehensive, so I hoist Kiara on my hip and approach her, bending down for a quick kiss hello before I introduce her and the kids to the younger woman.
“Guess what?”
Kiara, still perched on my hip, puts her hand on my face to get my attention.
“What?”
“Nana says I can wear my pretty dress tomorrow.”
“That’s perfect, Princess.”
I kiss her head and put her back on her own feet.
“You haven’t eaten?” Lisa comments as she walks into the kitchen, darting a glance my way, but Sophia answers.
“I’m afraid that’s my fault; I started showing pictures of Kels and every single one came with a story.”
Lisa smiles warmly at the woman.
“Oh, I love pictures,” Kiara pipes up. “Can I see?”
“Sure,” Sophia smiles at her.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing them either,” Lisa declares, “but let me get you something to eat first.”
“You guys look at pictures. I’ll fix us something.” Lisa looks at me as if she sees water burning. “What? You don’t think I can whip up some grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Her mouth twitches. “Good to know.”
“I’d actually love a grilled cheese,” Sophia announces.
“I’ll eat one.”
That comes from Ezrah, who’s been quiet so far, and earns him a sharp look from his nana.
“You just had dinner,” she points out.
“So? I got room.”
In the end, I’m in the kitchen, making a stack of sandwiches, while everyone else is clustered around the table—Finn still sleeping in his seat on top—looking at pictures of my daughter.
It almost feels like she’s here with us.
Lisa
The service held in the funeral home chapel was simple.
Brick had requested the casket be closed, but a large craft board with a collection of pictures stood on an easel beside it.
At some point between last night—after Brick walked Sophia over to the clubhouse—and the service, she had put this together with some of the brothers. It meant the world to Brick, who hugged her tightly.
The entire club had come out. Every single member. Brick insisted the kids and I sit by him in the front row, Finn on his lap. Right before the service started, I peeked over my shoulder and was surprised to see a bunch of other familiar faces mixed in with the Arrow’s Edge club. The chapel was almost full to capacity.
The funeral director welcomes those gathered, and then invites anyone who wants to say a few words up to the front.
Ouray is first. He talks about the brotherhood and the value Brick has added over the past years. He mentions regret they never had a chance to know his daughter, but vows her son, Finn, will always have a home with the club.
I can tell his words mean the world to Brick, who holds on to my hand like a lifeline.
Then Sophia surprises me by walking to the front and sharing a few anecdotes of Kelsey, giving everyone a glimpse of the woman she was. She shares what a loving mother she was to her baby son, and the best of friends to her. Finally she turns to Brick and I can feel him stiffen beside me.
“Kelsey lived with regrets, especially since she became pregnant. She spoke of you often, wishing for a time when she could share her son with her father. She’d be so happy to see what I’m looking at. At peace to know Finn will be loved.”
I want to bet there’s not a dry eye in the chapel, but the only person I’m concerned with is Brick. Sophia walks up and I quickly take the baby from him as he stands to hug her.
After a few closing words by the funeral director, we follow the hearse to the cemetery. There is nothing official planned for after, but Ouray mentioned last night Lissie organized a lunch at The Brewer’s, a pub and grill owned by
the club, following the cemetery.
It’s early November and the temperatures have dropped over the last days, so I make sure the kids are bundled up before we make the trek to the open grave. There we form a circle around the casket.
I’ve learned Brick isn’t a particularly religious person, and to be honest, neither am I anymore. Still, there are beautiful words of redemption, which never fail to move me, I’d mentioned to Ouray I wanted to share. Not just for Kelsey, but for her father as well.
A few snowflakes start coming down when Ouray gives me a nod.
It’s been many years since I’ve last sung, but the words are engrained in my soul. I fill my lungs, tighten my hold on Brick’s hand, and close my eyes.
“Ah-mazing Grace, how sweet…”
By the time I start the second verse many voices have joined me.
With the first snow of the year softly falling around us, we put Brick’s daughter to rest.
_______________
“Why are we going to the airport?”
Kiara is tucked in the back seat between the car seat and Ezrah.
“Sophia has to catch her flight home,” I answer, twisting my head so I can see her.
“She isn’t coming for lunch?”
“No, baby, but she says she’s coming back to visit soon.”
Wapi, who is driving Sophia, turns into the airport parking lot ahead of us, and pulls up at the curb. Brick parks his truck behind them and we all get out to say our goodbyes.
“Send me pictures?” Sophia asks, tears in her eyes.
“You bet, and you come back soon, you hear?” I tell her.
She nods and turns to Brick.
“Thank you so much for including me.”
He pulls her close for a hug. “Stay in touch,” he says gruffly. “You’re always welcome here.”
“Thank you.”
She heads toward Wapi, who is waiting on the sidewalk with her things, and we watch her give him a hug as well before disappearing into the terminal.
The Brewer’s door is marked ‘closed for private function,’ but it’s still packed when we walk in. Lunch is a regular rowdy club affair, but cut short for us when Finn starts crying and can’t be comforted.
“You should take him home,” Lissie suggests. “Too much going on around him, too much noise, too many impressions, he needs some quiet time.”
