by Sarah Osborn
“Mom.” Abi walked into the tiny bedroom. “Can we have cookies?” She frowned. “Are you crying?”
“Yeah.” Beth wiped her eyes. “I'm okay, love. Just feeling a little sad today.”
“Cuz dad died?” Abi climbed onto the bed and crossed her legs. “It's okay, Mom. He's in heaven with Amy. He'll be okay.” She frowned. “He really loves Amy doesn't he?”
“Yeah.”
“More than us? Is that why he went to heaven? So he could be with her?” Abi leaned over and picked up a photograph from the dresser next to the bed. “I think he loves her best of all. He'd look real sad when he looked at her picture, an' sometimes when he took us to bed, he'd tell us stories about her.” Beth's heart shattered as her eldest smiled. “He said she was an angel in heaven. I think he really wanted to be with her, so it's good that he's there, even though I am kinda sad.”
“Your dad loved you kids all the same, Abs.”
“So why did he go to be with her?”
“I guess he didn't have much choice.” Beth forced herself to smile. “I'm sure he'd've stayed with us if he could.”
“Mom.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I have a cuddle?”
“Sure.” Beth sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her. “It'll be okay, Abs. And your dad loves you very much.”
Abi sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I wish he didn't die, though.”
“Yeah. So do I.”
Abi sat up as the sound of a Harley filtered through the window. “Oh. That's Uncle Mac. He called but I guess I forgot to tell you he was coming.”
Shit. “That's okay, love. “ Beth kissed her daughter on the top of the head. “C'mon, let's go down and let him in.”
~ oOo ~
She'd known that when Mac had turned up to look at the books at the car lot, he'd find out about Joe, and that once he did, the whole club would know. There was a very good reason she hadn't said anything; once the club knew, they'd take over. Her plans for a quiet family funeral were quickly overridden, and Sophia's little house was full of patches and their old ladies. She sighed and took the old lady's hand as more people arrived. “It's okay. I've packed our bags. We'll be out of here in the morning.”
“I'm not sure I want an empty house, Beth. At least when it's like this, I don't have time to think.” Sophia smiled. “It doesn't feel real. Every time I hear one of those goddamned bikes, I think it's Joe.”
“I know.” Beth squeezed her hand. “They're going to release his body. Vince is talking about escorting him back to Bay View. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I know the police are saying that it looks like a mugging – his wallet and cell were taken – but I know it's club related. Who in their right mind would try to mug Joe? And they found his drivers license. I know he always kept that in his wallet. Whoever did this wanted him to be found.”
“I know you're angry with the club, Beth. But it was Joe's life.”
“You're not angry?”
“Maybe I will be in the future, but no, I'm not. No parent should ever have to bury their kid – you know that – but he lived his life how he wanted to live it. We don't know for sure whether the club had anything to do with Joe's death, and I'm too old to spend the rest of my days feeling bitter. It hurts, and I'm so sad for you and the kids, but it feels like I've been preparing for this ever since he climbed onto his first Harley.” Sophia watched as Gloria pulled a casserole from the oven. “You're strong and young, and you have the support of the club, whether you want it or not. Let them help – they're hurting, too. Take care of your family, and when the time is right, find love again. That is what Joe would want.”
SIXTY-TWO
Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of what looked like the hundreds of bikes that followed Joe's body as it was transported back to Bay View. A campsite had been set up about a mile out of town to accommodate the visitors, and as the casket was carried into the clubhouse, patches, old ladies and friends of the club milled around outside.
This wasn't what Beth had wanted, but Vince had insisted that Joe was a long-standing and much loved member, and this was a fitting send-off. To her, though, it felt like a circus, and there would be no chance for her to say her goodbyes in private before the funeral the following day. Even in death, for Joe, the club had come first.
With a sigh, she slowly walked towards her car. There were too many strangers, and although she knew she was expected to be there, her kids and Sophia needed her more. As she walked, she scanned the crowd until her eyes fell on Samson, still astride his bike. As Joe's closest friend, she'd expected him to be one of those who'd carried him to the clubhouse, but he hadn't even been among those who led the procession. He looked up and, as their eyes met, dismounted.
It had been three weeks since that policewoman had knocked on the door, and in that time, she'd hardly shed a tear, but as he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her, the floodgates opened. Beth hadn't been aware that she'd been waiting for him to come, but as she sobbed against his chest, she realized that it was only now that she was in his arms that she dared let herself fall apart. Samson pressed his lips against the top of her head. “I'm so sorry, Beth.” She felt his breath catch, and her sobbing intensified as it dawned on her that he was hurting as much as she was. “I can't make this right. I'm so sorry.”
She closed her eyes and allowed her grief to wash over her. “Will you come back to the house with me? I... I know you should be here, but there are too many people.”
He hesitated, for just a moment, then pushed her away from him and, with his thumb, wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Sure. Whatever you need.” Leaving his bike, he followed her to her car and took her keys.
~ oOo ~
Shit. He couldn't do this. Samson stood in Tiny and Beth's living room and watched the kids as they watched TV with Sophia. How could he comfort them knowing that he was, in part at least, responsible for their dad's death? If he'd just gone with Tiny. If he hadn't pulled his gun, none of this would have happened. Why hadn't he just taken off as soon as he got word that Tiny was coming? It was his own stupid arrogance that had made him believe that he'd be able to talk his brother around. His arrogance that had set the whole goddamned ball rolling in the first place.
“Hey, Samson.” Luke slid off the sofa and trotted towards him. “Are you staying with us now?”
“Sure, for a while.” He forced himself to smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Everyone's sad, though, cuz Dad went to be with Amy. Will you stay till he gets back?”
Oh fuck. “Your dad won't be coming back, Lukey.”
Luke sighed. “That's what Mom said. But Dad always comes back after he's been away. Can't you go get him?”
“No, sorry.” Samson crouched down and laid his hand on his shoulder. “That's why everyone's sad. Cuz your dad can't come back.”
“Are you sad?”
“Yeah.”
“An' Emma? Is she sad?”
Emma was in pieces. “Yeah, she's real sad.”
“Is she here?” Luke was already losing interest in the conversation, and his eyes were being dragged back to the cartoons.
“No, she couldn't come this time, but she'll come and see you real soon.”
“'Kay. We're watching Scooby Doo. You wanna watch it with us?”
“Sure.” As soon as Samson sat on the sofa, Alice climbed onto his lap and snuggled against his chest. The poor kid had no idea what was going on, she was too young, and had been surrounded by people who had no idea how to communicate with her. He ran his hand across her hair and glanced over at Sophia, who smiled sadly. “I wish I knew what to say.”
“Not much you can say, Samson. All the words in the world aren't going to make this better.” She sat forward in her chair. “This must be hard for you, too. You and Joe were always close. You've been a good friend to him and Beth over the years.”
A good friend would never have had let this happen. He closed his eye
s. “I'll take care of Beth and the kids.” He opened them and tried to smile at Tiny's mom. “You, too.”
“The police seem to think it was a robbery that got out of hand.” Sophia's kept her voice low and her eyes bored into his. “Do you think they're right?”
He shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Best not to rock any boats, Sophia.” He shifted in an attempt to make himself more comfortable. “No good will come of it.”
~ oOo ~
Coming to Bay View was a risk, but Samson really had no choice. The only people who knew what happened to Tiny were him, Bugs and the Psycho Twins, who were currently hunting for a still-absent Fox. He figured that Vince would have little chance to bring a vote during the funeral, and as far as he and the chapter were concerned he'd had no idea that Tiny had been coming for him. He guessed that they'd have their suspicions, but no proof. If he'd stayed away it would have been like an admission of guilt.
It was killing him, though. He'd spent the day before the funeral with Beth and the kids, and every time her big brown eyes looked into his, the guilt tore him apart. She'd asked why Emma hadn't come, and he'd been vague, telling her that his girl was in a bad place right now, and things weren't great between them. Samson wasn't sure whether she bought his explanation, but it really was the best he could come up with, and it wasn't entirely a lie. Emma was racked with guilt and grief, and while he loved her, and accepted that what had happened was an accident, he was angry. He'd told her to stay away, and she'd disobeyed him. And as a result, Tiny was dead.
Everyone had expected him to offer himself as a pallbearer, but he had no right to carry his brother, so he'd made the excuse that his back was still too painful after two days on the road. He'd managed to avoid the clubhouse entirely so far, but Beth wanted to spend some time with Tiny before his final journey, and it was unreasonable to expect her to go alone. So, resisting the urge to jump back on his bike and head for the hills, he took her arm and, reluctantly, led her inside.
He was acutely aware of the eyes on him as they crossed the small, crowded space to an even smaller storeroom that had been hurriedly cleared for Tiny's casket. Shit, he deserved better than that. Why the hell couldn't Vince agree that he could've been laid out in the funeral home? Samson understood that the chapel at the top of the narrow stairs wasn't an option, but a fucking storeroom? Did the man not have any consideration for Beth's feelings? Swallowing the lump in his throat, he opened the door and nodded to the patches congregated there. “How about you all clear out an' give Beth some privacy?”
Wordlessly, they filed out and, as he turned to follow them, Beth touched his arm. “Stay. Please.”
“You sure?”
She nodded and, taking a deep breath, stepped inside.
Fuck. He couldn't do this. Tiny's hard lines had softened in death. The perma-scowl that he'd always associated with his brother was gone, and his skin was pale, despite his tan. Beth touched her man's face, then turned and looked up at Samson. “It doesn't look like him.”
“No, it doesn't.” He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to quell the tears that threatened to fall. “He looks kinda peaceful, though.”
“I told the kids he was with Amy now. Luke doesn't really understand, he thinks he'll come back, and Imi and Alice...” She sobbed. “They're too young. They'll forget him.”
“Then we'll have to do everything we can to keep his memory alive.” He laid his hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Family was everything to Tiny. We just have to remind them just how much he loved them.”
“Why'd he have to die, Samson?”
Because Vince got a sick kick out of sending my closest friend to finish me, and my fearless old lady got in the way. “I dunno. I'm sorry, Beth.” Shit, he really couldn't do this. “I... I'm gonna leave you alone for awhile.”
“No, please stay. I need you here, Samson.”
~ oOo ~
Beth knew Samson really didn't want to be there, but she couldn't do this on her own. She needed his strength, and although his own grief was palpable, without him to lean on, she was afraid she wouldn't get through the next few days.
She gazed down at Tiny and tried to push down the anger that was bubbling inside her. She didn't even know who she was angry at. Everyone and no one, she guessed. She was angry at Tiny for dying and leaving her alone. At the club – it didn't matter whether he'd died for the Freaks or at the hands of some random crackhead – if they hadn't sent him away, he'd still be alive. At herself, for falling in love with a Freak.
Samson put his arms around her and pulled her to him. “I dunno what to do, Beth.”
“Just be here to hold me together. I can't fall apart, Samson.”
His cell buzzed, and he pulled away. “Shit.” He looked at the screen and frowned. “I've gotta take this.” Samson didn't leave the room, but stepped back and turned away. “Yeah? Okay.... I dunno.... There's a bar near there, the something grill... Yeah, that's the one. There's a girl that works there – Rose or Rosa, about thirty-five, black hair, a flower inked on her wrist. Talk to her. If he was there, he would've checked in with her... Yeah, I will... No, but I need you to act fast. Call me or Bugs as soon as you have something... Okay, thanks. I owe you, brother. Bye.” He hung up. “Sorry, club shit.”
Beth felt her anger pique, and again, pushed it down. “It's okay, I know how it is.”
His smile was sad as he reached out and touched her arm. “It's okay to be pissed, Beth. You don't have to bottle that shit with me.” He laughed. “Emma would be up in my face right now.”
“Are you two are going to be okay?” She was angry with Emma, too. She should be here, not hiding away, feeling sorry for herself.
“Yeah. You know how it is with us. Things are... difficult right now, but we'll figure it out. We always do.”
Beth sighed and looked down at Joe. “I can probably count the number of fights we've had on one hand. Maybe if I'd have been more like her, things would be different.” She blinked away the tears that were blurring her vision. “But the truth is, I was always too much of a coward to stand up to him.”
“Tiny would never have hurt you.”
“I don't think you believe that, any more than I do. He stuck around because I made it easy for him. He never loved me like you love Emma.”
Samson frowned. “He loved you, Beth.”
“Yeah, in his own way. But if I hadn't compromised, or tiptoed around him when he was in a bad place...” Beth swallowed. “Joe was honest and loyal, but he never, ever bent.”
“No.” He ran his hand across his head. “He didn't. It was his biggest strength and his biggest failing.”
~ oOo ~
He hadn't seen Vince as he'd led Beth through the clubhouse to see Tiny, but Samson wasn't surprised that he was waiting for him as they left. He nodded at the President but kept his hand on Beth's arm, telling himself he wasn't hiding behind a woman.
Vince pulled himself up to his full height, which was several inches short of Samson. “A word, brother?”
“Not a good time, Prez. Can it wait?”
“No, Samson. It can't.” Vince looked down at Beth. “He won't be long. You want someone to go home with you?”
“I'll be fine.” Beth seemed to shrink a little. “I'll see you later, Samson.”
“Of course.” He kissed her cheek, then straightened up with a sigh. “Lead the way, Vince.”
While he had no great love for Bay View, Samson loved the room they used for church. There was something truly outlaw about it. Maybe it was the fact that they'd always used this too-small old farmhouse as the clubhouse, and it had always had a makeshift feel to it. This room was no different, but the big double-headed viper on the wall, with its peeling paint, and the old dining table, with the cigarette burns and stains from hundreds of glasses and oily hands, reeked of history. This was where it had all begun, with a handful of disillusioned, disenfranchised vets with a love of bikes
and a need to belong. They'd come a long way since then, and none of the original members were still alive, but despite their differences, they were still brothers. And they were still fucking outlaws, living on the fringes and answering to no one.
Without waiting to be asked, he sat down. “What's this about, Vince? Beth needs me.”
“You got any idea why Tiny was in Tacoma?”
“No. Why should I?”
“No reason. Just wondered, with you two being so close and all.” Vince leaned on his elbows. “After the funeral, I want you here.”
Samson kept his expression neutral. “Gonna tell me why?”
“Just got a few things we need to discuss. Would be best if we talked sooner rather than later.”
Samson pushed his chair back and pushed himself to his feet. “Do I have a choice?” Without waiting for an answer, he rounded the table and opened the door.
Vince looked up. “I know you killed Moretti.”
“No, you don't. And I don't know that you started this war with the Serpiente.” Samson grinned. “If you're gonna throw accusations around, you'd better make sure you got something to back 'em up, brother. Not sure your word is worth as much as you think it is.”
“Just be here after the funeral.”
SIXTY-THREE
It was a beautiful California morning. Beth stood and watched as the casket was carried to the hearse. The sun shouldn't have been shining, the sky shouldn't have been blue and the birds sure as shit shouldn't have been singing.
She hadn't wanted this. She'd wanted to say goodbye to Tiny in private, not surrounded by strangers. But he was a Freak, and this is how it was done, so she accepted hugs and condolences from people she hardly knew and swore to herself that once this was done, she'd never set foot in a clubhouse ever again.
