“I know what it’s like, all right? To cut yourself off. To build a wall ˈround yourself so none of the pain, the grief, or the crippling hurt can get through. But it’s cracking now, ain’t it? Cuz of Halle. Cuz you’re finally ready to take a leap with her. But she ain’t gonna settle just for what’s seeping through ˈem cracks, Smiter. You gotta let down ˈem walls. And, yeah, when you do, all that pain and grief you been holding back’s gonna come flooding out. Gotta get that bad shit out, before you let Halle through, or the past’s gonna poison the future you’re looking to build with her.” He squeezes my shoulder. “You gotta finally let Mia go. You gotta say a proper goodbye. Know you never went to her funeral, never saw her grave. Never had real closure. That’s why I brought you here.”
The hard glare I’d been firing at him melts away at his words. “Fuck,” I murmur, my fingers tightening ˈround the map. “You think just seeing her grave is gonna… jar me enough to suddenly let it all go? That something you learned in your therapy sessions?”
“Think it could help you, yeah. By facing it, seeing the reality of it up close.”
“Runner, I—” I start, shaking my head.
“Worth a try, ain’t it? Plus, I ain’t never known you to pussy-out from nothing before.” Folding his arms across his chest and staring me down, he challenges, “This gonna be a first?”
Damn bastard. Going for my ego, my pride. “You know me too well,” I grumble.
“Look, Smiter, the way I see it, you get in there and do this, or you ain’t got a hope in hell of making things right with Halle. She ain’t gonna live in a dead woman’s shadow and it ain’t fair to expect her to.”
The harsh brutality of his no-holds-barred words have me bristling.
But they’re also just what I need to get my feet moving, to pull myself outta the shocked haze I’d been consumed by the second I’d seen that cemetery behind us.
Drawing in a breath, I clutch the map tightly to my chest, ready to cross the road and step into the one place I’ve been avoiding for so long.
“Thanks, Runner,” I say, glancing at him over my shoulder. “I—”
“Save it,” he says. “Focus on what you gotta do.”
I nod and turn back to face the cemetery.
Here goes nothing.
***
Beloved sister.
Selfless friend.
An angel among demons.
I stand at her grave, taking in the words etched into her white marble gravestone. There’s tons of fresh flowers. I smile. Means she’s visited a lot. It don’t take a genius to figure out by who. The same person I’m sure chose the wording on her stone. An angel among demons. That line gives it away.
She’d been an innocent, never brought into club life, while everybody ˈround her had been reveling in it, living the down ˈnˈ dirty life of the Savage Slayers MC. As much as her brother tried to keep her away from the life, he’d failed. Just as I had. Although, in the end, her life outside the club’s what killed her. Getting mixed up with Frankie. By the time I’d met her, Frankie was well into his obsession with her. I’d just realized way too late, or I woulda taken him out.
Too fucking little, too late.
I sink to my knees, hating that I don’t got no flowers, nothing to offer.
As soon as I’m level with her headstone, her name jumps out at me. It’s like I’m winded, gotta force myself to remember to keep breathing, cuz it don’t seem to be coming naturally. Something’s clogging my throat, pulling at my insides in a real painful way. It’s like a physical blow, being hit head-on by some mammoth truck. Moisture fills my eyes and it’s so weird to me, it takes me time to realize they’re tears. Emotion seeping through. My walls cracking open wider. All the way, I’m guessing, from the way I’m struggling to hold it together.
Coming in here and following the map to her gravesite, part of me figured ˈem walls were still strong enough to hold up. But the other part that’s wanting me to fight for the only thing that’s mattered to me in so long is pushing harder, making me feel what I been avoiding. All so I can heal. For Halle. To be ready for her. Worthy of her.
Before I know it, everything I been holding back for years comes bursting to the surface. I can’t stop it. I spill my guts out, talking to her gravestone, the pain of holding it in worse than letting it out now.
“Baby, I’m sorry I ain’t been by. Be easy to blame it on the club rivalry between Slayers and Thorns, but it’s been more than that. Couldn’t face it. Not laying eyes on your grave had me thinking I could keep you alive in my mind, in my memories. Weren’t no end then. I just… I couldn’t face losing you.”
I hang my head. “I’m also sorry I couldn’t stop this, couldn’t protect you. I weren’t enough. I swear to you, you’ll get the justice you deserve. It’s coming real soon. I swear it.”
Taking a breath, I rub the back of my neck. “I met someone. Strange thing is, she ain’t nothing like you. Her name’s Halle. She busts my balls all the fucking time. I care ˈbout her. She a lot to me. But I been screwing it all up, cuz I couldn’t get over you. Carried the loss of you with me too long, all I’ve know is pain. ˈTil she came into my life. I don’t wanna bring that to her door no more. I gotta let you go, baby.” I reach forward and rub the top of her headstone. “Came here to say goodbye. To put your memory to rest.” Emotion clogs my throat again and I roughly wipe away the moisture trickling down my face now with the backs of my hands. “I loved you so much. Part of me always will. But you’re gone now and I’m still here. I get it now, Mia. When you died, I stopped living. And now… I gotta start living again.”
It takes me a long time to get it together, before I get back on my feet. I press a kiss to her headstone. “Sleep well, Mia.”
As I turn to go, I’m real surprised by how much lighter I feel. I’ve finally said all the words I’ve been burying for so long. The hurt is still there, cuz there ain’t no quick cure to this. But it’s a huge step. The pain feels… less.
I get how I can’t let the past hold me prisoner no more. Not when there’s a future waiting for me. A light in all the fucking darkness I been living in for so long. Halle.
As I step back onto the main pathway, I slam right into somebody.
“Runner?” I choke, only just catching my balance.
“No.”
I get a hold of myself and look into a familiar face.
Fuck.
Marco Russo.
Mia’s big brother.
He looks like a fucking drill sergeant with his strict, blonde crew-cut, his tactical pants and muscle tee combo. Doing a quick sweep, I note the piece hidden under the right side of his leather cut.
I resist reaching for mine and don’t react at all. Sidestepping him, I walk back down the path heading outta the cemetery. We ain’t never met and I ain’t in club colors, so he ain’t got no reason to suspect me, to know who I am. Sure, I was just coming right outta the row of gravestones where his sister is buried, but I coulda been here to see anybody, as far as he knows. Just gotta play it off.
“Wait.”
His booted footsteps come my way and he rounds on me, coming to stand in front of me.
“Yeah?” I say, coolly.
I gotta be real careful here. Can’t get into no trouble, or Ax is gonna have mine and Runner’s heads. We don’t got authorization to be nowhere near a rival club’s territory. I’m in enough shit already. Runner’s going the straight and narrow these days and I don’t wanna ruin the new rep he’s tryinˈ to build. Don’t wanna get him suspended neither, cuz he’s got a family to support. He’s just tryinˈ to help me out. Don’t want him paying for being a real good brother to me.
And that’s why, as I catch sight of Runner ˈbout to come through the gates, ready to back me up, I signal him to stand down. He hesitates for a second, but hangs back, trusting me.
I watch Marco look over his shoulder, noticing Runner. “Got a good brother there,” he tells me. “Willing to risk pulling a piece right on the edge of Slayers’ territo
ry to protect you.”
Brother? He knows I’m club?
“He ain’t gonna cause no trouble and neither am I. Just passing through. Riding.”
Marco folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah? Seems like you’re here visiting my sister.”
Show’s over. “You know who I am.”
“Daz “Smiter” Forbes. Sergeant-at-Arms for Black Thorns.” He grins, relishing catching me off guard. “Once upon a time, you were also my sister’s fiancé.”
“Just here for her. That’s all.”
He taps his finger to his chin and muses, “You know, you covered your tracks well. But I’m really good. Knew all about you and my little sister.”
“Why’d you let it be? Slayers and Thorns ain’t exactly the best of friends.”
“Never saw her happier than when she was with you.”
His comment catches me off guard in a major way.
“You treated her like a princess.” He smiles. “Woulda given you my blessing on the engagement, if you’d asked me. I get why you didn’t. Club rivalries and all that.”
Frowning, I ask, “You still feel that way after what went down? Was my job to protect her.”
“Was both our jobs.” He growls, “Wanna know what I feel ˈbout what went down, ˈbout my baby sister dying that night? I feel like ripping Frankie Newman in two. It’s all I been feeling, since we laid her to rest. I ain’t never been able to get close enough. The fucker went to ground for so long.” His eyes flash. “Now, I’m hearing he’s back.”
“Sin contacted you?”
Nodding, he confirms, “Yeah. Told me Frankie fucked Thorns over. He has your hands tied, so you can’t do the deed yourselves.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we’re gonna take care of it.” Pain flashes in his eyes. “You wanna be there, I can make it happen, make an exception for a Thorns member for one night. Maybe it’ll settle the storm inside you, which I’m betting is the same storm that’s been eating at me for too many years now. Watch as I take the scumbag’s worthless life, just like he took Mia’s.”
What he’s offering here is a major deal. Letting a member of a rival club be part of a coordinated strike organized by his club? It’s… unheard of.
I hold out my hand.
He glances down, smiles, and takes it in a steel grip.
“Thanks,” I say, as we shake firmly.
“Our clubs might be enemies, but we ain’t never gonna be, all right? She loved you real hard, Smiter. She wouldn’t want us being enemies.”
“Appreciate that.”
“Now, let us track the bastard and finally end him. Hopefully, we can both move on then.” His eyes dart to the gravestones. “Maybe that’s what you came here to do? Let go?” He sighs heavily. “I been tryinˈ to do the same. Thing with me is, I can’t let her murder go unpunished. Now I got given this chance to finally take that bastard out, I swear to you, he’s as good as dead, Smiter. All right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you wanna be there, just let me know.”
He pulls his cell out and we exchange numbers.
With a slap on the back, he tells me, “Be seeing you, brother.”
He takes off to visit Mia’s grave and I make my way over to Runner by the gates.
Feel like I’m in some sorta trance, as I walk over there. Like only part of my mind’s on what’s going on ˈround me, the here and now. The rest of it’s spinning like crazy, tryinˈ to absorb everything that’s gone down, since we got here.
Temptation’s nagging at me something fierce with the chance Marco’s offered me. I figured it was off the table. After what Frankie pulled, I thought I’d lost my chance to see him get what he deserves, to see vengeance done. But now Marco’s offered it to me on a platter.
Fuck me. Could I really get closure, let everything go with Mia, if I turned away from the chance to watch her murderer get his? Is coming here enough, or do I need to see that son of a bitch die?
Ain’t sure.
Need more time to process all this shit.
“Smiter?”
“Yeah?” I answer, snapping outta my thoughts.
“Been calling you. You been walking over here like a zombie, not hearing a damn word. You all right?”
“Just thinking.”
“What’s the deal with that Slayers member?”
“He’s Mia’s brother.”
“I didn’t see no fists flying, so what went down?”
“We’re good.”
“For real? With a member of a rival club whose sister you were fucking?”
“We were engaged, asshole. He offered me an olive branch outta respect to Mia.”
“Huh. Well… good. Kept us from a fucking fight.”
“Yeah.”
“That it?”
I don’t wanna tell him ˈbout what Marco offered me. Even though Runner’s tryinˈ to help me right now, Ax still sent him in as babysitter, so something that major would get back to Prez. Runner wouldn’t have much choice in reporting it. Can’t risk that. If I decide to take Marco’s offer, I don’t want nobody standing in my way, especially not my own brothers. Best they don’t know.
“That’s it,” I tell Runner.
He cocks an eyebrow. Perceptive bastard. “You sure?”
“Just as sure as I am that I wanna get the fuck outta here now.”
I push through the gates, walking quick, with Runner jogging to catch up with me.
Being here’s done a number on me. Gotta get away now.
Chapter 19
~Halle~
Whoa. The bar is spinning.
My vision is compromised. I’m having trouble walking, because I’m so lightheaded.
I might have overdone it a little with my alcohol consumption tonight.
I just wanted to take a break from the brutal reality that’s been my life lately.
I needed to try to forget the fact that I’ve been forced from my home and business by some maniac’s sick agenda. Not only is my business still in jeopardy, but I’m unable to meet with any more potential investors, because of this Frank Newman threat. I’m also effectively homeless, hiding out under Black Thorns MC protection. And, the one man I’d wanted for so long has let me down again. Everything is a bleak mess.
Self-pity isn’t usually my thing. I stand tall and fight.
But, tonight, I just needed to wallow. One night. Just to get it all out of my system. Just a brief reprieve from thinking about it. Drowning my sorrows in several glasses of whiskey is some much-needed solace. Something to take away the hurt for a little while.
I glance around the bar, straining through my hazy vision. It was packed when I came down earlier. Now it’s dead. There are just two older guys around, nursing their beers in the corner. The strange thing was, when it’d been busy earlier, not a single biker had bothered me. I’d caught several of them eyeing me in my black leather skirt and low-cut white blouse. I’m used to drawing the attention of men. I’ve learned well how to use it over the years. But, I’ve never had a bunch of guys look and not approach before. Really fucking odd. The only explanation I can think of is that they’ve been ordered to stay away from me. Maybe Ax put out the order when he dropped me off here earlier, after I helped him to do some major damage control with the press for the club.
Well, fine. At least I’ve had some peace and quiet tonight.
Although, now the subduing effect of the whiskey has morphed to a restless feeling.
I need to move, do something.
As I struggle to my feet, I recall a bunch of the guys heading out of the room, down the corridor. They’d said something about a special birthday present waiting for one of them. Hmm. It seems like something worth checking out. Why not?
I make my way through the bar area, giving a drunken wave to the two older guys in the corner.
“Best get to bed, love,” one of them calls out.
“I’m fine. All good here,” I say, only just managing to dodge a stool that seems to h
ave come out of nowhere.
The second I start heading down the corridor, raucous cat calls, whistling, and hearty laughter catches my attention. A pounding bass beat reverberates all around me. Dance music. My favorite. I can feel my body itching to move to the rhythm as I approach the source of the commotion. Even as drunk as I am, I can still put on a hell of a show. It’s ingrained in me. I’ve spent so long in the erotic dancing business. I used to work as a dancer for years. I took dance lessons later on, once I was in a position to afford them. I trained all the dancers at my club. Yeah, it’s basically instinctual to me at this point.
I reach for the door, finding it open. Stepping inside, I take a look at what all the fuss is about.
Wow. Now, I know what all the catcalls and sounds of male satisfaction were about.
The room is packed to the brim with leather-clad bikers. The overpowering stench of smoke and beer is almost enough to suffocate me. There are a row of chairs arranged in a circle and several club whores are draped over the guys’ laps. Some are being tended to right out in the open for everyone to see. The birthday boy, the one with a party hat strapped to his head, actually has two redheads fawning all over him. But, his attention is drawn where everybody else’s is. To the table doubling as a stage and the scantily-clad woman putting on a show.
Calling it a show is overly generous.
She’s not moving to the beat.
She doesn’t have a routine.
Her moves consist of her thrusting and swaying her hips, then cupping her fake boobs every few moments.
Either this girl is brand-new, or she works at one of those strip clubs that merely hires women for their bodies, not giving a fuck about their dancing chops. Sleazy clubs that are brutally exploitative.
She looks nervous, like she knows she’s not up to par.
She’s wearing a golden skirt that barely covers her ass, offering glimpses of her thong when she bends over even a little. A golden bra is visible beneath a white tank. I note the glittery black jacket she’s already stripped off. She’s not very far along with her show. Given how long the guys have been back here, it’s pretty clear she’s drawing it out, hesitating. Yeah, she’s really nervous.
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