by Hazel Parker
I laughed a little. Laughing was obviously hard right now with everything that had happened, but I supposed it was a great sign that I could laugh.
“Listen,” I said. “I just…I just need you to spend the night. I just need someone I can trust by my side tonight. Can you do that?”
Jack didn’t hesitate. He immediately killed his bike, hopped off, and slung his arm around me.
“I’ll stay by your side until you tell me to leave,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere, Lilly. That’s my promise to you.”
I believed it unequivocally. And he proved it, following me wherever I went into the house, right up to the point where I curled into bed in my t-shirt and underwear. I didn’t expect to fall asleep so easily for everything that I had gone through, but with Jack close to me, protecting me, I was out before midnight even hit.
* * *
When I woke up, I looked up to see an arm over me, holding a cell phone, sending a text.
I tried my best not to read it, but curiosity got the better of me. Jack was texting Marcel, and from what I could see of the message above, Marcel had asked Jack to come by the shop so that he could bid farewell to the other Savage Saints.
“Am staying with Lilly right now. She needs my help. I’ll come by if she wants to be alone, but otherwise, I’m with her.”
As soon as he sent it, he locked the phone, tossed it somewhere soft behind him—it barely made a muffled sound when it landed wherever it did—and wrapped his arm around me. He had no idea that I had read it, which made that all the sweeter; it wasn’t done for appearances or to win me back. He genuinely meant it.
I tried to fall back asleep, figuring Jack needed the rest as much as I did, but ten minutes spent in his burly arms told me that there was no drifting back off. I’d gotten all the sleep I would for this night, and if more came, it wouldn’t come until I was alone or so tired that there was nothing that could keep me alert.
I stretched out and gently rolled away from Jack, whose arm collapsed onto the bed, his eyes still closed. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and cleaned my face, all the while still admiring the good fortune that I had had.
I’d always tried to make my characters the type that could withstand extreme duress and danger, but it was easy to imagine it when your inspirations were characters like Rey from Star Wars or any of the Marvel superheroes. When your inspiration was real life, it was that much more amazing to realize people really could handle the stress and nightmares thrown their way. I wasn’t about to say that I was on the same level as a soldier or a policewoman—no way, no how.
But it was nice to know that I had survived the ordeal and emerged with my sanity still intact. There would be days where I would remember what had happened in painful detail, and those were going to be dreadful days. But here I was, in the flesh, with everything intact. That had to count for something.
I walked back into the bedroom to see Jack finally up, resting his head on his hand. He waved me over, and I happily complied. As soon as I got under the covers, he pulled me in for a gentle kiss before pulling me in for a tight hug.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“Better than you’d think,” I said as I kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks in large part to you.”
“Oh, well—”
“No, no, don’t qualify it,” I said with a smile. “Just accept it. You saved me, Jack. That counts for something.”
Jack smiled, but I could tell his smile was a little forced.
“What’s wrong?”
He looked up at the ceiling, let out a loud exhale, and still remained silent for several moments before he finally spoke.
“I just can’t help but wonder if there’s something I could have done to save Kyle,” he said.
He let the words settle. He didn’t ramble and add anything more. What he had said was more than enough to make the point. I knew he was quietly hoping that I would say something to ease his pain, something to put his soul at rest a little bit. I was confident in my writing skills, but my speaking skills were more than a little lackluster.
“You know, I’m not sure what Kyle told you, but I knew Kyle when he was a child, too,” I said. “I helped him a lot in those days. I prevented bullies from picking on him. I protected him. And even with all of that…he still turned into the man that did what he did last night.”
I swallowed.
“Sometimes, Jack, men just have demons that nothing can drive out. We like to believe that therapy, religion, or love can drive those things away, and in most people, they can. But for some people, for some very unlucky people, nothing is ever going to help them. And I hate to say it, but I think Kyle was one of those people. You did all that you could. I know you did, because I know you, Jack. You’re a good man.”
Jack didn’t quite look like he believed me, although it wasn’t outright disagreement. It almost felt like he just didn’t want to admit that I might be right, as if that would unburden him from something that he didn’t deserve to be free from.
“If I prevented Kyle from being bullied, supported him, and was kind to him, and he still turned into the man he did? I’m no saint, but Kyle didn’t have a completely bad life. He had people supporting him. And he still…well, he still did what he did. You have to forgive yourself for what happened, Jack. You have to realize that you are a good man.”
“I know,” he said. “And I know that you are a great woman.”
“Oh, stop.”
“No, seriously,” Jack said, rolling over to face me. “If we’re going to talk about how Kyle was who he was at heart, fine, but then we have to look at the flip side—we have to look at the people who really are good at heart, the people who can fight their demons and not get beaten down. You, Lilly, are absolutely one of those people. You are someone who has stared a lot of shit down, especially in the last few weeks, and you’re still a sweet person.”
“Aww, Kyle,” I said, feeling emotion surge in me.
“You know, before everything started happening here, I would see my brother and some of the other officers in the club get their dream girls. And I always cheered for them, and I always supported them. But I also always wondered when that would happen to me. And I’m so sorry that you got put through the wringer by being with me…but I think I can safely say that because of you, I’m a better man. And I hope, Lilly, that now that we have all the bullshit out of the way, now that things are going to settle down, we can give this a try again.”
The way my body responded—with warmth, excitement, and almost giddiness—told me the answer. I could sit there and pretend to ponder all of my options, or I could just go with what I knew the answer was—yes.
“I think that would be wonderful, Jack,” I said.
Boy, you should have seen how his eyes lit up, how the smile went from hesitant to full-borne, how he leaned forward and kissed me and hugged me like he hadn’t seen me in years. And while that obviously wasn’t literally true, to some extent, he hadn’t seen the unrestrained side of me in some time. Really, ever since the night we first had sex, we both had largely resisted being ourselves and giving fully of ourselves.
But with all of the extenuating circumstances gone and removed, we could finally be at peace.
And then, as our kissing grew deeper and deeper, what few clothes we had came off, and we started to make love.
I didn’t choose my words by accident—the physical act was having sex, yes, but the intimacy that we both felt, staring into each other’s eyes as he worked inside of me, was what defined the next several minutes. The physical was great, don’t get me wrong—he got me to orgasm twice.
But when I looked into his eyes, when I saw that joyful smile, when I felt my heart swell with happiness, I knew that I had found my one. I had found, as my book would say, not the fire of the city, but the wings to lift my soul to new heights. No metaphor could truly do justice to how I felt about Jack, but I could say, in as simple as possible terms, that he and I were going
to last forever.
Bold? Yes. Did it jinx it? Maybe. Did I feel apologetic about that? Not in the slightest.
Jack was mine. I was Jack’s.
And as the lovemaking climaxed with him on top of me, kissing me, moaning into my mouth as he unloaded his seed into my wet sex, I knew that whatever came of this moment—or any like it—the two of us were going to be side by side until the very end.
It was the moments after coitus, though, the ones in which he gently kissed me, the ones in which he held my head close to him, the ones in which his body remained pressed into mine, that were the ones that I would remember for a long, long time.
“You know,” Jack said, his words sounding like that of a dull droll, a man who barely had his wits about him. “I know you’re not supposed to say this right after sex.”
“Hmm?”
I know what’s coming. It’s going to be wonderful.
“But damnit, I just need to say it. I love you, Lilly.”
Yes, it was just as wonderful as I had expected. The surge of comfort coursing through me, the joy emanating from me, the certainty of the feeling…it was real.
“There’s never a bad time to say that, Jack,” I said, putting my hands on his face. “Because it will allow me to say something back to you. I love you too, Jack.”
Jack could only respond with a kiss. It was just as well—trying to find words that could top what was just said was all but impossible.
“You know, that should be something in your next book,” Jack said. “Create a romance novel!”
“Oh, please, nothing can top this,” I said with a laugh. “And, oh, shit!”
“Huh?”
“My laptop. It’s back at that house. It’s probably destroyed. It’s—”
Jack held up a finger. He reached over the side of the bed, grabbed his phone, and held it up to me. It was a message from Marcel, stating that he had my laptop whenever I wanted to come and get it.
“Goddamnit, Jack, how are you so perfect?” I said as I moved his phone aside to kiss him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I do know this. You are perfection, Lilly.”
“No,” I said.
I promise this will be the last one-up.
“We are perfection.”
Jack smiled, pulled me in for a kiss, and held me tight. We were, indeed, perfection. This moment was perfection.
Our lives, now, despite all that we had been through, despite all the troubles that would inevitably crop up, despite all of the collateral from the past week, had become perfect.
We had the one thing we needed. Each other.
Epilogue
One Year Later
In the basement of a church, just minutes before the ceremony many of us had been waiting for, I sat on a chair, quietly reading the paperback version of Fires of the City. Although Lilly had insisted that she didn’t want to know what I thought of it, fearing that I would find an error, there was not a single bad thing I had to say about the book. I didn’t just say that because she was my girlfriend and the girl I planned on marrying, either.
It was genuinely good. Like much in our lives now, things were genuinely good. We’d gone through an awful lot of hell and lost a lot of good people, but in the process, all of us had gained something much more valuable than any club, any paycheck, any job could provide.
Love.
“…for it was not the spirit of the city, but the fires that kept it alive. And it was not the fires of the city that allowed it to thrive, but the love of the citizens that gave it that status.”
I closed the book, leaned back in the chair, and smiled. It may have been the end of the book, but it was far from the end of Lilly and me. In fact, I dared to say that there would be no end at all in sight. I wouldn’t say anything today, but as soon as things wound down…
The door busted open. I swung my eyes around and saw Marcel standing there in his white tuxedo, looking every bit the part of the groom.
“Brother!” he said. “You gotta help me with this bowtie, man. I swear it’s constricting me.”
“Cuz you started gorging on all of Christine’s cooking, you fool,” I said, letting out the bellow of a laughter that had come to define so much of the past twelve months. “Alright, one second.”
I stood, placing Fires of the City onto the chair next to me as I went over and helped. Marcel, of course, didn’t need any help; he was just a nervous wreck for his wedding day.
“You better get used to this,” I said.
“To what? Dressing up fancy?”
“Uh-huh,” I said as I pretended to fiddle with his bowtie, knowing full well nothing needed to be done. “Niner and Fitz are already engaged, you know. I’m the only one that hasn’t asked the question.”
“When are you planning on doing so?”
Jeez, way to jinx it, I thought with a laugh.
“Soon enough. Soon enough.”
“When is soon enough, brother?”
I shrugged.
“Next few weeks or so. I want to surprise Lilly.”
“Do you?” he said, a curious expression on his face. “Then I know just when you need to pop the question.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t hate me for it, but here’s what you should do.”
* * *
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the first time ever, I am happy to introduce…Marcel and Christine Stone!”
The crowd roared with approval as my brother and his new wife made their way out to the dance floor, making some silly dance moves as they made their way to the middle. My arm went around Lilly as the DJ then announced that it was time for their first dance—moving along to “My Best Friend” by Tim McGraw. We watched in silence, giving Marcel and Christine all the attention they deserved.
No one, and I mean no one, had done a better job of carrying this club through the aftermath of the previous year than Marcel had. Having lost Uncle and the club members that we had could have cast a pall on the club, but as soon as Kyle was gone and as soon as we had escaped scrutiny from the state, he was the one that rallied morale. He was the one that shifted the emphasis from a bacchanalian, hedonistic lifestyle into one that made a difference in the community.
Of course, in my peripheral vision, I could see a few more people who had made a difference in helping Marcel—Niner and Carrie; Fitz and Amelia; and all of the other Savage Saints who had flown up to Brooklyn for the wedding. Not every member attended, but Richard, Trace, and their wives, along with Dom, Splitter, BK, and Pork and Mama, had made the trip up.
The Savage Saints were not just a club. They were a brotherhood. And even when that brotherhood fought, even when that brotherhood had almost all of the continental United States separating them, there was little doubt that we would fight for each other and spread the name—as, in fact, we already had, having launched three satellite clubs in Atlanta, Charlotte, and Boston, respectively, with more on the way.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give it up for their first song together,” the DJ said, drawing polite applause. “But now, Marcel and Christine would like to invite everyone else to partake in their marriage by joining them for this number.”
And then, just as Marcel had promised me in the groom’s waiting area, “Cupid Shuffle” came on. Naturally, for a bunch of dudes and their girlfriends and wives who had drank too much alcohol, this was the perfect song to distract everyone. Lilly tried to pull me away, but it was time for something different.
“Come here,” I said. “Marcel’s giving me permission to do this.”
“To do what?”
“To just talk,” I said. “I have something to say.”
Ironically, despite those words, we walked in silence until we got someplace a little more private. I took her outside of the church, down the street, and to a nearby park where there was much less noise. It was only a walk of about five minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.
“What’s up?” Lilly said, though there was a hint o
f suspicion in her voice.
“Lilly Robertson,” I said. “When we first started out, we went through things so crazy that they defy definition. How we got through what we did would be too unbelievable for one of your fantasy stories, but one thing that is not a fantasy and is not unrealistic is the love that you and I have shared over this past year. You are, unequivocally, the best thing to ever happen to me. You have stuck with me through some dark times, some good times, and some mundane times, and now, it is time for me to return the favor by promising to stick with you for the rest of my life.”
I knelt down, reaching into my right pocket. Lilly put her hands to her mouth and started to gasp and sob. Her eyes welled, and I had to fight to control my tears long enough to say the magic words.
“Lilly,” I said, my voice starting to shake—but not enough to stop me. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes! Yes!” she said, the tears bursting forth in full force.
I rose, letting my tears stream out of my eyes, and kissed her. I pulled her close and squeezed. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to hold her forever.
And now, it wasn’t just a want. It was a promise.
“Oh, hell, yes,” I said, laughing and crying. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I can’t either,” she said, finally pulling back so she could have some space to breathe. “Wow. Wow. Just…wow. Jack. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said, moving in for a kiss. “But now, we gotta head back to the wedding. Marcel’s dying to know if this happened!”
“He knew?” she said, but she seemed more amused and surprised than anything negative.
“Well, yeah, why do you think I was able to pull you away for a bit?” I said, taking her hand. “Come on. He’s going to be so pumped.”
I took Lilly back, but this time, instead of nervous silence, there was just unending chatter about how happy both of us were. Both of us skipped, laughed, cried, and did just about everything else in between. I had nervously anticipated this moment for some time, but I was glad Marcel had pushed me to do it now—otherwise, the anticipation might just have killed me.
