“Suck it up, buttercup. Brittany and Tank are in real pain. They need you.” Jessica sighed as she stood up and walked toward my bedroom door. “Stitch’s service is at eleven o’clock Saturday, at the Valley View Christian Church on Geiger Grade Road. You better be there. If not for Brittany, then at least go for yourself. You’ll see that no one blames you. No one.”
I could hear the depth of concern in her voice, so I finally lifted my head and nodded. “Can I ask you something? Before you go?”
“Sure, Nic. What is it?”
“How do you do it? You and Zag have a baby together. Aren’t you worried that one of these days, it’ll be him?”
Because that was really what lay at the heart of my self-imposed exile. I did feel a huge amount of guilt about my part in Stitch’s death. But until now I’d never considered that one day it could be Tank. Could I live with that? What kind of life would we have together if I spent every moment afraid he’d be gone?
Jessica gave a little half smile as she leaned against my old desk. “Every time he’s late for dinner or goes out on club business.”
“How do you—why do you stay with him? Doesn’t all the fear and worry screw with your head and make it harder to be with him?”
“I can’t not be with him. I love him. Next to my dad, he’s the greatest man I’ve ever known. I can’t throw all that away over what might happen. Heck, I’d never get out of bed if I was worried about what might happen.”
I nodded slowly as I thought over what Jessica said.
“Don’t forget, Nicole, you’re the nutty risk taker of our crew. If anyone can hack it as a biker’s old lady, it’s you.”
I had to laugh at Jess’s pseudocompliment. She was the badass who’d been shot last year. Jessica was the definition of nutty risk taker. “Could you not tell Tank where I am? I just…I’m not ready to see him yet.”
Jessica nodded. “Hey, the boys have their club business. Us girls have our own business, too. But I will tell him that you’re still alive and just need a little space. Otherwise he’ll be the next one breaking down your door.”
“Thank you.”
“What are sisters for? I’ll see you Saturday.” With one last soulful look at me, Jessica left.
I sat there for a second thinking about what she said. I know she was right. I wasn’t a hundred percent about Brittany being comfortable seeing me, but I knew Tank at least needed me. I just wasn’t sure how I’d fit into his life right now. Could he look at me and not see his buddy bleeding out on the asphalt?
“It was your father, wasn’t it?”
I jumped as my mom suddenly appeared in my bedroom doorway. Biting my lip, I jerked my chin in a short nod. I couldn’t lie to my mom. She deserved to know.
“Goddammit.” She grabbed the door jamb to help hold herself up. “Why? Why do I keep letting him do this to us?”
My stomach cramped as I watched my mom. I know she needed comfort, but I was still kinda angry with her. She’d let him back into our life. It was irrational, I know, but I couldn’t stop feeling resentful over her part in Stitch’s death, too.
My mom sniffled and wiped under her eyes.
But at the end of the day, she was still my mom. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“I guess I’m gonna have to be. Because he’s gone, right? He’s not coming back?”
I know what I promised Reb, but my mom deserved to know. For the first time I could remember, we talked openly about the kind of man my father was. “He killed the husband of one of my friends. On club-owned property. Bear was alive the last time I saw him, and I don’t know what they had planned for him, but I do know he’s never coming back.”
My mom nodded as she absorbed the news. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her all the ugliness he’d spewed the last time I saw him. I might’ve been pissed that she brought him back into our lives, but I sure as hell wasn’t gonna rub salt in her wounds. But maybe one day I’d get up the courage to ask her what he meant when he called Austin a bastard. We both just lingered there, lost in our own morose thoughts.
Finally, my mom blinked and stood upright. “Just don’t tell your brother, okay? He’s better off not knowing what happened to your father, especially if your guy had a hand in it. Sounds like he’ll be sticking around for a while.”
“Wait, you’re okay with it? With me being with Tank after…”
“You love him, don’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “I think I might.”
“And he’s good to you? Doesn’t belittle you or get physical?”
“No, Mom. Never.”
She smiled sadly. “I always wanted better for you than I had for myself. At least I did one thing right.”
After talking to Jessica, I understood a little bit about the kind of life my mom had decided to live with my dad. I didn’t think I’d ever completely understand, given the asshole my dad is—was—whatever. But I had to give her huge props for what she did for us, for herself, after he went to prison. So I jumped off my bed and walked over to my mom, then gave her a huge hug.
“I think you did a lot of things right,” I whispered as I held her.
She gave a huge shuddering breath then broke down. My eyes welled up at the sound of her heartbreak. We held onto each other and sobbed.
Chapter 28
STITCH’S MEMORIAL SERVICE, VALLEY VIEW CHRISTIAN CHURCH
NOVEMBER 14
The parking lot was full of more bikes than I’d ever seen. I sat in my car a few blocks up Geiger Grade Road and watched as the bikers arrived. Most came in a cluster—two, three, four at a time. A few arrived solo. But all wore the same uniform—boots, jeans, and club colors. I felt overdressed in my sedate little black dress. I shouldn’t have come. I knew that I’d stand out like a sore thumb at best, or be vilified the minute I stepped through the doorway.
Like the coward that I was, I waited until I was certain that the service had started, then pulled my car into the lot. Since I was late, I had to park in the back of the lot near the street and walk. My gaze slid over the rows of motorcycles and the cars here and there. I recognized Emily’s Audi and Jessica’s SUV. Toward the front of the pack, Tank’s bike. Despite the number of times I’d been on the back of it the last few months, the sight of his bike still made my stomach knot with tension. I don’t know who I was more nervous to see today.
Toward the front of the parking lot the hearse took up three spots, a grim reminder of why we were all here today.
I hesitated when I reached the top of the stairs leading to the entrance. The thought of what was on the other side of those doors, what I’d see when I opened them…I needed a second to catch my breath. After mentally counting down from ten, I pulled the double doors open and stepped through.
And froze.
I’d purposely come late. I’d wanted to sneak in after the service had started so I could find a place in the back where I wouldn’t disrupt anyone. What I hadn’t counted on was how I’d feel when I heard Tank’s voice booming from the pulpit as he gave Stitch’s eulogy.
“…was the father I never had the chance to have.”
The outer doors slammed shut behind me. I flinched at the sound while everyone within hearing distance swung around and stared.
At me.
Avoiding their prying eyes, I scurried into the chapel and took up a position standing at the back of the room with the wall at my back.
And I faced the vision I’d been hiding from all week. Tank stood at the pulpit with his hands on the podium, looking as strong as ever, but vulnerable. I doubted anyone else could see his vulnerability—it was in the deep lines bracketing his mouth that hadn’t been there a week ago and the sheen in his eyes that even the distance between us couldn’t hide. He was hurting.
“…never saw himself that way. Stitch was always about the brotherhood first and foremost. He loved the club. When he gave me the True Brothers spiel after I helped him out with a little disagreement he was having with a few Tramps—” Tank had to paus
e as several guys in the pew grunted their approval. Tank grinned. “Stitch was a short little s.o.b., but he could really kick ass when he needed to.” Tank winced and apologized to the minister before continuing. “Sorry, Padre. But he was always about the brotherhood. The club was his life. Stitch got his road name from the first president of our chapter, because he took sewing lessons so he could sew his own patches on when he became a fully patched member. He didn’t want anyone to touch his colors. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there ’cause I would’ve voted for a road name like Girl Scout or Suzy Homemaker.”
The crowd rippled with soft laughter.
“I don’t think anyone who met Stitch would’ve doubted his love for family. If the club was his life, then his family was his soul. Brittany, Jackson, and Amber were everything to him. You kids were what made Stitch get up in the morning. And Brittany, I think everyone here can agree that Stitch loved you with an intensity like nothing else.
“I remember a few months ago we were at the clubhouse talking about women and Stitch told us…” Tank took a second and looked up like he was trying to remember Stitch’s exact words. Then he blinked, and with pinpoint precision looked straight at me at the back of the room. “ ‘I’d do anything for Brittany. The love of the right woman makes life worth living. Nothing else matters. Nothing.’ ”
He was saying the words to me. My eyes welled with tears as I felt Tank’s love wash over me. I’d made the right decision coming today. Tank had forgiven me. Hell, he might even so much as love me.
The rest of the service was just as heartfelt. Reb got up and said some words. Stitch’s son, Jackson, stood up in a shiny new vest and spoke about his dad teaching him to ride and catching him out behind the house with his first serious girlfriend. Brittany didn’t get up. She sat to the right of the pulpit with red-rimmed eyes and her daughter’s arms around her. Her shoulders heaved with her sobs, and my heart broke every time I saw her swipe at her eyes.
When the service ended, the Byrds’ “Ballad of Easy Rider” played while Brittany’s kids helped her stand and walk down the aisle. Club members surrounded the closed casket that I’d spent the past hour avoiding looking at and slowly rolled it down the center aisle. My heart clenched at the knowledge of what lay inside. The man we’d spent the last hour honoring would never be at Brittany’s side at a bonfire or make Tank laugh at a barbecue. Or be there to see the amazing people his kids would become. My guilt multiplied when Brittany, blind to everything but putting one foot in front of the other, walked by me. And then the casket, with Reb and Axle in front. Tank walked on the side closest to me, his eyes on me the entire time. I could see the worry and concern there, and my heart pounded. Why did I wait so long? He gave me a head tilt as he passed. I nodded in reply. I knew what he wanted, and I’d be there.
The rest of the crowd filed into the aisle and I took advantage of my proximity to the exit and slipped through.
In the parking lot, the guys waited as the funeral director readied the hearse. Brittany and her daughter stood on the sidewalk watching with tear-streamed faces. Without hesitation I crossed over to her. I stopped a few feet away and searched my brain for what I could say.
“Brittany. I’m just…I don’t—” I gulped as her arms wrapped around me and she hugged me tight. And we just lost it. She sobbed on my shoulder. Big, loud, gut-wrenching tears that I couldn’t help but join in. “I’m so sorry. I know that there’s n-nothing I can do. I’m just so, so sorry.”
After a hiccupping breath, Brittany stepped back and looked at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. “You know what you could’ve done? You could’ve been there for me this week. I needed you, Nicole. Where the fuck were you?”
“Oh God. You don’t know.” My stomach sank to my toes. She didn’t know. Not only did I have to beg her forgiveness, but I had to tell her why. Oh God.
She shook her head slightly. “What are you—” She groaned. “Not that. I know. Did you seriously avoid everyone because you were afraid of retribution for what he did?”
“Not retribution. I just…I felt so ashamed. It was my fault that he was there that ni—”
“Stop right there. You don’t ever apologize for anything a man does. You’re not responsible for him or his actions. Ever.”
“But he was my d—”
“Don’t care. He is not you. You didn’t hold that gun. You didn’t kill my husband. You don’t have anything to apologize for except for being such a shitty friend. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I had to laugh a little. It was insane that she was comforting me today. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Britt. But I swear, from now on I will be. I think I’m gonna need biker bitch lessons, if you’re willing to help me.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Anytime.”
Axle stepped up and put a hand on Brittany’s shoulder. She flinched, and a look of pain swept over Axle’s face as he dropped his arm to his side. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the pastor needs a minute, Brittany.”
Her eyes welled up and she jerked her chin in a tight nod.
I gave her a small smile and said, “I’ll see you later. I swear.”
Brittany’s daughter nodded to me as she followed her mom back to the church steps. She was just as beautiful and caring as her mother. It was a damn shame Stitch wouldn’t be here to watch her go to college and get married. Fuck. I swiped at the tears leaking from my eyes again.
“I’m glad you came.”
I whirled around at the sound of Tank’s voice. He stood in front of me just as strong and solid as ever, if not a little tired and carrying a world of hurt in his eyes.
“I, uh, needed some time. Had to get my head on straight.” I’d learned my lesson talking to Jessica and Brittany. I wasn’t responsible for what my dad did. But I had to make sure that this was the life I wanted.
“And is it on straight?”
“Yeah. I’m straight.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Tank grabbed me and pulled me to him until I was swallowed in his arms with my nose pressed against his chest.
God, I missed this. Him. My eyes welled up with more tears as his familiar scent surrounded me. I was home.
“Don’t you ever fucking pull something like that again. I was out of my mind trying to find you. I was this close to going all commando on your whole world before Jessica told me you were still alive. Not fucking okay.”
He was being so intense, I tried to calm him down a bit. “I thought commando was when you don’t put on underwear.”
“Not fucking funny. I was worried. Don’t do it again.” Tank rested his chin on top of my head and sighed.
“Yes, sir.”
We stood that way for a few moments. People streamed out of the church around us, talking to one another. Cars and bikes revved their engines and idled in the parking lot. A few guys stopped and nudged Tank on his shoulder, but he never let me go.
Finally we couldn’t linger any longer. The hearse was loaded and almost ready to start the procession.
“You’re on the back of my bike.”
I blinked. “Is that you asking or telling me?”
“I’m done asking you. You’re my woman, so get on the back of my bike.”
“I swear to God if I didn’t love you, I’d strangle you right now.”
Tank’s grin took up most of his face. “You love me?”
“You know I do. And judging by what you said up there, you love me, too.”
“You’re right. I do.” Tank reached around and slapped me on my ass. “Now get on the back of my bike, goddammit.”
I wasn’t letting him get off that easily. “Say it first. I need to hear the words.”
“I love you.” Tank leaned close and gave me a smacking kiss. “Now get on my fucking bike.”
“Yes, sir.” Like a good biker bitch, I hustled to do his bidding with my ass burning from his smack, and his love filling my heart. I don’t think I could’ve asked for more than that.
Epilogue<
br />
Tank
NOVEMBER 26, THANKSGIVING
I don’t know how I let her talk me into this. Actually I do. It involved vanilla-frosting-flavored lube, Nicole’s mouth, and a lot of enjoyment on my part. Christ, she’s a talented woman.
Still kinda think I got the short end of the stick. I should’ve held out for more.
It’d been a hard couple of weeks, but we’d found our new normal after Stitch. His son, Jackson, had come to me, looking to prospect for the club. I know his dad wanted him to go to college and do something with his life, but I couldn’t turn the kid away. He was family.
Like Nicole’s mother. Whose front porch I was currently standing on.
To say I was dreading this meeting with everything inside me was an understatement. I was the one who’d handed her husband over to the Volkskaya Bratva, a branch of the Russian Mafia, who also happened to be at war with the Wild Riders MC and La famigghia.
So yeah. Not exactly eager to meet Mrs. Walker.
“It’s gonna be fine,” Nicole said in a placating tone as she rubbed my back.
She was lucky my hands were full with the pies she’d made me carry. A comment like that one made me wanna slap her ass. I wasn’t a kid needing to be coddled, dammit.
“How long did you say Thanksgiving dinner lasts at your mom’s house?”
I hadn’t had much exposure to big, traditional holiday meals outside of the military. My mom was always working, and Christy was a horrible cook, so I hadn’t really done the family meal thing before. And given the way things currently were between me and Christy, it’d be a while before we did anything together.
“What was it that Stitch said? ‘Nothing else matters. Nothing.’ ” Nicole smiled up at me. “Even if it all goes horrifically wrong—which I swear it won’t—we’ll be okay. I love you.”
I leaned down, my hands still full of pies, and kissed her hard.
Which is when her mom opened the front door.
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