by Naomi West
“Something I should’ve done a long while ago.”
“Rocky, I don’t know what’s going on, but stop this right now. I’m your uncle and your President.”
I ignored him yet again, pushing the gun harder into his head.
“I’m going to give you two options. Confess or have your brains splattered all over the floor.”
“What the fuck, Rocky? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“So, you choose option B then? Because I’d be more than happy to comply.”
Something cold had taken over me and I was more and more sure that everyone thought I was mentally unstable. They all stayed back, though. Maybe it was out of fear or curiosity, but they were watching the entire event play out in silence.
“Rocky, listen to me. Calm down. I’ve done nothing to you. Just put down the gun and we can talk about this.”
“Alright you have five seconds to confess before I shoot your brains out.”
He still didn’t understand. How could he kneel on the floor with a gun to his head and still think I wouldn’t follow through with my promises?
“Five ... four.”
“Now wait, wait, wait!”
“Three ...two.”
“I said wait! I’ll confess, I swear.”
“Yes, you will,” I said. He didn’t have any other choice. “Tell everyone what you did. Tell everyone how much of a rat you really are. You were always jealous of my father, ever since you were kids.”
The people in the room made some noise at that. We’d finally arrived at the reason I’d brought them here, though a few of them were probably still holding on to the thought that I was crazy.
Cameron looked around as well, no doubt catching everyone’s eyes on him and realizing he was all alone. I knew no one would help him now. He’d made no friends in his time as president. Even Mack, the Vice President, was getting tired of Cameron. Mack hadn’t said anything, no one had, but I had eyes and ears and could see when he grew upset with certain decisions.
Everyone tuned further in and watched the scenario unfold with keen eyes.
“You knew you’d never be the man my father was!” I continued, raising my voice slightly. It appeared Cameron had reached his breaking point at that.
“He never had it in him!” Cameron yelled. Yes. This was exactly what I was after. I needed cemented proof and Cameron had just given it to me on a platter. “He never did what was necessary. He was too soft to make the hard decisions. This club is better off without him.”
I looked up at the club members once more and was proud to see them frowning, shaking their heads and muttering in disagreement.
“Billy was the best thing to ever happen to this club!” Someone called out, followed by a few more objections to Cameron’s ridiculous claim.
Comments like “You were a shit president,” and “I can’t believe you did that,” sounded out around the room. I couldn’t have asked for a better audience if I tried.
“You killed your own brother. It wasn’t Jason who organized the hit, it was you.” I emphasised my point my jabbing him a little harder with every word. The club was enraged now, finally understanding why I’d gathered everyone and why I was going to such lengths.
I dropped my voice a little. “You used me this entire time. My own uncle and you used me as a pawn.”
“You’ll never learn, Rocky. Billy was weak, and you’re just like him! I’d kill him all over again if I could!”
That was it. He’d gone too far and judging by the look on his face as I slid the gun around so that it rested in between his eyes, he knew it as well.
“Today will be the day my father is avenged.”
“Go ahead, Rocky. You don’t have the balls to go through with it. Like father, like son.”
His taunts spurred me on as my finger twitched on the trigger, itching to go ahead and end all our misery. I was so caught up in the moment, completely ready to pull the trigger, when a scream caused me to pull back slightly and look up.
“No, Rocky. Stop!”
It was Daria. When had she gotten here? I’d been so distracted I hadn’t even noticed Daria come in. I wonder what she’d seen but more importantly, I regretted what she was about to see.
“Not now, Daria. You said it yourself, he deserves to pay for what he did.”
Maybe I’d said it first but she agreed. Daria was never slow to suggest justice be served, we just had different notions of what justice entailed. Like now for instance. I knew she was about to try and talk me down from pulling the trigger but it just wouldn’t happen. I needed to make my dad happy, I needed to make him proud.
“Yes, he does. But not like this. If you kill him, you’ll be no better than him.”
I shifted from foot to foot, arms still outstretched and the gun in front of me. Her words weren’t really affecting me, just her presence if anything. I wanted to tell her to stop, to go away so I could finish the job I had to do but I couldn’t bring the words to come out of my mouth.
“It’s not going to bring your father back. Please don’t do this.”
Did she think I didn’t know that? Did she think that after Cameron was lying dead on the ground, I would look around and expect to see my father magically appear and begin speaking to me? No. I knew that wouldn’t happen, as much as I would wish for it every day.
Daria stepped forward until she was standing right beside me and placed a careful hand on my shoulder. Damn. She knew I couldn’t resist her touch.
“Please,” she begged. “For me?”
My eyes were narrowed with rage at Cameron, my vision still filled with hatred, but her voice was still managing to get to me. I still couldn’t contemplate letting Cameron go, I really couldn’t. Years he had spent planning to kill my father. Years he had spent lying to everyone and pretending he was a good guy.
He’d fooled me for so long. He’d manipulated me. He made me try and kill someone who was twice the man Cameron would ever be. Most importantly, he’d almost made me lose Daria and that was something I could never forgive.
“Please,” Daria said again and I felt my entire body soften.
Daria. It was always going to come down to Daria. I would lose her forever if I pulled the trigger, nothing would convince her that I wasn’t a cold-hearted killer after that point. I was so close to doing it though. After months and months of wanting it, I could finally get my revenge. My father could finally rest in peace.
“What would your dad say?”
What would Dad say? I was avenging his death and I knew he would be pleased about it. His brother had brought about his death. Who wouldn’t be pleased when justice was finally meted out?
I couldn’t remain quiet and pretend that what I really wanted wasn’t my father to come down the hall, capture my gaze like he’d so often do, and tell me he was proud of me. Just once. Just so I knew that he didn’t regret bringing me into the world, raising me and letting me go off as I did.
And Dad would be proud of what I’d done today, I was sure of it. I’d sought out the truth and presented it to the club so that there was evidence of Cameron’s crimes. Now none of them could ever turn it around on me and say I was crazy or power hungry. Just vengeful, and vengeful I could deal with.
Yes, Dad would be happy. Dad would be … well he wouldn’t be grateful. That was too strong a word. He wasn’t the biggest fan of ‘unnecessary’ violence. If it could be dealt with in an easier way, then he’d prefer it.
But Dad’s first thoughts were always about the club and so were mine. I was protecting the club and saving them all.
I frowned. Deep down I knew that the club wasn’t really the main factor in my decision to go after Cameron. In fact, it wasn’t even in the top three.
Was this what Daria was trying to say?
Had I really convinced myself that Dad would be happy about turning me into a murderer? Was it really about my father anymore, or was it just about me?
What would Dad think if he was watchin
g now, knowing his death had ripped apart the club and his only son was about to kill his baby brother. No matter what Cameron ever did, Dad was always the first one to forgive him, the first to make excuses for him. Dad loved Cameron and had taken care of him his whole life, something that made Cameron’s betrayal that much worse.
“Is it really your dad that you're trying to please?”
Those words had me rocking back on my feet. Who was I trying to please? No one was the first answer that came to mind, even though it was a lie. Was I trying to please my dad? Yes, but he wouldn’t be. Not at this. I could admit that now. That only left Cameron, but that was just wrong. Wasn’t it?
Cameron had drilled me since Dad’s death with advice and principles and things I should do in certain situations. He’d ingrained in me the motivation to go after my father’s killer and keep going until they were dead. Well, now that pursuit had brought me to him, did he still want me to finish the job?
Daria was getting closer and closer to the truth. It was amazing how she could read me like she did.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Daria said softly.
And I didn’t want to lose her. If I did this I could never be with her, I’d never see her again. That was something I wouldn’t be able to deal with.
I slowly lowered the gun so that it was no longer pressed against my uncle’s temple and trained it on the floor instead.
The club was still surrounding us, all looking on stoically. I turned to them, standing as tall as I could and looking each and every one of them in the eye.
“Will anyone testify? Will anyone confirm what they heard Cameron say today?”
There was a small moment’s pause before a hand went up. It was Mack, of course, always the first to volunteer, even if it meant betraying his role as Cameron’s vice president. I supposed that Cameron had never really counted as a president anyway. Mack had looked wrecked for days when he’d learned about his son’s betrayal, but he was standing by the club like he always had.
Another hand went up and then another. Mark and Liam the twin brothers who were born into the club and never wanted to do anything else. More hands were going up. And then more still. Soon enough, every single hand in the room was in the air. I scanned every single face in the room and all of them looked back at me with the same expression; trust.
They were all with me, every single one of them was willing to stand by me, and I would be forever grateful for that.
“Someone call the police.”
With no means of escape, Cameron didn’t put up too much of a fight as we tied him up and sat him in a corner until the cops arrived. He knew there was no hope for him now. Frankly, he was lucky to be alive, though nobody expected him to get up and thank Daria for saving him. She didn’t do it for him anyway. She did it for me, a realization that warmed my heart.
Daria leant against me, head against my chest and arms wrapped around my middle.
“I’m proud of you,” she said lovingly.
Maybe I’d never hear those words again from my father but somehow Daria knew how much they meant to me and granted them to me freely, something that meant especially more at a time like this.
At that moment, mere minutes after I’d listened to her and buried my notions of revenge, she proved to me that it was all worth it. It would always be worth it for Daria.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Daria
Roses were always my mother’s favorite. Not the red ones, she hated those. ‘Too cliché,’ she would say. Red roses were for bad first dates and Valentine’s day. She didn’t like the white ones either; they were too pristine and reminded her of her debutante years. Yellow roses, on the other hand, were perfect. “They’re always overlooked,” Mom would say as she placed them in a vase time after time. Yellow roses were not so extravagant and gaudy but simple, humble, innocent. Yellow roses, in my mother’s firm opinion, let someone know that you cared about them, that you truly, deeply and honestly cared about them, but you didn’t need to show it in an overwhelming way.
Those were the flowers Rocky and I laid on her tombstone every month. I’d like to think that wherever she was, she’d look down at them and smile, knowing I was happy and still thinking about her. After all, that was all I could hope for anymore.
“Are you ready to go?” Rocky asked me, leaning down to plant a kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into it a bit further, savoring the sweet contact even though he gave me plenty of affection and often. I would never tire of the little things with Rocky; the soft kisses, the loving touches, the sweet smiles. They were the best parts of my day now.
“I think so,” I said. “Yeah, I am,” I continued more decisively. It still surprised me every day that I was moving on with my life, living in the moment and taking it day by day, but doing it happily.
I bid my mom a final goodbye, something that didn’t haunt me as it once did. I wasn’t at the stage where I was completely okay with her absence yet. Some days were harder than others, but I was getting there. It was easier when I was with Rocky. He let me talk about her whenever I needed to, just so I’d never forget all the many memories I cherished of her. In return, Rocky would talk to me about his dad, which was something he was still getting used to. I insisted on it though, knowing it would help us cope, and it was.
It was now Rocky’s turn to say goodbye and he repeated the same thing he did every time he was here; he kissed three of his fingers and touched them gently to the top of the tombstone.
“Thanks, Corinne,” he whispered.
Mom had done a lot for us. Rocky and I both knew that her sacrifice was the sole reason we were together and we would never forget that or take it for granted.
Hand in hand, Rocky and I walked out of the cemetery, more at peace with the world and each other than we’d been in our entire lives.
It had been a long time since Mom’s death – almost eighteen months, now. And things had changed drastically in that time.
First and foremost, Cameron Weston had been sentenced to life in prison, unsurprisingly to all the members of the Satan’s Wings. He’d confessed in front of the entire club his plot to get rid of his brother and showed no remorse at any time. With so many people able to testify against him, he stood no chance. It still infuriated me that he never apologized or tried to repent through his entire case.
I was glad he was finally out of our lives, though I knew Rocky was still hurting over it. He’d had a gun pressed up against Cameron’s head, ready to pull the trigger, but I knew deep down it would have killed him to do so. It didn’t matter what anyone, even Rocky, tried to say about the matter, Cameron was family and no matter what he did that would never change. It was never going to be easy for Rocky to get over the fact that his uncle had betrayed his brother and nephew but Rocky was healing. Healing the right way and that was all that mattered. We both just needed time before everything would even begin to seem like it was normal again.
I’d like to think we were helping each other heal, though. I’d moved into his apartment recently, though that was something that took a lot of convincing.
“Move in with me,” Rocky declared one night after a passionate time in bed.
I’d laughed at first. “Are you serious?”
“Daria, you’ve been living out of your suitcase in the hotel for months.”
I sobered up pretty quickly when I realized he was serious.
“But we’re so young.” It was a flimsy excuse, one that we both knew I didn’t believe at all, but I didn’t know what else to say at the time.
“We haven’t been young for a long while, Daria.” As usual, Rocky was right. We loved each other, we’d been through hell together, why shouldn’t we move in? When it came down to it though, I wanted to be with him and a little decision like where I’d live didn’t seem worth the pain of being apart.
We spent most of our time at either the shop or the club now anyway, so living together didn’t seem as daunting as it originally did. The Satan�
��s Wings had undergone a massive change since Cameron left. It was better now, safer and happier. It was hard to explain but all the members were a lot closer now, a lot more open. There were meetings every week, a lot of them about mainly nothing, but it kept the communication going. A lot of people had moved back into the clubhouse, since Cameron had wanted everyone out of there while he was president.
It was always busy when we were there. Chaotic but in a good way. Many wives and kids of club members stayed at the clubhouse more and more now, and weren’t afraid to be associated with each other. You’d walk into the compound and see kids mucking around, parents hanging out, food everywhere and smiles on everyone.
