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God, I feel like a bitch for thinking that in this place. Even if it’s true.
When we’re far enough from the road that curves through the cemetery, I set Alexa down and reach for her hand. She toddles over the perfectly manicured grass slowly, stopping to pick a stray dandelion or two along the way.
We stop in front of Axel’s headstone, and I choke back a sob. I will not cry.
Sometimes, I still can’t believe he’s actually gone. He was too young. It seems so unfair.
Maybe I enjoy torturing myself because I can’t help but replay our last conversation in my head. The words we flung at each other before he left. How I knew our marriage was over, but I didn’t know how the hell I was going to untangle the mess of my life.
Answering the phone and listening to someone tell me Axel’s oil rig had exploded.
Waiting for days to find out if he was one of the few survivors.
They finally told me enough of Axel’s remains had been found to know he hadn’t survived the blast.
All those memories bring me to my knees. The soft, thick grass cushions my fall, and I rest my hand against the stone.
Not a single tear falls.
“Momma.” Alexa kisses my cheek and hands me a dandelion.
“Thank you, baby girl,” I whisper.
She cocks her head. “Why you sad?”
“I’m not sad.” I tap the side of my head. “Thinking about something sad.”
She wrinkles her nose.
“I know it doesn’t make sense.”
My sorrow feels out of place. I’m about to marry the man I’ve loved for as long as I can remember. I’m finally graduating from college. Blake and I are close to finishing our dream house. The roots, family, and stability I’ve longed for my entire life are within reach. My daughter will have a better childhood than I did. A happier one, full of family who love her like she’s their own.
Maybe it’s guilt, not sorrow pulling me down. While I’m where I belong, Axel’s in the ground.
Alexa reaches out and traces the words etched into the granite.
“He was your father,” I explain, but it seems to go over her head, which is probably for the best.
“Happy birthday,” I whisper to Axel’s headstone. “I would’ve come yesterday, but I didn’t want to risk running into your mom.”
I wrap my arms around Alexa and hug her to my chest. “Your daughter’s getting so big. So smart. She loves taking stuff apart and putting it back together. I figure she gets that from you. She’s obsessed with all the glittery, girly stuff, mermaids, unicorns—”
“Uni-corns!” Alexa twists out of my hold and peeks behind the headstone. “Where?”
“See?” A sad, soft laugh escapes me. “I swear I never encouraged that.”
I take a deep breath and sit back on my heels. “Murphy and I are getting married in a few weeks. I can only guess how much that would piss you off if you were here. And I’m sorry about that.”
“Here, Mama.” Alexa hands me another dandelion.
“Thank you, honey.” I set it down with the others, and she plops down in the grass next to me.
“You should know, he treats Alexa like his own. He loves her and will do anything for her. And if you set aside your anger and jealousy, I hope that’s what you’d want for our daughter.”
A tear slides down my cheek, and I swipe it away before Alexa sees and questions me. “I still wish you were here,” I whisper. “We wouldn’t have been together. You would’ve probably been off in Alaska or Saudi Arabia or somewhere crazy. And I’d still be marrying Blake.” I hug Alexa to my side. “But at least she would know you. And you would’ve known her. That’s what hurts.”
The wind picks up, tossing the hair around my face in the breeze. Strands must tickle Alexa’s cheeks because she giggles and pulls away from me.
I always feel like I should bring something with me to visit Axel’s grave. But he wouldn’t appreciate flowers. What does a widow bring her husband who died way too young?
I pull a single penny out of my pocket. The year we started dating is stamped on it. Not that long ago, really. Somehow, it feels like a lifetime.
I set the coin on the small ledge at the back of his headstone. Right next to the weathered one I left last year.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out. A text from Blake flashes across the screen.
More guilt tumbles over my shoulders. I lied to Blake about my morning plans.
Alexa grabs for my phone, but I shove it in my back pocket.
I stand and reach for her hand. “Bye, Axel.”
“Bye,” Alexa mimics, waving at her father’s headstone.
The simple word spoken from my baby’s lips shatters my iron resolve not to shed another tear.
Three
Murphy
My heart won’t stop hammering. Z can’t be serious. And Teller seconding the motion? They’ve both lost their minds.
“I’m not ready for VP.”
“Disagree.” Z glances at Rock and then Wrath. “I couldn’t have accomplished everything I did downstate without Murphy’s help.” He stops and slaps Teller’s shoulder. “You were a big part of it too—”
“I just helped clean up the books. Murphy put in the sweat equity,” Teller says. “He was your right hand.”
“Right hand, huh?” Rav makes a jerk-off motion with his right fist.
“Don’t start,” Rock warns him.
“Come on, Prez. He left himself wide open with that one.”
Z rolls his eyes. “Murphy handled himself like a VP. That better, ya fucking perv?”
“Rooster’s your VP.” I’m still too blindsided by the nomination to come up with anything better than that lame protest.
“Yes, and he’s getting up to speed fast.” Z glances at Rock and then back to me. “I woulda tried to poach you if I didn’t think Rock would kick my ass.”
Poach me? “I’m Road Captain. That’s what I do.”
“Our youngest one ever,” Rock reminds me. “Even Priest knows you’re an asset to this club.”
“What?” Am I still asleep? Priest and Rock have been discussing me? “Then who’s going to be RC?”
“I nominate Dex,” Wrath says.
“What now?” Dex sits up and stares down the table at Wrath. “Why me?”
“I second it,” Bricks says.
“Hold up.” This is insane. I raise both my hands in the air. “RC isn’t open yet.”
Rock sighs and stares at the table for a few minutes. “You going to make me hold an election?” he asks in a weary tone.
No one wants that.
The club hasn’t held official elections in years. Someone is nominated, and the club either unanimously agrees, or we find someone else for the position. Every four years, we take a vote to see if we want to change officers.
The system works. Pitting brother against brother to see who can get the most votes isn’t what we’re about. Unusual? Maybe. But we’re a small club. That’s what we’ve done for years, and the system works. It protects the brotherhood.
Rock’s gaze goes around the table, searching for someone to volunteer to run against me, maybe? Everyone’s suddenly taken an interest in the ceiling or the floor.
“Teller?” Wrath says, almost like a question.
Teller shakes his head. “I’m juggling too many investments and stuff to turn that over to someone else.”
“Am I really that awful to work with?” Rock smirks and glances at Z.
“Awful is such a strong word.” Z wobbles his hand back and forth in the air. “Intense, maybe?”
Finally, Rock takes mercy on me. “Let’s sit on this for a week or two. The club won’t fall apart if the VP seat stays vacant for a bit.” He meets everyone’s stare. “My door is open if someone wants to discuss the position without an audience.”
“Well, now you’re just making us feel like slackers, Prez,” Ravage says.
“If the boots fit…” Teller shr
ugs.
“I do stuff.” Rav pouts.
“You’re going to be doing a lot more stuff,” Rock promises. “Bricks and I have our hands full at the shop. I need you at CB full-time.”
Rav salutes Rock. “No problemo.”
“Fuck my life,” Z mutters. “Ravage, if you fuck up all the hard work Dex and I put into Crystal Ball, I’m going to kill you.”
Dex shrugs. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Rav’s actually been really helpful in your absence.”
Rav crosses his arms over his chest and sits back, throwing a smug look Z’s way.
“You sure his mouth won’t pull CB into a sexual harassment lawsuit?” Teller asks.
Rav waves both middle fingers in Teller’s direction.
“Believe it or not, he’s all business during business hours.” Dex holds up his hands. “I know. I was shocked, too.”
