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That’s when I clearly see the changes. It’s still a park. But it is fenced in now with shiny wrought iron fencing. There’s an ornamental entrance gate that names the place Annabelle’s Garden. My heart squeezes inside my damn chest as I read the words.

There’s a walking track, that would probably make a mile if you walked it twice. There’s one large picnic shelter with three tables enclosed and two barbecue grills between them. It’s cemented, but that’s not what catches my eye. It’s that out from the picnic area is a large flower garden. It’s winter, but even I can tell they are roses that are neatly pruned and clearly taken care of. Even now, despite the cold weather there are flowers in there that are green with pale pink flowers on them that are beautiful.

“We hired a landscaper. They keep the place pristine, and the flowers healthy. You know we don’t know shit about that kind of thing. Katie and Beth call those Christmas roses, and the white bloomed ones are called Snowdrops,” Torch says. “Those other things are supposed to be cabbage,” he shrugs. I’ve just been staring at the obvious money and work that’s gone into what is created here, but when he says they planted cabbage, I turn to look at them in confusion. I’m not a farmer, but I’ve never seen cabbage with colors like this—they look like flowers—different, but flowers just the same.

“Not cabbage, estupido,” Skull grumbles, elbowing Torch. “They’re kale. Beth says you eat that shit, but these are ornamental. You aren’t going to see me putting them in my mouth though. About the only thing I trust from the ground is potatoes,” he jokes, but I’m in agreement. That sparks off Sabre and Skull calling Torch all kinds of names, because he’s defending the new plant-based burger restaurants in the area are offering. I mostly tune them out as I look at the park that my family—because that’s what they are—have created for my daughter….

I jump when Skull slaps me on the back, his palm firm against my shoulder and until I feel the heat from it, I didn’t realize I’d gone somewhat numb. That’s because I’m staring at a memorial. It’s not a grave but then, I had nothing really to bury of my daughter. This is a granite headstone with an angel cradling it. My daughter’s name emblazoned on the plaque with the words… “Beloved Daughter”.

I feel like I can’t breathe as emotion makes my damn knees start to buckle.

“We wanted to give her and you a memorial. The club bought the land a while back and actually has most of our club cookouts here in the summer. We debated having your birthday party here, but I wanted to give you time to see it on your own, hermano,” Skull says quietly.

I swallow down the emotion that threatens to overtake me. I can’t for the life of me manage to talk. The most I can do is grunt. For some reason that makes Skull laugh.

I turn to look at him and he’s laughing.

“I’ve missed that grunt, Beast. I’ve missed it.”

The question is there in his eyes. I wait for him to ask it. Maybe he thinks it’s not the time and really he’d be right. For whatever reason, he doesn’t ask me to stay in Kentucky and I’m relieved, because right now…

I’m not sure what my answer would be.

Hayden

I lay my head against Michael’s shoulder, my arms wrapped securely around his stomach and let the wind and pleasure of being on the back of a bike with my man move through me. I was surprised when he asked me if I wanted to ride on the back of his bike. The baby’s not dropped into position just yet and it’s perfectly safe, but Michael never takes risks. The fact he’s driving very slowly, makes me grin. He’s always taking care of me. It’s a short ride—probably yet another reason he lets me on back of a bike, and once he parks, he steadies me as I get off slowly. I have to admit I’m a little wobbly as I get my legs under me and that’s a fact that Michael doesn’t seem to miss.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Beauty. Are you okay?”

I look into his beautiful eyes and smile. “I’m great. Michael, I wasn’t exactly coordinated even before I was pregnant,” I giggle.

He studies me, as if to reassure himself. Then, slowly his full lips move into a smile that instantly warms me. He slides off his bike with more grace than a man his size should possess.

The minute he’s up he takes me into his arms.

“I love you, woman,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head.

“I love you, Michael,” I assure him, my words muffled against his chest as I let him hold me for as long as he wants. In truth, I let out a sigh of disappointment when he lets me loose. He links our hands, and we walk forward, holding hands in silence.

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