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“What?” my sunshine breathed out. “How?”
“Lady said the baby’s name is Yeva Resnikov.”
“Yeva?”
“His name means life.”
“Oh my god. Katya. It’s her son.”
Nylah nodded, swiping across her face, and removing tears. “She didn’t survive the birth, Mimi, but she left a living will and signed it, asking that her son’s custody be placed with Naomi Peters.”
Mimi’s shoulders shook as she began to cry, holding the little boy close as she placed a kiss on his forehead. “I swear you’ll be loved. Every single day I will tell you how wonderful you are and when you’re old enough, I’ll tell you about your brave and special mother.”
“You won’t be the only one, sunshine. I just gained a son.”
Mimi glanced at her sister as I surrounded my family with my arms, never feeling more content than right this moment.
“Why didn’t the social worker stay?”
“She said she didn’t need to do that. Something about keeping a low profile.”
“That’s odd.”
“Whoever she was, I still don’t know how she knew you were here.”
My spine tingled as my Reaper senses danger.
Whatever the future held, I would protect my family and the brotherhood in the RBMC.
Resnikov, Rattler, and the Scorpion MC would wish they never faced the Tonopah chapter. Our Reapers were ready to harvest. Let the bloodbath begin.
The dry desert air was cooler now that night had fallen across the Great Basin. A shy moon peeked behind layers of filmy gray clouds. Stars shined overhead and I caught the last of the plum-colored rays as they sank below the horizon.
The was Stefanie’s favorite time of the day, or it was when I arrived at her grave.
Twilight.
The same sort of sky where I watched her dance in the summer rain and when I knew without a doubt that I loved her, would trade my life for hers, and nothing would stop me from making her mine. A night when the possibility of a future had seemed so promising and the simplest touch of her fingers brushing across my own blossomed hope in my heart. We had our first kiss under similar stars and when her head rested on my shoulder, I’d never felt more complete.
We shared an ice cream cone that night and I licked a creamy drop off the side of her sweet mouth. I pledged my soul to her in silence, handing over my heart because no other girl was ever going to mean to me as much as my pretty pageant girl.
Staring down at her grave, I blew out a breath, nodding my head once before I spun on my heel and headed back to my bike. The engine rumbled as I left the cemetery and rolled down the road with only one destination in mind.
My focus was singular. I paid no attention to the landmarks, the quiet roads, or the cool temperature of the breeze as it whispered across my skin, begging me to turn around and choose a different path.
Wasn’t possible.
When Stefanie was murdered, my choice was made.
The only thing left was the rage. It blocked out the pain. The sorrow. The guilt.
The flame from my lighter flickered in the careless wind as I started my smoke, inhaling the nicotine into my lungs as my lips lifted into the briefest of smiles.
Vindication. Vengeance. An eye for an eye.
None of those words were any comparison.
I wasn’t justice or revenge tonight.
