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It suddenly dawned on me why my uncle had never remarried.
He didn’t want to make another woman a queen because he saw that title as a burden, not a blessing.
And it was exactly why he didn’t want me getting involved with a club member.
I reached across the table.
“She didn’t die because she was a queen, or because she was married to you, or because you were a King. She died because a college kid got drunk and decided to drive.”
“Yes, but if I hadn’t stayed back and put club business first, I would’ve gone home and picked up the wine along the way. Like I was supposed to. But I didn’t and she died. Just like Mirabella died because she was married to Jacob. And Saskia before her.”
Mirabella was shot dead by a psychopathic club member who was out for revenge on the club. He shot her to torture her husband who ended up committing suicide by putting his bike down in front of a truck.
Saskia was married to Liam, a club member from years ago. I remembered her fondly. When I was eleven she taught me how to apply makeup and gave me my first lipstick. A few months later, she and Liam were killed in the crossfire when a rival club shot up the clubhouse.
“Whether you like it or not, I’m already married to this club,” I said. “I was born into it. It’s in my blood. You can’t protect me from it, and you don’t need to.”
He finished his cigarette and I watched him crush it beneath his big motorcycle boots. Despite wearing a suit and tie, he wasn’t giving up his well-worn Harley Davidson boots for nothing.
He sighed and ran his hands through his inky black hair. When he looked up, his expression softened.
“So, you and Ruger, huh?”
“I love him,” I said with conviction. “And I’m going to marry him whether you approve or not.
My uncle’s jaw ticked, but then he nodded with appreciation. “Yeah, kid. I think I get that.”
RUGER
It hurt like a bitch. For two days, I lingered in and out of delirium. When I eventually woke up, they told me I had died a couple of times, but to be honest, I already knew that. I didn’t know if it was the drugs, or my brain shutting down, or if it was something more esoteric and other-worldly, but at one stage I saw my sister, Wendy.
We were on the swing set in the backyard of our childhood home back in Louisiana and she was wearing the white dress and sunhat she used to love when she was a teenager. And goddamn, she looked just as beautiful and as carefree as I remembered. In the hazy sunlight her blonde hair glowed like a halo and her bright eyes were as big as emeralds. She was laughing and I realized how much I missed hearing her laughter.
“You’re here,” I said, feeling lightheaded.
She looked at me and laughed. “Of course, I am, where else would I be?”
I looked around us. The grass was very green and the clear blue sky was lit with sunlight.
“But you died,” I said, wondering if I’d stepped out from a world where she was dead only to find it was nothing more than a dream.
She stopped swinging and turned to me, her beautiful face softening into a smile. “He needs to let me go, will you tell him that for me?”
I wrinkled my brow. “Who?”
“Tell him someone special is coming and he has to let me go. It’s okay. It’s time.”
Fuck. I was high. I had to be.
“What are you talking about?”
She reached out and touched my jaw. “Go back to her, baby brother. You’re going to make her so happy. The way that girl looks at you…” she sighed happily. “You’re going to be so happy for a very long, long time.”
I couldn’t help but stare at her. It was unbelievable how good it felt seeing her again. To hear her. It had been almost twenty years since I had heard her voice and now she was here, smiling and talking to me.
“I miss you,” I said.
She smiled at me softly. Almost regretfully. “I miss you, too.”
An annoying beeping noise broke into the hazy peace of the afternoon, and somewhere in the distance I could hear voices, but looking around I couldn’t see anything.
Wendy sucked in a deep breath and grinned, then leaned over and patted me on the knee. “Time to get back to it.”
I didn’t understand what was going on, but I knew I didn’t want to leave.
“I don’t want to go.”
She looked surprised. “You don’t?”
“If I go, I won’t see you again.”
She slid off the swing and stood in front of me. “You’ll see me again. But not for a very long time.”
The pulsating beep became a long, monotone beep, and Wendy pulled me to my feet. “Give me more blood, we need more blood.”
