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Hope swelled in my chest. It remained to be seen if it was going to be my salvation or my downfall. Either way, Stella was right. It was better to be the embarrassing schmuck with a boombox in your hand than live with regret. But before I could face my future, I had to let go of the past.
“Never took you for a coward,” Pops drawled from behind me.
I knew it was a mistake coming back to the club this afternoon, even if I really needed a shower.
There was a choking noise and when I turned around, Pops was slapping Beast’s massive back.
“Shit,” Beast muttered as he leaned over the bar sucking in air.
“You all right, big man?”
“Yeah,” he sputtered.
Tweak turned to Cherry. “Did Pops just call Hunter out?”
Cherry sucked in a breath and slowly nodded her head, her wide eyes reminding me of the angel that I set free, growing rounder.
“This is bad,” she whispered to Tweak, shifting closer to where he stood behind the bar.
Her sister never feared me, never shied away from my nature. It was one of the many ways they were different. I wasn’t even sure why Brandy wasn’t wary of the one man she probably should have run from. Then again, maybe she sensed she was my only weakness.
“You got something to say, old man, spit it out. I have shit to do.”
“Old man,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Maybe I am. But at least I had the balls not to run away from a woman.”
“Oh, shit.” Tweak smothered a grin behind his hand. “He went there.”
Yes, he had. I cocked my head to the side, really looking at Pops for the first time in a while. His hands were wrapped around a coffee cup. That was all I’d ever seen him drink besides beer. He released the cup to straighten out his hand, his knuckles appearing swollen, his hand shaking slightly. His hair and beard were grayer than I remembered, too. He was aging before my eyes, and yet, he was still as sharp as a tack. Even being wrong in his assumption, he was still the wisest man I knew. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t shovel his shit right back at him.
“Tell me, how did that go for you?”
Beast coughed and shook his head. Pops watched him for a second before he turned back to me. His eyes searched mine, but I doubted he’d find any answers. There was nothing there. Not anymore.
“Sometimes life gives you a shit sandwich, and you either swallow it down and move on or throw it out and start over. You can’t blame the girl for swallowing her shit sandwich. Hell, if you ask me, she licked her plate clean, which is more than most could stomach. Don’t be the dick that throws her out because of it.”
“Damn, I think Ryder has rubbed off on Pops,” Tweak said out the side of his mouth to Cherry. “Did you understand anything he just said?”
“Actually, yes.” Cherry straightened her spine and narrowed her eyes at me. “Mikolaj Kowalczyk, if you don’t get your head out of your ass and bring my sister home, I’ll annoy you to death. You think I shit sunshine and rainbows now, well buckle up, mister, because I can turn things up a notch. I’ll be so damned jolly it’ll be like living with a Christmas elf.”
Beast looked over at Pops. “Cherry just cursed.”
He stroked his beard. “And used his full name.”
“Not to mention threatening him with her perkiness,” Tweak snorted.
I was pretty sure she had to be bluffing, because come on, no one could be that nauseatingly cheerful. But one look at her face and I knew she would try. While killing her would easily solve the problem, I never would. No matter what, I’d always protect Cherry with my life. My angel had gone through hell for her and the least I could do was make sure her efforts weren’t in vain.
Still, I wasn’t sure I could do what she asked. Bringing Brandy back meant chaining her to this life, and I knew she deserved better. The horror of death, the constant danger, wasn’t meant for my angel.
The clubhouse door swung open and when I turned, there she was. For a second, I thought she was a figment of my imagination until I saw Stella standing behind her. Damn, she was a sight for sore eyes. Beautiful, angelic, perfect.
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
I even missed the low rasp of her voice.
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“My father. It was you, not the cancer that took him, wasn’t it?”
