I Will Revel in Glory

by Stunich, C. M.

  “After last night, this is what you want to talk about?” he asks, exhaling sharply. “But no, plans haven’t changed. I would never let Reba go if I thought she’d be in danger.”

  He turns and hops up on the counter; I can see his muscular back reflected at me from the mirror.

  “I’m assuming word of last night’s escapade has made its way to your father …”

  “It’s time, Gidget,” Grey tells me, and his gray eyes sparkle with a sort of manic light that I wonder if I wouldn’t have been able to douse if I’d married him. Yeah, I think it would’ve been a good thing for him. I could’ve helped keep him grounded and level. Looking at him now, I’m a little concerned. Not that I think he’ll turn on me, no. More like, I’m worried that he’s going to hurt himself, damage his soul, break his own heart. “Everyone knows what you did to Giulia and Cosimo.”

  Giulia, he says. Not mom.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, but Grey ignores me.

  “My father’s assembling an army. We’re quite literally going to march on the club. He wants to make a move before the other chapters arrive.” He turns his head slightly to one side, listening for something before looking back at me through the screen of my phone. “Tomorrow, Gidge. Tomorrow.”

  My pulse races, and dizziness sweeps over me.

  I should’ve known that killing the don’s wife would be the final spark to the tinder of this long-awaited war.

  “Where? At the compound?” I ask, but he just shakes his head, sandy hair shifting with the movement.

  “I don’t know. We’re watching the emergency alerts, too. Have you seen it? If the winds don’t die down tonight or shift direction, it’s possible that the fire complex will sweep right through Ashbury. That could complicate things.”

  “We won’t leave unless absolutely necessary,” I say, thinking about Cat, about all the people that are staying here. “There’s firefighting equipment on the compound. And anyway, we’re further north than Ashbury proper.”

  Grey takes that in and then nods.

  “Please get Reba out of there today—just in case.” Grey meets my eyes, and I can see that we both know that the next time we see each other in person, it isn’t going to be fast-food sandwiches or quiet discussions in dark attics.

  No, it’ll be bloodshed. His side, my side.

  “I will,” I promise, and then we hang up and I’m left sitting there with the phone in my lap and a million and one impossible tasks on my to-do list.

  My nails dig into the fabric of the quilt, and I close my eyes.

  I’ve always done the impossible before so why not now? Just one, last time. That’s all I need: a final miracle.

  I shove up to my feet and head into the bathroom to get ready.

  After church, it’s time for another face-to-face chat with my father.

  Grainger escorts me back down to the clubhouse later.

  “He’s in a much better mood today, but I still don’t like this,” he grinds out, standing back and holding out a hand to indicate that I should head up the stairs in front of him. More than likely so that he can stare at my ass in my black leather pants. I could live in leather, fuck in leather, die in leather.

  The smell, the feel of it against my skin, the strength of it.

  I shake my hands out as we approach the door to Cat’s office, my eyes dropping down to the floor where Gaz’s body slumped, a pool of blood slowly spreading out around him like a disease. Shit. It’s so heavy; the world is so heavy.

  I make myself bear it.

  I raise a fist to knock on the door and Crown opens it. Good sign, right? This is more like normal, more like the good ol’ days. I suppress an eye roll as I move into the room to find that Sin and Beast are also here. René, too, and my gaze turns to his with unmasked sympathy. He isn’t looking at me though. He’s got his hands clasped in front of him and is waiting patiently as Sin hands another Daybreaker an iPad and sends the man on his way. The guy sweeps past me just as Cat looks up from his desk.

  There’s a quiet, still moment there where our eyes meet and so many unspoken things pass between us. He loves me. I know he does. Even if he’ll never say it. Even if I hate him. Even if I know that the world would be better off if he were dead.

  “Everybody out,” Cat says with a loose sweep of his hand. The other men in the room obey the order like they’re compelled. My men, on the other hand, hesitate. I give Beast a look first because I know he won’t move without my orders. Not in a situation like this.

  My husband glances over at his president.

  Cat isn’t looking at him; he’s still looking at me.

  Whatever Beast sees in his president’s face must convince him that I’m not in any danger because he turns and leaves the room. Sin is next, giving my shoulder a pat as he passes by. I hear Grainger slip out behind me. Crown is the last to move, but when he does, it’s with strong, confident footfalls, as if he’d intended on leaving all along.

  I watch him go, and then turn back to Cat at the sound of the door closing behind me.

  The men won’t go far. If I need them, they’ll be there.

  “Well, good morning, Gidget,” Cat says with a bit of a laugh. He stands up straight and looks me over. A new assessment from fresh eyes. He still doesn’t trust me. He may never trust me again, but he’s at least marginally pleased with what happened last night.

  “You sent me in there to die, and I brought you the head of the don’s wife.”

  Cat nods slowly, crossing his arms and then reaching up to rub at his beard with one hand. It’s impossible to miss the patch that reads President on the front of his cut. He’s been a good one, too, turning this forgotten chapter of the Daybreakers into a powerhouse when they used to be little more than a street gang.

  That was mostly Cat, first as VP then as president.

  Death by Daybreak is really and truly his entire world.

  “What do you want, girl?” he asks, and I exhale. Maintaining my composure right now isn’t easy. My father stirs up more emotions in me than any other human being in existence.

  “My friend, Reba.” I pause and then, just for Cat’s sake, I add, “the wannabe nun.”

  “What about her?” he queries as I struggle to keep my breath even.

  “The mafia is assembling their army, Cat. They’re coming for us.”

  That makes him smile in a very patronizing but not displeased sort of way.

  “Of course they are. You left a hell of a mess in that damn casino.” He moves around the side of the desk and in front of it, leaning back against it so that we’re only a few feet apart. “What about the nun?”

  “With that threat, and the threat of the fire, I want her to leave the compound.” The words come out strong, but more like a suggestion than a threat. At this point, if Cat says no, then I’m smuggling Reba out myself, consequences be damned. We’re about to be so embroiled in battle with Grey Wolfe (the entity, not the person) that it won’t matter for a while anyway. “She doesn’t know anything, Cat.”

  “She knows enough,” he tells me, and I feel myself cracking on the inside. Why isn’t anything I ever do enough for you? I wonder, but then I shake that off. Despite myself, I’ve wanted Cat’s approval for a long time. It isn’t right, and it doesn’t make any sense, but the world doesn’t make sense. Humans are flawed and imperfect and messy and contradictory. It is what it is. Still, it hurts anyway. Cat saved my life, so there’s a connection there, but if he won’t let himself acknowledge it, there’s nothing more I can do. “But I’ll tell you what. You tell me where to find that Grey brat, and I’ll let your friend walk.”

  I pause there for a minute, aware that this is yet another test.

  We both pause at the buzzing of our phones and Cat frowns, grabbing his off the desk. I pull mine from my pocket and we both stare at the message on our screens. I’m just assuming that he has the same one.

  Lane County Emergency System - this is an automated message. Your area has been
upgraded to a Level 2 - Be Set - Alert. There is significant fire danger in your location. Voluntary evacuation is recommended; gather items at your own risk. If you choose to remain, be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.

  Oh shit.

  I look back up at Cat.

  “Let me get Reba out of here,” I say, squeezing the phone in my hand. “And I’ll find out where Grey’s going to be tomorrow.”

  Cat studies me carefully.

  “If you fuck this up, girl, that’s it for you. You understand that, right?”

  I nod.

  “Good.” Cat stands up from his desk, pausing beside me. He gives me a pat on the shoulder, much like Sin did but with considerably less affection. It’s more than I’ve gotten from him in a long, long time though. Since I was a small child, actually. “Nice work last night. You sure are a ruthless bitch. Can’t wait to see the nightmare of a grandchild that you pop out.”

  Ruthless.

  Grandchild.

  I’m pleased on multiple levels—even if I feel guilty for having that reaction.

  My father moves away from me, and I turn to look after him as he opens the office door and disappears down the hall. Crown peeks in at me, but then follows after his president. Sin, too. Beast is the last to go, but he offers me up a slight nod before leaving. Then it’s just me and Cade motherfucking Grainger.

  “Take me back to the house,” I tell him, and I try not to let the overwhelming surge of emotion in my gaze show through. Somehow, Cade sees it anyway, moving into the room to put his hands on either one of my shoulders. He’s … surprisingly cuddly in bed. I know it sounds weird, but he curls me up tight against him and uses me like a body pillow.

  I don’t think that he’d ever cop to it during daylight hours though.

  “Don’t stress, Gidge,” he says, but even his face is creased with worry. Between the fire and the mafia and our very own refugee families, it’s a lot. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I quirk a brow at him, trying to lighten the mood a little.

  “I know that. It isn’t me that I’m worried about.” I reach up and give his chest a rub with my hand, his dark eyes following the movement before he looks up at me. His perfect mouth is turned down in a frown, and his stubble is thicker than usual. He just hasn’t had the time to shave. I end up reaching toward it and trailing my fingers over the rough hair.

  “You should only be worried about yourself,” he says, and then he snaps his fingers at me. “And our baby.”

  I roll my eyes, but I’m glad he’s invested in this. There’s no point in us having a kid if he isn’t. It has to be a commitment; we have to actually care.

  “I’ll be fine—but only so long as you don’t get yourself killed during this.”

  Grainger takes my hands in his and yanks me into him, leaning down and pressing one of his savage kisses to my mouth. He tastes … uncivilized. Wild. Raw. We flick our hot tongues together, deepening the kiss until he’s fisting his hand in the back of my jacket and pressing me so tightly to him that I can feel his hardness grinding into me through his jeans.

  “Fuck. We don’t have time for this.” He pulls away from me and swipes a hand over his mouth, yanking his phone from his pocket to check the time. “Come on. Let’s go get your religious friend.”

  “Don’t call her my religious friend,” I respond automatically, and he snorts.

  “Whatever you say, baby mama.” He takes off down the hall as I huff. I hope it isn’t your kid, just to teach you a lesson, you dickhead.

  I follow after him, grabbing the Escalade from its spot in the main parking area. Grainger lets me drive it—apparently my ovaries allow me to drive an SUV even though club culture believes they burst like bombs if allowed near a bike—and we return to the farmhouse.

  Reba is waiting.

  She has a single bag, packed with clothes.

  “That was quick,” I say, almost breathless, and she nods, reaching down to stroke one of Fem’s triangular ears.

  “I’m ready,” she tells me, exhaling deeply as she looks past me at Cade. “You’ll take good care of her for me, won’t you? I know you and I never did get along right, but I’m trusting you with my oldest and dearest friend. Do not …” Reba swallows, chokes a little. “Fuck this up.”

  It’s literally the first time I’ve heard her curse in my entire life.

  A laugh escapes me, but I clamp a hand over my mouth because I sound hysterical.

  I’m going to miss having her around, seeing her regularly. It might very well be years before we’re in the same room again. That’s the reality of our situation.

  “If there’s one thing you can count on, Mother Superior,” he says dryly, and she narrows her eyes on him. “It’s how I feel about Gidge. Get your shit in the car and let’s go.”

  Reba puts her hand to her chest, as if, even though she just used the word ‘fuck’ for the first time, she’s still scandalized by Grainger’s easy cursing. That makes me smile, really and truly smile. Goddamn it, I’m going to miss this girl.

  Cade turns away and pounds down the steps as if even that much emotion was too much for him. I lock eyes with Reba.

  “I still hate ‘im. I still hate most of ‘em. But you know what? If anyone can handle these brutes, it’d be you.” I smile at that as she gestures down toward the bag at her feet. “I took some of Queenie’s clothes with me. I hope that’s okay?” She looks back up at me, the slightest flicker of fear in her eyes, like she doesn’t wonder if this might set me off again.

  I reach out and take her hand in both of mine.

  “New life, new start. Queenie would be thrilled to know you’re wearing her clothes. Lord knows I never would.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Reba says with a raise of both red brows. “I found a whole box of maternity clothes. I took the liberty of washing them, drying them, and folding them. They’re in the top drawer of the dresser in my room.”

  I almost cry at that one; I won’t lie. But we have more pressing matters.

  Fire. Mafia. Cat.

  I told him that I’d give him Grey’s location, and I will. Because Grey would want me to do that, for Reba’s sake. I just need to call him again in the morning for an update. Like I said, we’re friends, but we’re also rivals. We just have boundaries that we won’t cross with one another.

  “Before I go …” Reba starts, biting her lower lip hesitantly. She rubs Fem’s ear again, as if for luck. I’ll admit, those velvety triangles are addicting. “I know you can’t show me exactly where my parents are buried, but …”

  I exhale and then nod.

  “Okay,” I say, and that’s that. I bend down to grab her bag, cluck my tongue for Fem to follow along, and head for the Escalade.

  Grainger lets Reba have the front passenger seat, sitting in the back with Feminist. They keep their distance, but at least the dog doesn’t bite Cade. I consider that definite progress.

  I end up taking Reba to the spot where Sin and I had sex in the rain, using the old-ass tree as a marker. It’s got a massive trunk, and it’s covered in those aptly named resurrection ferns. This is as good a spot as any for a grave.

  Reba kneels down in front of the tree and clasps her hands together in prayer, her eyes closed tight. I hang back with Grainger and Fem near the Escalade, watching and waiting. If she needs or wants me there, I’ll go to her.

  “I don’t hate your friend,” he tells me after a while, heaving a huge sigh as he glances my way. We look at each other as ash drifts down around us. It’s been bad for weeks, but it’s really bad today. As Grey said, the winds have blown the fire straight up toward us. Combine that with the years-long drought we’ve been having, the tinderbox like forests, the new suburban sprawl, and it’s a recipe for disaster.

  I am not surprised in the least.

  “I just don’t understand her,” he offers finally, looking back at Reba’s kneeling form. The way the clouds shift, casting a strange glow over her and the tree as well as
me and Grainger, I assume that the divine is okay with whichever way we worship. Bodies in the dark, clasped hands in the light. Whatever brings us true joy and comfort.

  “Sure you do,” I say, picking up a stick and throwing it for Fem. He catches it in mid-air, missing leg be damned, and manages to land without a hitch, bringing it right back over to me. “Just pretend that I’m God and your prayers are the things you mutter when your face is buried in my cunt.”

  He snorts at me and gets out a pack of cigarettes, moving away from me before lighting up. He tosses a glance back in my direction and mumbles around the cigarette in his mouth. “At least I know that when I go to hell, you’ll be right there with me.”

  Grainger walks off, and I move a little closer to Reba. When she hears my footsteps, she gestures me over and I kneel beside her. She clasps our hands together as ash filters down around us like morbid snowflakes.

  And then she prays, and I sit patiently beside her and listen.

  When we head back down to the clubhouse and Reba offers me one, last heartwarming hug, I squeeze her to me as hard as I can.

  “I love you,” I whisper in her ear, and she chokes on her words. But she’s already told me so many times that I don’t have to hear it again to know that it’s true. “When you get the chance, call me. I know you don’t have a phone …”

  We part reluctantly, and she nods.

  “Will do, sugar,” she says, her drawl making me think of Beast and how they’re both from Tennessee, and I wonder if she wouldn’t be able to visit someday with us. Nuns can take trips, can’t they? Just … maybe not ones associated with the mafia.

  Reba kneels down to offer Fem a hug, and then she’s grabbing her duffel bag and disappearing up the steps into the bus. It’ll be driven to the airport with a full escort. I’m not worried.

  We’re past small snipes and guerilla warfare.

  Tomorrow, come what may, we’re going to war.

  Grey and I just need to find a way to stop it.

  I’m sure I’ve already figured it out, but I don’t want to put words to it.