“Regardless of what she says, her childhood wasn’t all that bad. We had some good times; they certainly far outweigh the bad. She was so stubborn, always arguing with me on every little thing. If I told her the sky was blue, she would argue it was green. She was happy at school, she never brought home a report card with less then C’s. She was a good kid, Cas. I rarely had to tell her to tidy her room, she was a clean little thing. She was sarcastic, and she had the ability to make me feel like shit with just one look. You probably like hearing that, but let me tell you, when an eight-year-old can do that to you as a grown ass adult, it guts you.”
I can imagine because I’ve had a few of those looks from my boys when they I wouldn’t let them have their own way.
“What did you tell her about not having a dad?”
“Nothing. I wouldn’t speak to her about it. I thought if I said nothing, she couldn’t accuse me of lying to her. After a while, she stopped asking.”
I try to picture a young Harper not understanding why the kids at school had dads around and she didn’t, and not only that, her mom wouldn’t explain my absence. Looking back, if shit with Alannah didn’t work out, I would’ve still been in the boy’s lives. Nothing on this earth could keep me away from them. If I thought I couldn’t hate this woman sitting beside me any more than I already do, I was wrong.
“How many boyfriends did she have to put up with?” I ask.
I don’t want to only hear about the good times, I want to know it all. I couldn’t give a shit if she’s ashamed, embarrassed, or fucking regretful.
“A few but it was over a long period, Cas.”
“Yeah? And how many of them beat on you like the fucker she killed? Any of them ever lay a hand on her?”
I can feel my blood boiling at the thought even though I don’t know her answer.
“Believe it or not, we didn’t live a life of being abused. No one laid a hand on her, not until we came here.”
And there it is, her little digs. I don’t get her though, it’s like she’s trying to punish me for not being around when it was because of her I wasn’t.
“You know once we have her back, she won’t leave this town. When we left Mercy, she wanted to build a relationship with me. She’s married to a brother. Her life is here, you need to get on board, or you’ll push her even further away. I’m going to be in her life, my wife is going to be in her life, and a shit load of other people. If you don’t want to be faded out, you should change everything you are.”
I’ve had enough of this, of her. I stand and snap my unlit cigarette in two and dump it in the bucket.
“Get some sleep, if you haven’t forgotten we’re burying your niece tomorrow. Be thankful Harper is still alive wherever she is out there.”
I walk inside and images of a young Harper asking for her dad and being told nothing haunts me as I climb the stairs and head for my bed.
Leo
The hum of low voices annoy me, like fire ants crawling over my skin. Ellis is still alive, and I swear, if I listen hard enough I can hear the intake of each breath he is still taking. With every moment that passes it becomes harder not to disobey my father’s orders and end that cunt’s life.
I had hoped when I woke this morning after finding sleep for a few short hours that the last few days would have been a bad fucking nightmare. Instead, I woke seeing the black shirt hanging on the back of my door with a black tie, I have no idea where it came from. My mother no doubt hung it there for me, knowing if I do choose to go, I wouldn’t have anything to wear.
The hours throughout the night were the longest and I changed my mind so many times about whether I would attend her funeral today.
I have to go. As much as I want to hide from our last goodbye, I’m going to force my legs to carry me to the cemetery.
My actions are slowed and blurry. I don’t know if it’s down to the pain or the vast amount of drink I consumed last night. Either way it’s dulling my perception and today is one day I don’t want to see clearly.
It’s taking the sharpness out of the pain.
Steam from the shower covers the mirror and I swipe the towel across the reflective glass. I look like shit and India would tell me so if she were here. A surge of violence courses through me and I clench my hand into a fist ready to punch the mirror.
Goosebumps scatter over my skin and water droplets from the shower roll down off my shoulders. The air is cold and then with my next breath, it warms, and a shudder runs through my spine like I’m not alone. When we used to lay in bed, I’d lay on my stomach, India would rub my back and lightly trace her nails down my spine, it’s the same feeling I’m having now, or my subconscious is calling for her and needing her.
Of course I need her. Fuck! I smash my fist into the mirror and hiss with the sting of the glass embedding in my skin.
If I close my eyes, I can almost hear her scolding me for causing unnecessary damage. She’d remind me that Rayna will be crawling around and walking in no time and we’ll have to be more careful.
Now it’s just me. I have to be more careful around Rayna. Not we. Not anymore. Picking the glass out and cleaning the blood off, I wrap a bandage over my knuckles that I find in the medicine cabinet and dry the rest of my body off.
After I’m dressed, I grab the tie and debate whether to wear it. I should wear it as a sign of respect for my girl, but if she saw me, she’d laugh and ask when I was up in court. Because the thought made me smile, I wind it under my collar and keep it loosely tied.
My smokes, my keys, my phone, I fill my pockets with all the shit I’m going to need and shrug into my cut. This room would have been the last room she stayed in and I close the door behind me, not knowing if I’ll ever come back to it.
I hear the brothers voice muttering outside as they filter through the open door and shadows creep into every corner in the empty bar. Empty, until Kristen steps in front of me dressed in her morbidly black dress and stupid black netting over her face.
India would tell her to stop being so dramatic and I would laugh and press my lips to the side of her head.
“I don’t want you there,” she says, the venom in her tone potent.
“Too bad.”
“I’m serious, you shouldn’t be there,” she repeats sternly, blocking me when I go to step around her.
“Get out of my fucking way.”
My tone can’t make it any clearer I’m not messing around with her and I fist my hands at my side to stop myself from shoving her out my way.
“Everyone knows she’s dead because of you, how do you have the nerve to stand at her graveside,” she sobs, not releasing a single tear.
I have the nerve because I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks, not anymore. We didn’t let anyone have an input in our relationship, it’s not going to change today. Our lives together are no one’s business.
“Kristen,” I say with a sigh, still trying real hard not to shove her out the way. “Out of respect to your daughter, I haven’t thrown you out of the way, but if you don’t move, I will move you myself, one way or another.”
She looks around and still no one is in here but the two of us. She steps away from me and I go to move around her.
“After I walk out of here, I won’t have the chance to regain a pinch of satisfaction from you…”
Before she finishes, her hand flies through the air and the impact when it lands on my cheek is harder than I anticipated. It tingles and it wakes me up.
“I’ll give you that, but if you lay another hand on me and I won’t be as forgiving. Now fucking move,” I bellow.
She keeps her head up and her shoulders straight, but the flinch she desperately tries to hide curls my lips.
“She was too good for you, and she gave you a ray of sunshine you can’t protect, Leo Jackson. This club, your ego, the belief you’ve been allowed to have, it all blinded you to the real world. Your mom, your dad, they both live like they’re untouchable and it passed down to you. Tell me, Leo,” she says, leaning in towar
ds me. “Do you still feel untouchable?”
Finally, a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. I have no inclination to hurt her further.
“When you die, Hell will be too good for you.”
“I agree with you, Kristen, now move.”
“You wear a Lost Souls patch, but you have no soul.”
“Again, I fucking agree, Kristen. Move.”
She holds her ground for another minute and the hatred she has for me shines through something fierce. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears and the rage she’s holding in, but she moves to the side and I waste no time walking away from her. I don’t need to feel bad; India knew there was no love lost between her mom and me. Outside the sun is shining bright, like her smile and brothers line the way to the bikes. The old ladies begin to climb in the cars, and I spy Rayna being put into Kyla’s car with her and Victoria.
I don’t remember parking my bike by my fathers, but it’s there and dad stands in front of them, placing his hand on my shoulder when I reach him.
“We’ll do her proud,” he offers, and I simply nod.
There is nothing to say, no words that will make any of this right.
With everyone on their bikes, the women in the cars, the soft winds are filled with bike after bike being revved and car engines coming to life. The roar of engines coming together as one could deafen God himself. I hope she fucking hears this too. The rumbles vibrate through my body and I’m pretty sure wherever she is, she can feel it too.
Under different circumstances, she would have loved this. Sitting behind me on my bike, her arms wrapped around me, she would’ve felt free.
As always, we wait for my dad to lead the procession and Sparky follows next. Slade rolls out third and one by one, we all follow knowing our place and keeping it in tight formation.
The timing is bang on as we pass through town, the hearse carrying her body drives up in front of us and pure white flowers of all kinds are placed around her casket.
My mouths dries and I choke around the air in my throat. Get a grip, there’s still another fifteen-minute ride to the cemetery. There hasn’t been a funeral service conducted in the church since my father took over as president, on account he has a thing about churches because of his mom abandoning him there. He married my mom there to show her how far he would go for her. She laps up that kind of shit from the stories I’ve heard.
Slade’s back is rigid straight up front and I look to my side and JJ raises his brows, silently asking me if I’m okay. I know he wants to be out there looking for Harper, and it means a lot he’s here for India. I look in my mirror and Zachery rides behind me, his gaze empty and on the road.
I look anywhere but at the hearse up front and as it turns to drive through the cemetery gates, I want to be sick. This is it, we’re so close to our final goodbye and it’s worse than I imagined it would be.
There’s a crowd already here and every pair of eyes follow our arrival as we park. Brothers who have travelled to town to be here out of respect, begin to mill around us and I take all the slaps on the back in support and I nod my head hearing all their offers of condolences. I don’t take them in. This is their duty, the same as mine would be if they were in my position. But deep down, once they are away from the sadness, their lives will continue on as they did before today. They mean well but it means shit to me.
Hushed voices and conversations go quiet and over my shoulder, India’s casket is being taken out of the hearse. As one, people begin to follow her through the cemetery until we arrive at her plot.
Dozens of flowers are already placed around the grave and the women take their seats on the chairs set out to witness my consequence.
Slade sits with Kristen while I stand with my brothers. Rayna sits on Victoria’s lap while Kristen holds her little hand. My heart aches for my daughter. She should be in my arms, I know this, I should be the one comforting her even though she has no idea why she’s here. But I don’t move.
Kristen said I had no soul and I agreed with her, but we were wrong. If I didn’t have a soul, this wouldn’t hurt so much. My life, as cocksure as I was knowing where it was heading, is finished. As the preacher talks about India and what she was like and how this tragic accident has taken her from us too soon, all I see is darkness.
Kristen presses her lips on Rayna’s soft hair and stands from her seat. She makes her way to the white wooden stand and dabs her eyes with her bundle of tissues before smiling weakly at the picture of India standing proudly on the easel.
“Many of you knew my daughter and many of you know she didn’t deserve what happened to her. She was too young and had so much life to live. If I had my way, none of you would be here today, but like India losing her life, we didn’t have a choice. You’re all to blame for her death and how you have the audacity to stand here grieving astounds me.”
Murmurs travel fast through the crowd, Slade is the only one who doesn’t seem to be listening to his old lady. Her pain has quickly turned to rage, and Zach crosses the short distance and wraps his arm around her. He whispers in her ear and she shoots her eyes at me.
“You all get to go home tonight, spend time with your loved ones. I get to go home knowing I’ll never see my daughter again, all because…”
“Zach,” Dad calls out. “Take your mom back to her seat.”
If looks could kill, dad would be in the ground and Kristen would stand over him shedding no tears and spit on him.
“Where were you, Cas? What happened to protecting her? Your promises are false, you don’t save anyone unless it’s your precious family.” The words pour from her and are followed by heavy sobs as Zachery walks her to her seat. Mom sits behind biting her bottom lip and manages for once, to keep her mouth shut.
“Your son is to blame for this, and everyone here knows it.”
I focus on India and bite down on my tongue. If this is what she needs to get through this, I’m not going to take it from her. My dad must feel the same because he stands beside me, not uttering a single word.
The preacher, unsure how to proceed, looks around and flips the pages in his stupid book until he comes across the page he needs. He reads a poem India never heard of and I tune him out.
I don’t move as the family get up to chuck a handful of dirt in the grave after her casket has been lowered and I dig my nails into my palms, clenching my hands into fists at my side.
“She’s in the ground now, when will Ellis be?” I grind out so only my father can hear.
“Very fucking soon.”
The crowd begins to thin but I don’t move just yet, I already know I’ll come back to say my goodbyes. I’m not doing it in front of everyone. How the fuck am I going to be able to walk away and leave her here, all alone and in the ground?
My daughter’s cries make their way through the muffled silence in my ears, and looking around for her, I find she’s back in Kristen’s arms and won’t be settled. Slade stands next to his old lady, but he’s fixated on the grave. Zach is lighting a cigarette and slings his arm around his old lady, she clings onto him, not in grief but to support him in his.
Zachery wouldn’t show it in front of the brothers. He’ll get high to smother his emotions until he can grieve in his own way in private.
Rayna’s cries grow louder and Kyla steps forward, holding her arms out, offering to help.
It’s wrong.
My legs are heavy as I walk by plot after plot, all ghosts to keep India company.
The crowds thin as make my way to Kristen, and Slade finally peels his eyes away India’s plot.
Grief has never been such a strong taste in my mouth when I look at him. Where Slade is a sad shell, Kristen is angry, even more so than earlier.
“Hand her over,” I say, clearing my throat.
“I’m not going to let you have her, you’ll get her killed. I won’t bury her too.”
“Give me my daughter.”
“You never listen, do you?” she spits out, stepping away from me as if it’s
going to do her any good.
“Slade, sort your old lady out. Take her home, take her anywhere, just get her to hand my child over.”
Casting his eyes between me and his wife, he seems like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He moves closer to Kristen and puts his arm around her.
“Maybe she has a point, you’re out at the cabin by yourself now and a kiddie needs a woman around.”
“My kiddie,” I growl.
I’ve had enough, leaning towards the pain in my ass, I take my kid, careful not to hurt her as I rip her from her grandmomma’s arms. Her cries come to a quick stop, only whimpering as she nuzzles her chubby cheek against me.
“Don’t do this,” Kristen begs. “I need her.”
“I’m her father, she needs me. You need to go home now.”
“No,” she sobs, throwing her arms out.
I’m quick to step back and cover Rayna as much as I can with my arms.
“I’m not going to stop you seeing her, but I am taking her home where she belongs.”
“She belongs with her mother, but you saw to that, didn’t you,” she fires at me like bullets.
“Don’t prolong this, son. Take the baby home and we’ll finish up here.”
My dad’s voice soothes my anger a lot and I turn my back on the lot of them. Leaves crunch behind me as I head for the bikes and cars and I know my mom’s following me without having to look.
The blanket covering Rayna, her pretty pink dress and sun hat, and her herself, they all smell like India, the fabric conditioner she uses, she smells like home. A new level of guilt sneaks inside me and I swallow the past of leaving her with Kristen. What’s done is done, I can’t take it back and if the truth be told, Kristen needed her, and I needed space.
Mom’s car is beside dad’s bike and I know she’ll have a car seat for Rayna. I make quick work buckling her in and close the door as mom climbs behind the wheel.
“Take her straight to the cabin, I’ll ride behind you.”
Swinging my leg over my bike, I dig my smokes out and light one as mom starts her car.
His One Regret: Sons Of Lost Souls MC Book Four Page 15