by Anne Malcom
Once I made it to the kitchen I sank down, the weight of reality hard on my chest. I took a moment, then grabbed my phone.
“’Sup whore? I thought you’d be balls deep into a sex marathon by now,” Gwen answered.
“Not exactly,” I said quietly. “Um, Keltan’s here.”
There was a pause. “Keltan?” Gwen said in a tiny voice.
I nodded, but then realized she couldn’t see my nod on the phone.
“I’ll be right there, I’m two minutes away,” she declared, hanging up.
I got Keltan’s beer and one for myself, returning into the living room.
“Here you go.” I gave him the drink, sitting across from him. “Gwen’s on her way.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking a pull of the beer. “That shit’s good. Nothing on the stuff we got back home, but a huge improvement on what I got when I was deployed,” he told me with a grin.
“When did you get here?” I asked, grasping for topics of conversation that didn’t involve his dead friend.
“’Bout an hour ago,” he said, sinking back into the couch. In other circumstances I would have been appreciating the way his muscles moved at such a gesture and inspecting the tribal tattoo sneaking out from under his tee. Not today.
“Holy shit, you must be exhausted. I should have gotten the whiskey out,” I joked. I sure as shit needed something stronger than beer. Like Prozac.
Keltan chuckled. “Nah, beer’s good for me. I’m not a hard liquor man myself, just a humble country boy at heart.”
I smiled. “So you’ve known Gwen a long time then?”
Keltan’s expression went soft. “Yeah, I’ve known her all my life,—she’s like a sister to me. Even used to beat me up when we were kids.”
I raised an eyebrow. Teeny tiny Gwen beating up this muscled Adonis?
Keltan saw my disbelief. “She may be small now, but she was a freaking chubby kid, and a vicious one at that,” he said seriously.
I burst out laughing at the visual. “I would have loved to have seen that.”
Keltan smirked. “Yeah, it’s hard to believe looking at her now. Although she could still hold her own against Ian and me, she’s something else when she’s riled.”
I nodded. “Don’t I know it.”
Silence descended for a moment.
Keltan’s face turned serious. “How is she?” he asked.
I paused. “She’s good. She’s better. She’s the strongest person I know,” I said quietly.
Keltan nodded, a proud look on his face. “I know, Ian was so proud of her. Wouldn’t stop talkin’ about how well she was doing after his visit here.” He paused. “He mentioned you as well—fuck, I think you’re the reason why we were going to open our security business two hours down the road. Then he could work on convincing you to marry him.” His tone was light but his eyes were haunted.
I swallowed, unsure of how to respond. How did I tell him I had no intention of becoming his best friend’s wife? Thankfully I didn’t have to, as the front door opened and closed. Both Keltan and eye looked to it, expecting Gwen. Instead we were treated with a friggin’ huge biker. His eyes narrowed at Keltan, who stood.
I stood also. “Hey. Brock this is Keltan. Keltan, this is Brock,” I said with a shaky voice.
Keltan stepped forward with a smile. If Ian had told him about a certain biker he wasn’t letting on. “Good to meet you, bro,” he said, holding out his hand.
Brock’s face was blank but he shook Keltan’s hand. “You too,” he grunted.
“Keltan’s a friend of Gwen’s,” I explained once they had released each other’s hands. Brock nodded, moving to stand beside me, his hand lightly coming to my waist.
“Sweet, you here from New Zealand?” Brock asked with a friendly tone, taking my beer to have a sip.
Keltan watched this but he didn’t betray a thing. “Nah, man, I’m here from deployment. Just finished my last tour,” he explained. Brock stilled, realization flowing through him.
We didn’t get to carry on this awkward conversation as the front door flew open again, Gwen bursting into the room. I could have kissed her. She carefully set down her baby carrier and squealed. “Keltan!” She ran into his arms
I detached from a stiff Brock to get a wide-eyed Belle out of her carrier. She made a snuffling noise as I picked her up, then quieted. I used to be nervous at holding such a breakable human, now I was a pro. As long as she didn’t projectile vomit on me.
Keltan grinned and somehow managed not to spill his beer as she descended on him, his arms going around her. “Hey G,” he said into her hair.
They stayed like that for a moment before she released him, smacking him on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, you asshole?” she scolded.
Keltan grinned. “Wanted to surprise you. Think you won that one, with your girl telling me you popped out a kid and got hitched,” he teased, his eyes going to the baby in my arms.
Gwen’s eyes followed, her eyes twinkling.
“Yeah, well, no one was as surprised as I was. I never expected to be a wife and mother at twenty-six, but I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she said seriously.
“Wanna hold her?” I gestured with my eyes. Keltan looked slightly panicked as I stepped forward with the baby in my arms. You would have thought I was holding an explosive.
“Shit, I’ll just look for now. I don’t want to fuckin’ drop her or anything,” he said seriously.
Gwen laughed, taking her daughter out of my arms. “She’s pretty resilient. I heard your mum dropped you as a kid and you’re fine—only minor brain damage,” she teased.
Keltan looked down at the baby in her arms and he softened. His large hand stroked her little cheek tenderly. “Yeah, well, let’s not forget the time Ian whacked your head on a car door. It only affected your hand-eye coordination,” he shot back, the air in the room changing at the mention of his name.
Gwen’s eyes instantly filled with tears and I froze in place, mindful of Brock’s arms around my shoulders, which had tightened.
“I’m so sorry, Ace, I promised you I would take care of him over there. I fuckin’ broke my promise,” he muttered, his voice hard.
Gwen shook her head furiously as if she was trying to shake away the tears. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, Keltan Brooke. I know you would have taken a bullet for him,” she choked out.
“Come on, babe, let’s give them a moment,” Brock muttered in my ear, his voice flat. I nodded, feeling like an intruder in this moment.
Keltan’s eyes shot to us as we made to leave the room. “Hey, don’t go. I’ve got something for you,” he told me, his voice stronger than before. He glanced back at Gwen. “For both of you.”
He motioned for us to sit down, helping Gwen and the baby to the couch.
“I’ve got to make a call,” Brock told me quietly before leaving the room with a chin lift to Keltan. I was left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do, so I sat.
Keltan took a deep breath. “Ian and I, we had each other’s backs over there in that shithole. Shit, I wouldn’t be sitting here today if it wasn’t for your brother,” Keltan told Gwen, who was as white as a sheet. “As much as we both wanted to get back here in one piece, we knew there was a chance we wouldn’t. Knew we’d be leaving people behind if we didn’t.” He looked to Gwen, then me.
I was finding it hard to breathe.
“Ian was prepared. He was determined as fuck to make it back to his family but he made arrangements for if he didn’t.” Keltan reached into his pocket to retrieve two crumpled envelopes. “Made me promise that if anything happened to him that I’d deliver these. And that I’d take care of his girls. I intend to keep both of those promises,” he declared fiercely.
Gwen had tears running down her cheeks and was clutching her daughter.
I was staring blankly at the envelope in Keltan’s hands. He got up and held it out to me. “He wrote this for you as soon as he got back last yea
r. Made me swear on the fuckin’ fate of the All Blacks’ World Cup game that it would make its way to you,” he told me.
I stared at the envelope, wishing I didn’t have to take it. My shaking hand took it from Keltan’s grasp. I set in in my lap, not looking at it. It was an emotional grenade.
Keltan handed one to Gwen who snatched it off him, then stared at it as if she unsure of what to do with it. She looked back up at Keltan. “Were you—” she started, then her breath hitched. “Were you there when it happened?” she asked brokenly.
Keltan’s face turned tortured. “I was two trucks behind,” he said quietly.
Gwen let out a stifled sob. “Was it…did he...was it quick?” she choked out.
Keltan put his arms around her. “He didn’t feel a thing, Ace,” he said brokenly.
The room turned silent, with the sound of Gwen’s sobs breaking it every now and then. I didn’t know what to do so I just stared down at the envelope in my hands, wanting to rip it into a thousand pieces and also pore over every word it contained. I ran my hand over the messily scribbled ‘Ames’.
Suddenly Gwen’s sobbing stopped and she jerked upright. “You’re staying here for a while, aren’t you?” she shot at him, wiping her tears away.
Keltan grinned slightly. “Yeah G, I’m booked in at the hotel in town. I’ve got a few days here and then I’m heading up to LA to check out spaces.”
Gwen perked up. “Spaces?” she repeated.
“Yeah, me and some buddies are opening up a security business up there,” he explained.
Gwen paused for a moment. “You mean you’re out of the army?” she asked quietly.
Keltan nodded slowly. “It was well past time. It was one of the things Ian and I had planned before. We were getting out and setting up our own shop well away from any fuckin’ deserts,” he said.
Gwen beamed. “That’s so fricking cool! You can come and visit, and Belle can have her Uncle Keltan make sure she doesn’t have a complete American accent,” she babbled excitedly.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And you’re not staying at a fricking hotel,” she continued on a frown.
“Of course not, he’s staying here,” I cut in and they both looked at me.
“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Keltan said, “I’m perfectly happy with a hotel.”
I smiled at him. “You’re not putting me out. There’s heaps of room, and Gwen’s just going to insist you stay with her otherwise. Trust me, you don’t want to share a house with a screaming baby and a broody biker,” I teased as Gwen scowled at me.
Keltan looked at Gwen who had raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. “I’ll get my shit,” he muttered, defeated. He said a quick goodbye to us both and Gwen descended on me as soon as he closed the front door.
“You sure you don’t mind him staying, Ames?” she asked, looking concerned.
I waved my hand. “Of course not. He’s your family and I can’t subject him to hearing you and Cade having your crazy animal sex,” I said.
Gwen’s cheeks reddened. How could she pop out a kid and still blush over sex?
“It’s fine, he seems like a good guy. As long as you promise he’s not going to murder me in my sleep we’re good,” I told her jokingly.
“Who’s going to murder you in your sleep?” Brock barked.
I jumped. “Sheesh, we need to get you a bell or something. You’re light on your feet for a huge fucking biker,” I said.
Brock scowled.
“She’s talking about Keltan—he’s staying here while he’s in town,” Gwen volunteered. “He was going to stay in a hotel. Could you imagine that?”
Brock stared at her a moment then glared at me. “Yeah, I can imagine that,” he muttered.
Uh-oh.
Gwen read the atmosphere. “You know what, we’re going to stay here too. Belle has a portable crib I can put in my old room and I want to spend as much time with Keltan as possible,” she said quickly.
I frowned. “That’s too much hassle.”
Gwen frowned back. “It’s not. Plus I won’t be doing any of the work. Cade will.” She winked at me. Her gaze went down to the letter in her hand and her expression turned serious.
“Can you watch Belle for a few minutes for me, Ames? I’ve gotta go take this outside,” she said quietly.
Brock stepped forward before I could get up. “I got her Gwen,” he told her, cradling the little baby in his huge arms.
Gwen gave him a small smile before coming up to me and squeezing my hand. I gave her a weak smile before she left the room.
I glanced up at Brock who had his eyes on Belle. I felt a slight pang at seeing him, in his cut, covered in tattoos, looking menacing as shit, directing a tender look at my niece. I ignored the fact that pang came from my empty womb. So not the time to get clucky, or wish for little Brock biker babies. Plus, you had to have sex to get pregnant.
“You volunteer to have a fucking stranger stay in the house with you alone, Sparky?” Brock asked me quietly.
I clutched my letter in my hands. “He’s not a stranger, he’s Gwen’s childhood friend for fuck’s sake. It’s not like I asked Ted Bundy to have a sleepover,” I argued.
“Jesus, Amy.” He shook his head.
“What, Brock? Have you got something to say?” I prompted, daring him to bring up the subject we had danced around the past week. He stared at me, his eyes blazing.
Before he could open his mouth Cade shot through the door. I hadn’t even heard his bike. Fuck, were these guys going to stealth school or some shit?
He registered Belle in Brock’s arms and gave him a chin lift. “You good with her for a bit longer brother?” he asked roughly.
Brock nodded.
“Where is she?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Out back,” Brock told him.
Cade nodded, gave one look to his daughter then went in search for his wife.
“You call him?” I asked after we had bathed in silence for a moment.
Brock nodded. “Figured he’d have my balls if he found out his old lady was going through this shit and I didn’t tell him right away.”
I laughed sharply. “Yeah, that’s about right.”
His gaze softened. “You okay, Sparky?” he asked.
I met his eyes, registered the tender look of concern in them, the love. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t have his sympathy, his understanding for my grief.
I stood quickly.
“I’ve got to go,” I declared, snatching my keys off the coffee table.
Brock’s face turned hard. “What the fuck do you mean? You’re not going anywhere.” He stepped forward, but thanks to the baby in his arms he couldn’t exactly tackle me.
I sidestepped away from him, darting toward the door. “I’ve just got to go, okay? I need some air. Tell Gwen to call if she needs me,” I said before turning my back and almost sprinting out the door.
I started hyperventilating five minutes after I left my house. Tears blurred my vision after ten. I somehow made it up to the overlook of the town. The place where a sharp drop held the ocean on one side and the town of Amber on the other. I let out a breath of relief as I turned the car off, as I realized I was away from it. Above it all.
The letter was sitting in the passenger seat staring at me. Yes, I know inanimate objects cannot stare, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel its gaze. That didn’t mean I could hardly breathe thanks to the fact it took up all of the air in the car.
How long I stared at it I don’t know. Minutes, hours, seconds. I touched it with shaky hands and slowly pulled out the paper from its dirty and crumpled envelope.
Deep breath, Amy, you can do this.
Ames,
I’m gonna start with the whole “if you’re reading this it means I’m dead” intro. It’s cliché as shit, but how else do you start one of these things? Fuck. I really hope you’re not reading this. I pray that one day when I get back from deployment and I’m in bed
with you we can burn this motherfucker together. But the best laid plans and all that.
So if you’re reading this, I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fuckin sorry I left you. Trust me, it had to be something big and bad to rip me away from the prospect of us. From you. I would have fought to my last breath against that reaper. Know that. In my last breaths, my last moments on this earth it would have been your face I saw. Your smile, your hair, the way you look after I kiss you. It would be your laugh in my ears, the sound you make when you’re frustrated, the first time you said you loved me. I would not have died happy, I tell you that. I woulda been pissed as hell. But I would have had those memories of you to make it that bit easier.
I’m sorry I didn’t quit when you asked me to. I’m so sorry I hurt you, sweetheart. The only regret I have in this world is not getting out of this place sooner. Of not doing it when you loved me. Only me. When the way you looked at me made me feel ten feet tall and the luckiest son of a bitch on this planet. But I didn’t. That’s on me. The hurt I put you through, that’s on me.
You falling in love with someone else, that’s on me too. Shit, that’s fucking hard to write. But it’s gotta be said. Cause I know you. I know you’re sitting there feeling guilty as fuck for letting someone else in, for loving someone else, even now that I’m gone and everyone’s expecting you to be mourning me for life. I’m telling you right now, cut that shit out. If I am gone, don’t you fucking dare screw up your chance at happiness cause of the shit swirling in that pretty head of yours. If you are, you can bet I’m up in heaven furious with you for that.
The thought of you with another man makes me want to punch a cinder brick wall. The thought of you unhappy makes me want to rip my own heart out. No matter what, I want you to be happy. When I come back to you I hope to god I can win you back. I hope you still look at me like I’m ten feet tall. But if you don’t, if you love this other guy more, if he’s what you want, I won’t stand in your way. I’ll fight for you, babe. To the end. But I’m also man enough to admit when I’ve lost.