Prosper (Hells Saints MC Book 7)

by Paula Marinaro

  “But when it’s over, when that poor, poor woman is dead and gone … maybe …”

  “Maybe what? You think he’s going to magically see you with new eyes? Honey, for the rest of Prosper’s life he will associate you with the bad that made him need you in the first place. Moments in bed with you will all be tied up in his mind with moments of Maggie’s illness. And we haven’t even talked about the guilt he’ll feel when he thinks about whose bed he was in when she was dying.”

  “Oh, my god.” Pinky covered her face with her hands.

  Dolly knew this was a hard thing for Pinky to hear, and Dolly knew that she was hurting her. She also knew that Pinky was desperately, irrevocably, and deeply in love with Prosper. Pinky loved Prosper in every way a woman could love a man, which is exactly why this had to stop. Now.

  “Honey, this is going to end soon, for everyone.”

  “As soon as Maggie is gone then Prosper will leave and I’ll never see him again.” Pinky cried.

  Dolly contemplated for a moment. “The way I see it, you still might have a chance to stop from losing him forever—if you want one.”

  “More than anything.” Pinky didn’t even hesitate. In her heart, in her mind, in every part of her being, and despite everything that had brought them to this point, Pinky felt sure that she and Prosper were meant to be together.

  Dolly nodded. “Then you have to finish this now.”

  “How in the world will that help? How is he going to get through it all without me?”

  “Don’t overestimate your role in this, honey,” Dolly said with infinite kindness. “Like you said, he’ll be gone as soon as she is. He’ll get on that bike and ride out all those bad memories and you don’t want to be a part of that. You leave him now, he’ll remember you as warmth and comfort and a sweet, sweet port in the worst storm of his life.”

  “And if I see it through to the end with him, that will be the end of us too?”

  “I think so, I think it will be.”

  “Pinky?” Prosper’s voice cut sharply into her thoughts and sent her tumbling back to the now as his big shoulders filled the doorway.

  He was a hard, tough man and nothing would ever change that. But Pinky had spent a whole lot of time studying Prosper’s body.

  Thinking about it. Dreaming about it.

  She knew his body better than she knew her own. And she also knew that he was in rough shape this morning. His skin had a grayish tinge to it, his normally ramrod-straight spine was bent, and his shoulders slumped with the weight of what had happened the night before. His dark eyes were filled with a sorrowful apology.

  “I … I think when we were … I, uh”—Prosper scrubbed a hand through his hair—“think I might have …”

  “You did.” Pinky forced the words out because she knew he couldn’t. And because she knew it had to be said. “You called out her name. You called out for Maggie when you were inside of me.”

  “I am so, so sorry,” Prosper rasped out. He leaned against the doorjamb as if standing had suddenly become too difficult, the weight of her words crushing him.

  The thought of what she was about to do made her sick with remorse, regret, and shame. But she was going to do it anyway, because last night when Prosper had called out Maggie’s name, what was left of Pinky’s fragile heart burst apart with such complete and utter devastation that it had caused her physical pain.

  “I think it’s time we’re honest with each other, Prosper. We both know this has never been about me.” Pinky looked him straight in the eye and then nodded to the cup she had put out on the table. “Fix your coffee and we can have that talk we should’ve had weeks ago.”

  Once Pinky opened that door it was like a floodgate for Prosper. He told her all about Maggie, all about his feelings for her, his deep friendship with Jack and how difficult that had been for him. Prosper was honest and open and spared her no detail. His words, though hard to hear, were filled with such a deep yearning and complete love, and so much ragged emotion that it left no doubt in Pinky’s mind just how much Prosper Worthington loved Magaskawee Whitefeather. And how much Maggie loved him back.

  “I love you,” Pinky began quietly.

  “Pinky …”

  Pinky continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I love you … and you love her.”

  “Honey …” Prosper reached out to her.

  Pinky pulled her hand back from his. The movement was more difficult than she could have imagined. Pinky harnessed in all of her courage and spoke on, “Prosper, it hurts me to see you in so much pain. I would do anything, anything to spare you that kind of sorrow. I love you and if I could change places with Maggie, I would. I swear to god that I would.”

  “Pinky, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”

  “But I can’t,” Pinky went on bravely. “And I can’t be a substitute for Maggie, Prosper. You coming here like this is cheating us all. I would do anything for you, Prosper. Anything. But I can’t do that. I can’t be that.”

  “I’m not asking you to be a substitute for anyone. Don’t say any more. I don’t want to hear this,” he growled out in a fear-driven anger.

  “I can’t do it anymore, Prosper.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Prosper’s eyes glittered with pent-up emotion.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it fucking matters. What the hell is this? You punishing me for last night? I just bled my heart out to you and you’re using it against me. Who the fuck does that? Who does that?” Prosper’s face contorted in pain.

  Pinky couldn’t stop the tears from running down her cheeks.

  ”Goddamn it, honey, don’t cry. I don’t want to make you cry.” Prosper’s voice was filled with heartbreaking remorse. “It’s just that … I can’t lose you, Pinky. I can’t lose you too.”

  Pinky straightened her spine and wiped her tears away with a trembling hand.

  “If after … if when Maggie’s gone?” As soon as Pinky saw Prosper flinch at the words, she knew for sure that Dolly had been right. Pinky had to let him go or forevermore be associated with the worst event of his life. “If you find you have anything left to give, I’ll take it. No matter how much, no matter how little, I will take it and cherish it for the rest of my life. But unless and until that day comes, you can’t come here anymore. You’re not welcome here anymore. Not in my bed, not in my heart, not in my home.”

  There was nothing more to say, so Prosper said nothing.

  Pinky watched as he walked out without looking back.

  Then Pinky closed the door behind him and locked it.

  They buried Maggie a week later on a sunny hill at the edge of a small cemetery where wildflowers grew and birds made their nests in the strong branches of a large oak tree. After a long brother-to-brother talk with Jack, Prosper kept his promise to Maggie and did not take the girls from their father. What he did do was leave a small crew from the MC at the garage to keep an eye on Jack and make sure he was doing what he needed to do to take care of Maggie’s girls.

  Then Prosper left. He took off on his bike and rode and rode and rode for months on end. Those times that had become so precious to him meant nothing to him now. He survived in a vacuum of time and space and deep, deep grief. It took a long while for him to work out the rage and despair. But after too many barroom brawls, drunken nights, and coked-out days, Prosper was finally able to see his way through to the other side.

  And when he did, he found his way back to Pinky.

  And just like she had promised, Pinky greeted Prosper with arms wide open.

  “And that’s the end of it.” Prosper scrubbed a hard hand over his jaw. “I think this calls for another damn brew.”

  “Sure thing.” Pinky agreed without hesitation. Because really, this was not the time to deny a man a beer. In telling the tale, Prosper had relived the most painful part of his life and his strong back was slumped by the weight of it all.

  A part of Pinky had always known that Claire was Prosper’s daughter. She had kno
wn it in the way you know which card is next in the deck or who’s on the telephone before it rings.

  Pinky just knew.

  “How did we end up at the lake house with you that summer?” asked Claire, who had been listening with rapt attention to every word.

  “I’m done. Conversation for another time.” Prosper’s word signaled the end of the discussion.

  “You can’t just be done …” Claire protested.

  “I can and I am. I’m damn exhausted.” Prosper leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

  Claire looked at Pinky for help. But Pinky knew that her husband was at the end of his emotional rope. She also knew that Claire had come to Pinky’s home looking for the truth and Pinky was gonna make damn sure she got it.

  “You don’t remember?” Pinky asked Claire. “You don’t remember what happened? Why Prosper came to get you and Raine? Why he brought you to the lake house?”

  Claire shrugged. “No, I don’t. I guess I really never thought about it, either. I remember bits and pieces but nothing real concrete. I remember being at the lake house, I’m just not quite sure how we got there.”

  “Try and remember, honey.”

  “Pinky …” Prosper growled out a low warning.

  “It’s time, Prosper. Claire needs to know the truth and we’re gonna tell her.” Pinky turned away from Prosper and looked at Claire.

  “Tell me the bits you remember.”

  “I remember being hungry.” Claire chewed her lip in thought. “And I remember Raine pouring us out some cereal. I remember running away from her because I didn’t want her to brush my hair. For some reason it hurt, it must have been in tangles. I remember that somehow Prosper was there, too, but he didn’t stay. He put us in the car and when I woke up, we were at the lake house.” Then she paused. “But I don’t remember Jack … I don’t remember our father being there. Where was Jack in all this?”

  “Jack was in the goddamn barn trying to hang himself.” Prosper opened his eyes. Then he leaned forward with his hands on his knees.

  “What?” Claire looked confused. “What did you say? He was where?”

  “Jack left you and Raine alone while he got totally shitfaced drunk. Then he went to the barn, put a rope around his neck, and tried to off himself. And the only reason why he failed was because the stupid ass misjudged the goddamn distance from the stool to the floor.”

  “But why weren’t you with us? How did you let this happen?”

  “After your mother died, Prosper went through a hard time himself, honey,” Pinky told her. “You’re right, this never should have happened, but it wasn’t Prosper’s fault that it did.”

  Prosper sighed. “I left not long after Maggie died. I hit the road to ease that pain. If I hadn’t, I would have ended up right next to Jack with that rope around my neck. Only I wouldn’t have fucked it up like he did. But I had a whole crew of guys looking out for you. I had some of the brothers from the club stay behind and watch after you and Raine. They kept an eye on Jack and an eye on you. They worked at a car repair shop we owned at the time. It was a bullshit job mostly just to keep Jack busy and out of trouble Then there was an oil fire at the shop. It wasn’t too bad, but it was bad enough that the fire trucks had to come and put it out. Big damn mess all around. The guys were busy with the cleanup and it was a couple of days before they realized Jack hadn’t shown up for work. They went out to the house and found Jack dead drunk with a bottle in his hand and a hangman’s noose around his neck.” Prosper shook his head in anger. “Stupid fuck couldn’t even hang himself right.”

  “So, they called you.” Claire surmised. “That’s how you knew to come get us.”

  “That’s right, honey. One of the boys called us,” Pinky chimed in. “Prosper had just been back a couple of weeks and we had moved up to the lake house together. Prosper set out to bring you and Raine back as soon as he hung up the phone. He was so angry I thought that he was going to finish the job that Jack had started. So I called ahead to the garage.”

  Prosper snorted. “Gonna tell her you lied?”

  “Lied about what?” Claire asked wide eyed.

  “Well, I might have told a tiny white lie about Prosper giving the boys orders to get Jack to the hospital.”

  “So you lied about that order so when Prosper came to get us, he wouldn’t kill Jack?”

  “That was first on the list. But it was also a way of getting Jack the help he so desperately needed,” Pinky told her. “So, the boys brought him to the hospital, noose and all. Jack was immediately admitted to a psych ward and then drug rehab. Jack needed both, the counseling and a way to deal with his addictions.”

  “So, when we were with you at the lake house, Jack was in a rehab?”

  “That’s right, honey.” Pinky continued, “In the meantime, Prosper petitioned for temporary custody. When Jack was moved to out-patient status, the first thing he did was try to come see you and Raine. Prosper was carrying a baseball bat when he met Jack at the end of the driveway. He was still that mad. But Jack and Prosper had been friends such a long time, and they had been through hell and back together. They talked it out. Jack agreed to sign off for Prosper to talk to his counselors, and Prosper agreed that Jack could have supervised visits with you and Raine. Jack did all the hard work that it took to get himself sober. He wanted you and Raine back. In his way, he loved you both so much. And that had been your mother’s final request. She made Prosper promise not to separate you and Raine from your fa— from Jack.”

  “So, you had to give us back,” Claire said with understanding.

  “Yes, honey. We had to give you back.”

  There was a heavy silence as each of them was lost in his own thought.

  “Okay, I understand. I do. But there is still the question of those blood tests.” Claire looked at Prosper.

  “So, the dates, the time that you and my mom spent alone together …”

  Prosper nodded. “Yeah, they all add up, darlin’. And before we go any further with this, I want you to know that I have never thought of you or Raine as anything but mine. So, to me a blood test doesn’t mean shit. I’m your father in every sense of the word. But I know how much this means to you, so let’s get right down to it. My blood type is AB.”

  “A perfect match,” Claire whispered out.

  And then she smiled.

  “I can’t believe they’re still coming.” Raine shook her head as she watched the bikers ride up the road to the clubhouse. Then her eyes widened. “And they’re not even our boys. I don’t know if this was a good idea, Diego.”

  “It was P.J.’s first executive call to make, and he made it.” Diego draped his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

  Raine leaned against Diego’s chest. “Do you ever regret not having a boy to hand the reins over to?”

  Diego chuckled “Six girls. It’s not like we didn’t try. But if you want to try one more time, I’m game.”

  Raine laughed. “That ship has sailed and been replaced with hot flashes. I’m afraid the baby factory is closed.”

  “And been replaced by a playground,” Diego whispered devilishly to his wife as he brushed his hand against her breast.

  “Oh, for shit’s sake, hasn’t anybody told you that you two are too old for that now?” Reno called out in mock disgust as he and Claire entered the room. Now the four of them were looking out the window at the constant stream of bikers coming up the road.

  Claire bit down on her lip and echoed her sister’s concern. “I hope P.J. knows what he’s doing letting all these clubs in.”

  Claire had been reticent all along about her son joining the Hell Saints MC, and here he was in his mid-twenties and the club’s president. Claire sighed. Well, that’s what she got for naming her son after Prosper. Between his father and grandfather’s genes, Prosper Junior had so much pure testosterone running through his veins that he never stood a chance of becoming anything but a Saint. From the time he was a little boy, all P.J. wanted t
o do was tag along with his daddy, his grandpa, and his uncles. Right after his high school graduation, he’d prospected for the club and a year later he was patched in. Diego had taken over the role of presidency after Derringer Gage was killed in a motorcycle accident. Once Diego decided to retire his patch, P.J. was the logical and best choice. Sadly, just months after P.J. had been voted in as president, his grandfather had suffered a third and final heart attack and passed away. When word spread that the formidable octogenarian was gone, clubs from all over the world had sent their condolences.

  P.J., who had his own vision for the club, decided to take this opportunity to both honor his grandfather and bring the clubs together on a worldwide scale. He extended an invitation to engage these MCs towards a temporary truce. Each club was invited to send an unarmed, five-man contingency to the funeral of Prosper Worthington. Their safety at the two-day ceremony was guaranteed by the HSMC. The response was more than any of them could have imagined. Along with all of the Saints’ own chapters in full attendance, the count of bikers camping out on the compound’s lawns numbered over a thousand, and they were still coming.

  “I wish that Pinky and Prosper could see this,” Claire said. “It’s such an incredible turn out. The girls did a great job making sure everything was set up and waiting, too. Are Crow and Melissa here yet?”

  “Yeah, but they decided to wait at the lake house for Willow and Jet. Willow’s morning sickness is pretty bad so they held off until this afternoon to head out,” Raine answered. Then she looked at her watch. “They should be arriving anytime now. I’m gonna head on back home. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  The next morning at the funeral home, the closest friends and the family of Prosper Worthington gathered together for a private farewell before the public memorial service. Raine stood just outside the viewing room and watched as the people she loved most in the world bid hello to each other and goodbye to the man whose strength, love, and guiding wisdom had helped to shape their lives.