He has large chocolate-brown couches set about the room with an open plan to it. The kitchen is off to my left with beautiful black granite counters. The thought strikes me that his place is a lot cleaner and tidier than I would have expected for a guy living alone.
“You’re awake.”
Spinning around with my hand clutched to my chest, I stare at Pope.
“Jesus, make a fucking noise or something. You nearly scared me to death.” The accusation flies from my lips.
Pope looks pained. “You did scare me to death.” He holds my gaze, and the torment in his eyes helps the memory my mind was fleeing from to come back instantly.
My sister is dead. Tears start streaming down my cheeks again as I stumble backward. Pope rushes toward me, wrapping me in his embrace. I bury my face against his chest and sob.
“She died and I never got the chance to make things right between us.”
Pope soothingly runs his hand up and down my back, trying to comfort me. He leads us toward the couch in his living room before taking a seat and pulling me into his lap. He doesn’t ask questions, simply holds me and lets me cry.
Sometime later after the tears have subsided and I have calmed down, I take a deep breath. Knowing me well enough, Pope reads this as his opening to ask me questions.
“Love, who died? What’s going on? You are freaking me the fuck out. I have no idea how to fix any of this and seeing you this way is driving me insane.”
Scanning his face, I see the worry and frustration. He has never been the type of person to just let something go. When Pope cares for you, he cares for life.
“Winter.”
The word leaves me on a whisper. My voice won’t cooperate, no matter how much I want it to.
“Winter died. Her lawyer called me to assist in the final arrangements. I don’t know anything other than she died.”
“Oh, love.” The emotion in his voice fills me with an ache for more than we can ever be. “I’m sorry that you’re going through this. You know that we are all here for you, me and the guys, and if you need anything, you only have to shout.”
“I need my phone. I need to call him back and find out what’s going on. There’s so much to do and I have to get started.”
Pope reaches into the inner pocket of his cut and hands me my phone. “Let me get you something to eat while you call him. Give you some privacy.”
His voice is pleading, as if me eating is something really important to him. Even though I’m not hungry in the slightest, I nod and move off his lap. I pull up the last number in my call log and dial.
“Murphy,” a gruff voice answers.
“Hi, this is Storm Lin. We spoke earlier in regards to my sister, Winter.”
“Yes, Miss Lin. Again, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But we need to discuss the arrangements.”
“Okay. But I have some questions before we move on.”
“Shoot. I will answer anything I have the information for.” His reply puts me at ease, but I only have one question.
“What happened?” The words sound weird but it’s hard talking while you are trying to keep a fresh batch of tears at bay.
“Yes, you are unaware of everything. Let me start by saying that I had known Winter for the last eight years, and I was well aware of the fact that the two of you were not on speaking terms. That said, she did put you in charge of her last arrangements. There is a will that will be read after the service as there are two other parties included.” Mr. Murphy takes a deep breath before continuing. “Winter got sick two years ago. Breast cancer. She started to make all the arrangements but didn’t want to contact and bother you. Although she went through all the therapy and had the heart to fight a war, she didn’t win the battle.”
Tears stream down my face and a hiccup escapes me.
“Let me get your email address, and I will email you all the information. If you could get down here by tomorrow or the day after, I will be able to assist you with all the arrangements.”
A moment of silence passes between us while I regain my composure.
“Where is here, Mr. Murphy?”
“Louisiana.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Re: The last letter of instruction
To whom it may concern
I, Winter Lin, being of sound mind leave the following directives in the case of my death. Please contact my sister, Storm Lin, in the case of my demise. I request that she is the person to handle all my affairs. Including my funeral, estate, and any other matters that may arise.
If she is unable or unwilling to accept the responsibility please contact Irene Willis. She is a dear friend and will be willing to perform the task if necessary.
This is not my last will and testament, which will be read after my funeral.
I would like to be buried in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where I have been living for the past eight years.
Thank you,
Winter Lin
Chapter Four
Pope
This is fucking horrible. I spent about six years in my youth in a relationship with Winter. And I know I should feel something akin to loss at this moment, but all I feel is the worry. Worry about Storm. She won’t eat anything and she wants to leave tonight. The drive to Baton Rouge is over five hundred miles and I won’t let her go alone, but I can’t go with her and I don’t have anyone I can spare. We have the gun run for McLaughlin tomorrow morning, and it’s something we can’t miss.
Following behind her as she heads downstairs, I try to reason with her.
“Please, let me do the run tomorrow and then we can leave tomorrow night. You can’t drive all the way alone. Not with the way you’re looking right now.”
She turns on her heel so fast I almost run into her. Hands on her hips and fire in her eyes, it’s the first sign of my Storm I’ve seen since she got the news.
“And what exactly do I look like, Colin?”
All the eyes in the clubhouse turn to us. No one calls me by my given name except my mother and although I love the way it sounds coming from her lips, now isn’t the time for her to be sassing me.
“Relax, love. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that you are emotional and haven’t eaten anything yet. You driving all that way by yourself is dangerous.”
She huffs at me and walks away again, making me follow her like a lost puppy. Abruptly, she stops and turns toward me.
“She was my sister and I will honor her last wishes. I will be heading to Baton Rouge as soon as I get a fucking car and there is not a damn thing you can do to stop me, so stop trying. All you’re doing is pissing me off.”
When she turns away from me again, I grab her arm and pull her back. She glares down at my hand, steps into my personal space, and stares up into my eyes.
“You are not my boyfriend, father, or even family. You aren’t my president, you aren’t even my boss. I left her. I didn’t fix it between us. This is my last chance to make amends. I left you both ten years ago and don’t for a second think because we are friends again that I need you. I will leave you behind me so fast you’ll wonder if I was ever here.”
Her voice is loud enough to carry clear across the clubhouse and I release her as if touching her burns my skin. Every word she said hit me like an arrow, none of them missing their mark on my heart. Behind me, I hear a woman gasp but don’t turn to see who it is. My temper spikes and the urge to hurt her with my words starts to overwhelm me. Before I can spew one word of poison in her direction, a small hand lands on my shoulder. Turning, I see Kaiya beside me.
“Mad Dog took me for my license last week. I’ll go with her. I can drive.”
Her gaze darts to Storm, who nods.
“You have five minutes to pack and then we’ll leave. Give me your car keys and I’ll wait outside.”
Storm takes the keys from Kaiya and heads outside without saying another word as Kaiya heads to her room to gather her shit, Mad Dog followin
g behind her. I’m bristling and boiling with the need to inflict damage. My ego is bruised and my heart is torn to shreds. Turning, I head to the bar counter, deciding to drink instead of doing or saying something I might regret later.
“Whiskey. Just give me the bottle,” I order Justice.
He doesn’t argue or ask me any questions. He simply reaches beneath the bar and hands me a bottle.
****
When I wake, I find myself on Wolf’s couch with a hangover from hell. I’m lying on a tan suede sectional with a large flat-screen mounted to the wall. The only light in the room comes from a floor-standing lamp at my feet. My shoes and socks have been removed and a comforter was thrown over me. Sitting up, I cup my face in my hands when I hear clothing rustle. Looking up, I spot Hadley curled up on a comfy-looking chair reading a book.
“You didn’t have to watch me.”
“Really?” She arches a brow at me. “Someone had to do it. Besides, last night, you declared me the only decent female on the planet beside your mother. You said that all women are succubi that want to rip men’s hearts from their chests and wither their souls. You’re quite poetic when you’re drunk out of your gourd.”
She tries to hide her smile as she says all of this.
“Damn, how much did I drink?” My skull throbs.
“About two bottles of whiskey and a ton of tequila shots. There are water and aspirin beside you for the hangover.”
“Dear Lord. Thank you for being an understanding woman.” My eyes are cast toward the ceiling as I mutter the words, “What happened last night?”
“Well, except for the drinking?” A laugh tinkles from her. “Not much. You played pool, arm-wrestled Viking because he said you had scrawny arms, and made me stop at the twenty-four-hour diner for greasy cheeseburgers on the way home. Which we both enjoyed immensely. Apparently, your drunk cravings and my pregnancy cravings are the same.”
Shaking my head, I laugh before gripping both sides of my throbbing skull.
“What time is it?”
“Just after four. This young lady is trying to kick her way out of me so I decided to read a book instead of keeping Wolf awake. But—” She hesitates while looking at me.
“Speak your mind, Hadley. You’re going to do it either way.”
“You know she didn’t mean it. The moment those words came out of her mouth. You know her better than I do and even I know she regrets it. It’s the grief. She had to inflict pain to try to lessen hers.”
Her face is stoic, giving away no emotion. This woman has adapted so well to us, knowing if she shows me any pity, I will shut down and the conversation will be over.
“You’re right, and I know you’re right. But that doesn’t take the sting away or soothe my bruised ego. Maybe when she gets back, I’ll be over it. I sure hope so.” Looking away, I grab the aspirin and water and swallow them down.
“So, we had an amazing conversation last night.”
Looking at her again, I can see her trying to hide a smirk. Dear Lord, what did I say?
With the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face, she drops a bomb on me.
“Are you still going to tell her that you’ve been in love with her since you were a kid?”
Chapter Five
Storm
Driving with Kaiya is an interesting experience. She doesn’t talk or ask questions or pry at all. She does, however, sing along to every country song that plays. I never would have figured her to be a lover of country music, but she knows all the songs by heart.
About two hours into our eight-hour drive, she pulls up to a gas station. Kaiya gets out of the car, fills up the gas tank, and proceeds into the store. We haven’t spoken one word.
When she gets back in the car, she puts two full bags in my lap before driving away.
“And this?”
“Can’t have a road trip without munchies.” She smiles at me quickly then turns her attention back to the road. “I know this is not a road trip and it’s a sad time for you, but it’s my first time out of the state. I’ve never driven further than from the grocery store close to the clubhouse and I always have Mad Dog in the car with me watching everything I do.”
“Oh, Kaiya, I keep forgetting that you are experiencing a bunch of firsts with us. I never even thought about it that way.”
She waves her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t even worry about it. But I do have an idea?”
“Okay.” I don’t know whether I have to be wary of what she is about to say or not.
“You’re sad and that makes sense from what little I heard back at the club. Sorry. But we could take your mind off of it. I mean, let’s pretend, just for a little while before we reach Baton Rouge and everything gets dark and sad again, that we are just two girlfriends driving across state lines for a road trip?”
“You know what, Kaiya, I think that’s an amazing idea!”
For the first time since I got the news, I feel something other than utter despair.
“What kind of snacks did you get?” I ask while rummaging through the bags.
****
The rest of our drive is spent talking about nonsense. What kind of snacks are our favorites, what kind of music we like and hate and even movies and TV series we like. Kaiya and I have a lot more in common than I initially thought we would. After jumping on my phone and ignoring my messages, I search for a breakfast place in Baton Rouge. We watch the sunrise over the Red River while sitting on the hood of her car, eating a greasy breakfast burger we picked up along the way.
Looking out over the water, I steel myself for what is to come today. After finishing our breakfast, we book into a motel and grab a quick shower before heading out to see Mr. Murphy.
My first impression of him is mixed. He’s an older gentleman who has a look that might have had the ladies falling over him in his youth. Dark hair and bright-blue eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a good physique for someone I’m assuming is in his late forties or early fifties. Although he looks attractive enough, he has a way about him that gives him an unapproachable air.
“Miss Lin. Sorry to meet under these circumstances.” He shakes my hand firmly. “Let us get down to it.”
He isn’t one for idle chitchat and works through everything quite quickly. We meet the funeral director, pick out a coffin, and even get all the arrangements set for the wake. The funeral will take place the day after tomorrow and her testament will be read later that evening.
****
The funeral is a beautiful gathering. A lot of people are there to pay their last respects and most of them are friendly and supportive. One woman, though, is distant and standoffish. With her son at her side, they are stoic throughout the proceedings, although I do see the boy wipe away a single errant tear.
After the funeral, everyone gathers per Winter’s request at a local pub to enjoy a drink and toast to her memory instead of only being able to mourn her loss. People are constantly giving their condolences and it is a whirlwind of activity. I watch most of the people approach the young woman and her son to pay their condolences as well, and I assume they were close to my sister.
By the end of the entire affair, I am bone-weary and want nothing more than to head home. The last couple of days have given me a lot of time to think things through. I have started to type messages to Pope at least ten times a day to apologize for my horrendous behavior the night we left, but I think that maybe I should apologize in person. And I will be apologizing. Life is too short to live it angry or with regrets, so when we get home, I am going to beg for forgiveness and then I am going to tell him how I feel. Put my heart on the line again and hope for the best.
When we walk into Mr. Murphy’s office for the will reading, the young woman and her son are already seated.
“Have you all been introduced yet?” Mr. Murphy asks.
“Not formally,” the woman replies.
“Okay. Storm, this is Irene and Brogan. Irene, Brogan, this is Winter’s sister Storm and her fr
iend Kaiya.” He nods his head before pulling out a thick folder.
“Storm, this letter is for you, which you must read, and then I can continue with the proceedings.” He hands me a sealed envelope.
My heartbeats escalate as I consider what could be inside. The weight of it should feel like nothing but instead, it feels like a ton. As I look at the people around me, I find all their gazes glued to me. Slowly, I slip my nail into the lip and open the envelope, retrieving the letter.
Upon seeing Winter’s handwriting, the tears already start to flow down my cheeks.
My dearest Storm,
Today I got the news that I have breast cancer and it is one of the top three aggressive types. Although we haven’t spoken in many years, you are the only person that I want to talk to. I know that we have had our differences but you will always be my little sister. The love I have for you will never change no matter the miles or the years. About six months ago, I had a private investigator seek you out. He found you and wanted to initiate contact, but I asked him to wait. Upon seeing the photos of you, I knew I was right. I am glad that you and Colin have found each other all these years later. I never told you, but even as children, I always knew you were meant to be together. Perhaps if I had said something all those years ago there would have never been a rift between us.
You truly look happy in the photographs and I wish nothing but the best for you both. If you are reading this, you have agreed to be the person who handles my final affairs and I’m grateful for that. In this room with you are two of the most important people in my life. My dear friend Irene who has been part of my life since just after you left. She is the closest thing I have to family beside you and has been with me through thick and thin these last years.
With her is a young boy named Brogan, he is seven years old and is my son. He is also Colin’s son. I know that this might be uncomfortable for you, but I want you to raise him, introduce him to his father. If that isn’t something you want to do, please just tell Mr. Murphy you can’t accept the gift and he will leave with Irene.
The Pope Page 2