Twelve

Joel

I don’t know how much of it she took in – the funeral. But we gave her mama a good send off. In the end, she was one of us. She was carrying Skip’s baby. Both of them killed by bastards we’ve vowed to take down, so she got the kind of goodbye she deserved. And Ana, she got through it on a cocktail of drugs and denial, clinging onto the hands of Freja and Elise throughout. She kept her head down, didn’t look up as Sofia’s coffin was lowered into the ground.

The police were there, of course they were. Watching us. Watching Ana. But we’ve got Rik on our side, and whatever shit he’s fed them, they seem to be keeping their distance now. It needs to stay that way. And Ana’s friends – Lars and Lea – they were there, too. Friends she claimed were like family, a family Ana could’ve remained a part of, if Sofia had died under less sinister circumstances. But we can’t let that happen, not now. Those friends of hers, they need to keep their distance, for their own good. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, and the last thing we want is for more innocent people to get hurt. So this is the way it has to be, and Ana will understand that. In time. And I’m not even sure she knew they were there, in all honesty. Her friends. We kept her away from them, made sure they didn’t come near her, it wouldn’t have done any of them any good. Everyone needs to move on. And Rik, he’s spoken to Lars and Lea. He’s told them all they need to know to make sure they give Ana space. Make sure they don’t contact her. Whatever relationship they all had, it’s over now. Just like her mama, Ana’s now one of us, whether she likes it or not. Skip’s made that decision, and the rest of us, we just have to run with that.

“Where is she?” Skip asks, leaning over the bar to grab a beer.

I jerk my head back. “In her room. But she can’t stay here forever. She’s got to have some place else to live, you thought about that yet?”

“Freja and Dag are taking her in. She’s gonna be the daughter they never had.”

“Everything’s worked out just fine then, huh?”

Skip eyes me warily. “You got a problem, Joel?”

“What exactly are we doing here, Skip? I mean, right now she’s dosed up to the eyeballs on tranquilizers but she’s got to come off those eventually ‘cause we got no time to be nursing any addiction. She’s got to come off that shit and start dealing with whatever world we seem hell bent on thrusting her into.”

“She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”

“That simple, huh?”

Skip’s expression is still wary, his eyes narrowed. “Again, you got a problem?”

“She’s just a kid.”

“She’s an adult. And yeah, she’s been through some tough shit, but all I’m trying to do here is look after her. Make sure she stays safe. That’s why Dag and Freja taking her in is the best option. They’ll take care of her, and believe me, Joel, that takes a huge weight off my shoulders.”

“If Ana’s that much of a problem why not just let her leave?”

“Because she’s Sofia’s daughter. She’s my family now, and I’m not letting her go. Sofia would want me to look after her, make sure she comes to no harm.” Skip takes a breath: runs a hand along the back of his neck. “She’s a beautiful kid, takes after her mama in that respect. And one day…” He drops his head, takes another breath, “those bastards out there, she’s gonna fall for one of them.” He looks at me, right into my eyes. “I’d rather that didn’t happen.”

“You’re kind of putting her right in the eye of the storm, don’t you think? Throwing her into this life.”

“You got any better ideas?”

“Jesus, Skip, it just seems so unfair. She didn’t ask for this. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“No. She doesn’t. But I need to make it up to her, not cast her aside, because that’s what we’d be doing if we just let her go. She has nothing now. She has no one.”

No. He’s wrong. She has people. We just can’t let her near them. Or won’t, I’m really not sure which one, in reality.

“And she blames me. Ana, she blames me – she blames this place, for Sofia’s death. If she hadn’t met me her mama would still be alive, that’s how she sees it.”

“And she’s not wrong, is she? You going to tell her about the baby?”

“Does she need to know?”

“I think she deserves to.”

“Telling her is only going to make her hate me more. So maybe she needs a distraction. Something to take her mind off all the bad shit.”

“While you avenge her mama’s death?”

“And the death of her brother or sister.” Skip’s eyes darken, his face a mask of pure hatred. “Never once have I ever even thought about having a family. I never wanted one, never needed one, until the chance to have one was fucking ripped away from me, so Ana – Ana is my family now, Joel. She’s all I have left of Sofia, so I want her kept safe. I want her protected. Nothing is going to happen to her, do you understand?”

“And that responsibility falls on me, huh?”

“It falls on all of us, Joel. But you – I’d trust you with my life. Now I’m trusting you with hers.”

I shake my head, this whole conversation just feels wrong. I’m a bad man, there’s no denying that, I’ve done some shit I’m not proud of, and some I’m never going to regret, it needed to be done. But, deep down, I’ve got a good heart. I care about those who deserve to be cared about, and yes, Ana deserves to be cared about. But this – this is something else.

“I get that she has to stay here, Skip, but does she really need a bodyguard?”

“Just keep her safe, Joel.” He downs a long draft of beer, and even though he’s always carried a kind of darkness around with him, there’s something very different about this man now. A man I’ve known for over two decades. And I get that he’s grieving, but Ana’s grieving too. Or she would be, if she came off the medication we’ve been feeding her long enough to feel anything. And I think Skip needs to talk to her. Ask her what she wants to do: help her deal with the loss of her mama. If he thinks of Ana as family now, he needs to start treating her as such.

I leave Skip at the bar and head out front. I need some air, even though we’ve been outside for the best part of the day. It’s starting to get dark now, and I sit down at one of the wooden trestle tables outside the clubhouse entrance and light up a joint.

“Can I try some of that?”

My head shoots around at the sound of her voice. Ana. She looks tired, but that isn’t surprising. Dressed in torn jeans, sneakers and a red and black plaid shirt that’s a couple of sizes too big for her, she seems pretty lucid, considering the amount of shit she’s taken today.

“Yeah. Sure.”

She sits down beside me and takes the joint, dragging deep, I’m guessing this isn’t the first time she’s done this.

“You okay?” I ask her as she hands the joint back to me.

She doesn’t answer at first, she looks away, over her shoulder, before facing me again. “Yeah, I’m okay. As okay as I can be.”

I take another drag on the joint and stare out ahead of me. “You know that everything we’re doing, it’s to protect you.”

She doesn’t respond to that, and I turn my head to look at her.

“We’re not total assholes, Ana.”

“I thought that’s exactly what you were.”

Her expression remains impassive for a second or two, before she smiles slightly. And I laugh, bowing my head for a couple of beats. “Maybe we are. When we need to be.” I raise my gaze to meet hers, taking a deep breath before I speak again. “Did you know your mama was pregnant? When she died?”

She keeps her eyes on mine, and it takes a moment or two before she slowly shakes her head, it’s like she’s working on some kind of satellite delay. And fuck Skip, this kid deserves to know the truth.

“Which is why Skip is even more hell bent on making sure those who killed your mama, and her baby: the men who hurt you, he won’t settle until they’re brought to justice.”

“What kind of justice?” she asks, her eyes still locked on mine. “You gonna kill them, too?”

“I’d say there was a pretty good chance that’s going to happen, yes.”

She breaks the stare. “Good.”

“They deserve it, right?”

She turns to face me again, her eyes narrowing. “You patronizing me?”

“Just making sure you understand what you’re saying. That you understand the kind of world you’re living in now.”

“Whether I like it or not, huh?”

I hand her the joint and she takes another deep drag.

“Shit happens, sweetheart.”

Her eyes are clear now. They’re not dead or clouded by all the crap we’ve been giving her. And the more I look into them, the more I realize Skip’s right. She’s fucking beautiful.

“An eye for an eye. Is that how it works?”

I let the corner of my mouth twist up into a smirk. “You already know the answer to that one, kiddo.”

She hands me back the joint and cocks her head slightly. “How old are you?”

“Older than you. That answer your question?”

She stays silent, her eyes searching my face, I don’t know what she’s looking for. And, yeah, I am older than her, but that means nothing. If I wanted her, I could have her, I just don’t think I do. Want her. And I don’t know why ’cause she is a walking wet dream. Maybe it’s the grief. Drugged-up and sad never was my thing.

“I’m tired,” she says, but she leaves it a couple of seconds before she once more breaks the stare. “It’s been a long day.”

She gets up, and I watch as she makes her way back into the clubhouse.

“Ana?”

She stops, turns back around, and when she looks at me this time I can’t fail but notice how young she really is. How tired she seems. How sad she still is.

“You need anything, you come to me , okay?”

She smiles slightly, gives me the smallest nod and then turns and goes back inside.

Back to a world that isn’t hers.

Wasn’t hers.

It is now…