Fourteen

Joel

“Y ou seen Ana today?” Skip climbs off his bike and throws his helmet down on the seat.

“Just about to send one of the prospects over to see how she’s settling in.” I take a drag on my cigarette.

Skip looks at me through narrowed eyes. “I want her under your watch, Joel.”

“And I’ve got way more important shit to be doing. Crap like that isn’t my responsibility, it’s a prospect’s job.” I throw the cigarette down on the ground and grind it into the concrete. “Jep’s on it. He’s a good kid, he’ll make sure she’s alright.”

Skip takes a step toward me, his eyes locked on mine. “She’s family now. My family. And if I tell you to look after her then I expect you to do just that, do you understand?”

“Seriously, Skip? You want me to waste time babysitting when we’ve got a fucking war to fight?”

“All I’m asking you to do is check in on her, make sure she’s okay, I’m not asking you to shadow her. Just let her know you’re there, if she needs you. Let her know we’re all there. It’s a simple fucking job, Joel.”

He walks away and I lean back against my bike, look up at the sky and sigh. Dag and Freja’s place is no more than a five minute ride from the clubhouse, and there’s not much going on here right now. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to pay her a quick visit.

She’s outside when I pull up onto the driveway, sitting on the steps of the porch nursing a mug of something, her expression indifferent when she looks at me, for a second, before diverting her gaze back out front. Dag and Freja live on a pretty, tree-lined street. Standard suburbia. A far cry from the clubhouse and compound they’ve both spent a good chunk of their lives in. Not so much now, but they’ll never be able to give it up for good. This life seeps so deep into you it’s impossible to let it go completely.

Laying my helmet down on the seat of my bike I make my way over to Ana, stopping at the bottom of the steps and leaning back against the railings.

“You okay?”

She nods, without looking at me. She keeps her gaze fixed out front.

“Settling in alright?”

Another nod. She’s determined she’s not going to give me much more, but I don’t give up that easily.

I sit down next to her, and even though I don’t touch her I can sense her body stiffen. She wants me to leave her alone, but I can’t do that.

“I’m not the enemy, Ana.”

She blinks a few times, raises her eyes to the sky, biting down on her lip before she looks at me again. And even though she’s trying to give off this brash exterior, the sadness inside of her is obvious.

“Why aren’t the police involved? Why aren’t they investigating my mama’s death?”

I drag a hand through my hair and take a deep breath. She was always going to ask questions, even though I think she already knows enough to be able to answer that one for herself. “You know why, Ana.”

“Shit like this, it gets dealt with in-house, huh? Is that it?”

She’s angry, and she has every right to be. But she’s going to have to find a way to deal with that anger, and accept what’s happening here.

“This world, Ana, it isn’t pretty. Its rules are brutal and fucked up but it’s the world we’re living in.”

“It doesn’t have to be my world,” she says, shifting her gaze to me. Her eyes lock on mine, and there’s an anger in hers that both surprises and shocks me.

“For now, it has to be. And believe me, Ana, we will deal with the Blackhawks. We’ll avenge your mama’s death, have no doubt about that.”

She turns her head away, lifts a hand and wipes her eyes with the back of it.

“You can go now,” she says, keeping her head turned away from me. “Tell Skip I’m fine. That’s why you came here, isn’t it?” Her eyes are back on me now. Eyes full of wariness and mistrust. “To check up on me?”

I raise my hands, leaning away from her slightly. “Hey. Don’t shoot the messenger.” I pull myself to my feet, climb up the steps, I give her what she so obviously wants. I’m leaving her alone.

Inside, Freja’s clearing the kitchen of breakfast debris, smiling as she catches sight of me.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asks brightly, which leads me to think she isn’t getting anywhere near as much of the cold shoulder from her house guest as the rest of us are.

I nod and lean back against the wall, turning my head to see Ana still sitting on the steps, still clutching her mug, eyes focused out ahead of her.

“She really okay?” I ask, taking the coffee Freja hands me.

Freja continues to wipe down countertops and stack dishes in the sink. “She’s as okay as you can expect her to be. She’s not sleeping, she’s barely eating, she’s spending far too much time alone.”

“Do you need something to give her, to help her sleep?”

Freja stops what she’s doing and turns around to face me. “I think we’ve shoved enough crap down that poor girl’s throat, don’t you? She needs to be cared for, that’s all. She needs to be allowed to grieve.”

I glance back over my shoulder, but Ana’s still sitting there. Still staring out ahead of her.

“We’re grateful, Freja, for all of this. For what you and Dag are doing.”

“It’s hardly a chore, Joel. God never saw fit to bless us with a child of our own, but, you know, maybe he played a part in making sure Ana came to us. I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “We all do.”

I should go. Get back to the compound. Ana’s fine, she’s okay, we can’t expect much more than that right now.

“It’s going to take time, Joel, before she starts trusting us.”

“I know.”

But she’s got a lot of that right now. Time. Is it going to be the great healer we’re all led to believe it can be? I hope so. Because she didn’t deserve any of this. None of what happened was her fault, it was just a tragic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was our fucked up world that changed her life, so maybe Skip’s right. We got a responsibility to Ana, and one that goes beyond making the Hawks pay for what they did. Our world may be fucked up but it’s the only one she’s got now, and we need to bring her into it. Get her used to living in it. Make her one of us, it’s the only option she has. We need to protect her. Keep her safe, and I know she’s going to fight us for a while. She’s going to make our job hard but, one day, she’ll see it was for the best. She’ll look back on this time and she’ll thank us. But until that happens, I’ll keep an eye on her. I’ll do that, for Skip, because he’s my brother.

Temporarily lost in thought, I didn’t hear Ana come into the kitchen. Didn’t feel her push past me.

“You still here?” she says as she puts her empty mug in the sink. I can hear Freja in the next room, talking to Dag, so it’s just me and Ana in the kitchen.

“I’m leaving.”

She turns around, leans back against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest in a manner very much designed to be defensive. But her eyes aren’t cold and hard, not anymore. They’re tired. Sad. Scared.

“Okay.” She shrugs, keeping her arms crossed, her eyes darting all around the kitchen. She can’t seem to focus on anything.

I frown slightly. She’s giving off a couple of mixed signals here. When I first arrived she couldn’t wait to get rid of me, and now I tell her I’m leaving she seems almost disappointed.

“You got any plans for today?” I ask, just to be friendly, really. The kid looks like she could do with the company. It’s easy to forget that, not only has she lost her mother, we also told her she can’t see her friends again. Can’t go back to her old life, Jesus, she’s grieving for all kinds of shit, and I can’t help but feel guilty about that. Like I said, she didn’t deserve any of this.

She doesn’t respond straightaway, she keeps her head turned away slightly, her gaze fixed on the window to her right, arms still crossed tightly against her chest. “What plans could I possibly have? I might as well be in prison. I can’t go anywhere, can’t do anything, can’t see my fucking friends…” When her eyes finally meet mine they’re alive, but not in a good way. They’re once more full of pain and anger and blame. And she deserves to feel all of those things, she does. She really does. But… nothing. She’s going to fight us, for a while, like I predicted. We’ve just got to give her time. Be patient.

“It’s for your own good, Ana. It might not seem that way right now but, in time, you’ll realize that we only did this to keep you safe.”

She holds my gaze. And the anger in her eyes subsides, but the pain remains, front and center.

“Whatever,” she murmurs, turning her head away from me again, and I’m taking that as my cue to leave. I’ve done enough. Done what I came here to do.

“It’s okay for me to come by the clubhouse, right?”

I’d almost made my escape, but I stop in the doorway and turn back around to face her.

“You need to make sure someone’s with you. Call first, we’ll get someone to come over. But, yeah, you can hang out at the clubhouse.”

“Okay.” She forces the smallest of smiles, but she doesn’t drop her arms. “Thanks.”

I shoot her a smile back, and then get out of there, with only the tiniest hint of guilt still gnawing away at me.