Twenty Nine

Twenty-Nine

Joel

“Y ou cook, huh?”

She turns around and rolls her eyes, flashing me a sarcastic smile. “I had a life before this one, remember? I used to cook for me and Mama all the time.” She turns her attention back to the eggs. “She worked hard. She was home late all the time, the least I could do was cook for her.”

I circle her waist and pull her back against me, leaning in to kiss her neck. “I’m sorry.”

She reaches up to cup my cheek and smiles again, catching my mouth in a quick kiss. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Go sit down. These eggs will be ready in a minute.”

I let her go and take a seat at the kitchen table. She stayed over last night, and yet, all we did was talk. We stayed up into the early hours, drinking beer and eating pizza and we talked, about her mama. About her old life. And it was both joyful and painful to watch her as she spoke of a world she was so cruelly wrenched away from. I didn’t sleep much, to be honest. Everything this young woman has been through: everything we put her through, it’s gut wrenching. And the fact she’s choosing to stay here, in this fucked up place, because she wants to be with me, that makes me both happy and nervous as hell. Because our life won’t be a simple one, and I think that’s something she deserves. A simple, calm, and beautiful life. I’m not sure I can give her that.

“What’s on your mind?” She lays a plate of eggs down in front of me and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I place my hand over hers and look up at her.

“Nothing. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Yeah. You look it. Maybe we shouldn’t have stayed up so late, huh?” She sits down too, picks up her mug and takes a sip of coffee.

“I’ve gone days without sleep, Ana. I’ll be fine.”

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, eating our eggs, the TV on low in the background.

“Listen, Ana, what you said to Skip…”

She sits back in her chair. “It needed to be said. Although, I’m sorry for dropping you in it.”

“You didn’t.”

She arches an eyebrow. “You sure about that? ’Cause he didn’t seem too happy that you’d told me he was thinking about leaving the club.”

“Yeah, well, under normal circumstances he’d probably have kicked my ass and then some, for doing that. But these aren’t normal circumstances. He cares about you. You matter to him, and that means he’ll listen to you. He loves you, Ana.”

“I know he does. But like I told him, that doesn’t give him the right to tell me how to live my life.” She holds my gaze, and I wish we were in a million other places rather than where we are right now, but we’re not. We’re here. And this shit is real. “Don’t tell me you actually think he’s right?”

“No, Ana, I don’t think that.”

“So, when you all told me you would keep me safe, you were lying, huh?” She crosses one leg over the other, her tanned skin exposed in denim shorts and a black T-shirt. “Because now you’re telling me that my staying here, it isn’t safe?”

“We didn’t lie. We just didn’t want you going out there on your own, after what had happened. We had no idea what was going to blow up, that’s why we kept you close. But nowhere is safe in this life, Ana. We can’t guarantee anything, I just need you to know that.”

“I know. I get it. I understand.”

She’s not the na?ve kid we all thought she was. So I believe her. “But there’s a part of me that’s scared you’re going to get hurt if you stay here. If you stay with me.”

“And everything will be perfect if I disappear into the sunset with Skip?” She leans forward, resting an elbow on the table, her chin in her upturned hand. “If you don’t want me around just tell me, Joel.”

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything before, but I’m terrified of losing her. The shit going on in my head right now is fucking real, and it’s killing me. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, Ana. You’re like this ray of sunshine that’s broken through the dark clouds and I’m not willing to give you up.”

She smiles, and when it reaches her eyes I feel my stomach somersault, and I don’t know what to do with these feelings. I don’t.

“Do you want some more eggs?” she asks, getting up and going over to the stove. “I can cook some more, if you’re hungry?”

“No, I’m good.” I get up too, go over to her, swing her around and into my arms, I just want to hold her. Feel her skin against mine. “This is all so new to me,” I murmur into her neck, breathing in her lemon-scented perfume. “Truth be told, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

She cups my face and smiles at me, kissing me quickly. “That makes two of us.”

“So we help each other, huh?”

She nods. “I think that sounds like a plan.”

We kiss, and every inch of me wants to scoop her up and take her to bed, but I need to be at the club. We need to try and work out what’s going down with Emil Renard, the man we think could be Ana’s father. And that’s another thing: keeping something from her that I think she deserves to know. It’s important. He’s doing this, to us, the club, for a reason, and I think it has something to do with Ana.

“I’ve gotta go,” I sigh, reluctantly pulling away from her.

She leans back against the counter, crosses her arms and cocks her head. “Is everything okay, Joel?”

I look at her, and I don’t want to lie to her, but sometimes, when it comes to club business, I have to. Need to. Because we could still be wrong.

“Everything’s fine. It’s just club business.”

She frowns. “Be careful. Please.”

I smile. Kiss her: fight every urge I have to stay here, with her, and fuck the club. But the club is my future. It could be hers, too. I need to stay focused. “I’m always careful, kiddo.” I grab my kut from the back of the chair and pull it on. And when I look at her again her expression is a mixture of worry and frustration.

“You got anything planned for today?”

“I’m going to the store. We’ve still got a lot to do before we can open, but, I thought I might go to the cemetery first. Visit Mama’s grave.” She looks up at me, and the pain in her eyes almost tears me apart. “Is that okay?”

“You’ve got your freedom now, Ana. You can go wherever you want to go.”

“Yeah. I guess I can.”

And that means there’s a part of me that’s terrified she’ll make the most of these new-found freedoms: that she’ll walk away from me, she could be playing a blinder of a game here, after all. It’s just, I don’t think that she is. I truly believe she wants to be with me.

“I’ll get some flowers on the way. Mama always used to love fresh flowers. Daisies were her favorite.”

I go back over to her, rest a hand on her hip as I slide my fingers into her hair. “Why did you do this, Ana? Why did you change yourself? Why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to,” she whispers, and there’s a hard edge to her eyes now. A slight coldness, and I have no idea how that makes me feel. “Stay safe, Joel. Please.”

I nod before I back away again, grab my phone, and leave.

Something feels different today. Like this is the first day of the rest of my life, and I smile to myself as I climb onto my bike and pull away. The first day of the rest of my life. Now all I have to do is make sure I don’t fuck it up.

Ana

Clutching a small bunch of daisies, I stop at the gates of the cemetery and take a second. I’ve never been here alone, since Mama died: since I found myself in this crazy, messed-up world. I haven’t been anywhere alone, not really. And it’s actually a little weird knowing I’m not being trailed or watched or… maybe I still am, I don’t know. I guess the paranoia is never going to go away.

It's a beautiful day today. The sun is shining, there’s barely a cloud in the sky, and I look up and smile and remember how, on days like this, when Mama would take a rare day off, we’d go into town and have lunch at a pavement café and people-watch for hours. We’d talk about music and fashion and I feel my stomach ache when I think back to those days. She never let me see how worried she really was, how much stress she was under, and I feel guilt and sadness swamp me, so much so that I have to lean back against a tree for a moment to catch my breath. I wish she’d told me. Maybe things could’ve been different. Maybe…

Clutching the daisies tighter, I finally make my way into the cemetery, walking slowly along the pathway that leads to the spot where my mama is buried. And I don’t even know if that was something she wanted – to be buried. It wasn’t something we’d ever talked about: death. Why would we have? I’d thought Mama was always going to be there, losing her wasn’t something I’d ever thought about.

I swallow hard and blink back tears as I approach the pretty little area where Mama’s body lies. And no matter what I think about the Vikings, they spared nothing when it came to getting her a beautiful headstone, which just serves to confuse me even more. What they are, and what they can sometimes be is jarring, which is why I often don’t know what to think. What to believe. And then I think back to that fateful night, when Mama was shot: what happened to me, and I know nothing good can come out of who those men are. There’s a level of evil that runs through all of them, there has to be, I can think of no other reason why anyone would choose to live this life. A life I’ve chosen to live…

I take another second. Another deep breath. And then I start to walk over to Mama’s grave, but as I catch sight of it, I stop. Because someone is already there. A man. He’s alone, crouching down, his head bowed. He’s dressed in a suit, so he’s not somebody from the club, maybe he’s a friend of Mama’s…?

I don’t know what to do, so I wait another couple of minutes: watch this stranger as he stands up, slides his hands into his pockets, his shoulders sagging. I start to walk toward him, and then he turns around, and I stop again. Should I be scared? There’s something about this stranger that unnerves me a little. But then his expression changes, and he smiles, he must be a friend of Mama’s.

“Are you… are you a friend of Sofia’s?” I ask, my fingers clinging even tighter onto the small bunch of daisies.

He doesn’t reply. He just keeps staring at me, which unnerves me even more, and now I’m wishing I was still being shadowed by club members. I’m wishing one of them was within shouting distance.

I turn back around without even thinking about it, I just want to get away. But then…

“Ana!”

How does he know my name? How…?

“Ana, please…”

I don’t want to stop, I want to keep on running, but for some reason I come to a standstill. But I keep my back to this man, my heart beating wildly, my breath catching in my throat as I feel for my phone. Why did I stop? I’m willing my legs to move again, to take me away from this situation but it’s like they’re suddenly made of lead. And I can hear him coming toward me, which causes my heart to beat even faster, it’s like I can’t breathe.

“Don’t be scared, Ana. I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

I close my eyes, say a silent prayer, clutching the daisies with one hand and my phone with the other. Is this it? Is this the danger Skip warned me about? Am I going to die, like Mama…?

“Ana…”

I slowly open my eyes. His voice is soft, there’s no hint of menace there. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t seeking to harm me.

“Look at me, Ana. Please. Look at me.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to turn around, don’t want to look at him, I just want to run, but if I do that: if I run, is he going to shoot me? Are there others waiting, somewhere, to grab me if I try to escape? My throat feels like it’s closing up, tightening to the point where I can’t breathe properly, and I know it’s a panic attack.

“Ana?”

My legs give way beneath me and I fall to the ground, or I almost do, because this stranger catches me before I hit the grass.

“Ana, are you alright?”

He’s got me. There’s nowhere to run now. No escape. So I keep my eyes closed and wait…

“Come on. I’m taking you someplace safe.”

And that’s when I find my voice. When I find my strength. When I fight to get away from him, but he’s too strong, too determined to keep hold of me.

“Ana, please, I’m not going to hurt you.”

I don’t believe him. I don’t. “Just let me go!”

But even I know that’s a weak and pointless protest. A request he’s not going to honor.

“Please, just let me go.” I hadn’t wanted to sound weak, but pleading with him might be the only way to go, because I’m scared. So scared. “Please.”

He pulls me to my feet, and the last thing I want to do is look at him but I can’t stop myself from doing just that. He doesn’t look like a biker, but that doesn’t mean he’s not part of a club. An associate. Someone the Hawks have called in to do their dirty work for them?

“What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, and I’m wishing with every fiber of my being that Joel or Jep or Kit, anyone from the club, I wish they were following me now. They’d help me. Save me…

The stranger steps back from me, sliding his hands into the pockets of his expensive suit pants. He’s dressed immaculately, his dark, gray-peppered hair styled in a neat crop, but there’s an aura around him I don’t trust. I still want to get away. I need to get away…

“I want to talk to you, Ana. And this isn’t exactly how I’d wanted this encounter to happen–”

“Who are you?”

He frowns, his eyes locked on mine, and then he smiles a slow smile and I feel my stomach drop. The fear isn’t subsiding, it’s getting stronger. It’s rising.

“Don’t be scared, Ana. I told you I’m not going to hurt you, and I mean that. I would never hurt you. You’re my daughter.”