20. Trick

Istare at the closed door to mine and Mara’s bedroom. I still haven’t set foot inside, but it’s been almost sixteen months since my wife died, and it’s past time to sort through her belongings. My hand pauses over the door handle, willing my body to push it down. You can do this. It’s just a room.

Taking a deep breath, I push inside. I’m not sure what I expect to see, but the space is exactly as it was the day she died. I wait to feel that sharp stab of pain, but it doesn’t come. What I feel is sadness. Mara’s life was wasted, cut short when she had so much more to give.

I step farther into the room, my gaze roaming around. This is the last thing I need to do to truly bury my wife and my grief. I start with her drawers, pulling each one out and piling clothes onto the bed. I keep some things, mostly for Sophia, but the rest will go to a charity that my late wife supported. It’s bittersweet, going through her things. In many ways, it gives me closure that I didn’t expect. Mara was more than her belongings, and I don’t know why I left it so long to clear her things.

“Are you okay?”

Heidi’s voice from the doorway has me twisting to glance over my shoulder. She is holding my daughter in her arms, and the concern on her face slices through me. I see the care and love she has for me, and not a hint of upset or jealousy that I’m in this room doing this.

“It’s time,” I say, shifting my shoulders as I do. “Way past time.”

She doesn’t step into the room. I wonder if it’s because I’ve made this into some kind of sanctuary.

I gesture for her to come to me, and she hesitantly steps over the threshold. Her eyes roll around the space, and I see the sadness as she takes in the things that belonged to Mara.

“It seems wrong that she’s no longer here,” she remarks.

It does, but rarely is life ever fair. I reach for my daughter, and Heidi hands her over without question.

Settling Sophia on my lap, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. “She’d hate that we kept this room like some kind of weird shrine.”

“She would.” Her expression morphs into something sombre that has me reaching for her hand and pulling her towards me.

I’ve been busy the last week, but I haven’t missed the fact that Heidi looks tired. Her skin seems too pale, and the last two nights I’ve found her asleep in our bed with Sophia. I don’t know if it’s the toll of everything catching up with her, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask her.

She seems surprised by the question, her fingers tightening in mine. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

I search her face, trying to discover if she is lying to me or hiding something. I’d like to think we are past that, but I also know old habits die hard. She’s not used to having someone to confide in, but I want her to know I’m someone she can rely on. “Really?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something. I just feel exhausted this week.”

I frown, scanning her face as if I can figure out what’s wrong with her, but other than being tired, she seems like her usual self. “You want to see the doctor?”

She snorts, as if I said the funniest thing in the world. “I’m still not convinced he’s not a vet.”

My lips quirk at the corners, and I’m not sure why she’s hung up on this. “I promise, the man has a medical degree.”

“I do have my own doctor, you know?”

I lift her hand to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Then make an appointment.”

I wait for the argument I expect to come, but she doesn’t give one, which sends a little slither of unease through me. She must be feeling unwell. “You want me to help you with this?”

I shake my head, not because I don’t want her help but because I want her to rest. “I got this.”

For the next three hours, I go through as much as I can. It is both cathartic and also painful to wipe Mara’s presence from the bedroom, but this room is double the size of Sophia’s. It makes more sense for her to be in this space, especially now she’s getting older.

Leaving the door open, I head downstairs and find Sophia playing on the living room floor. Heidi is sitting on the sofa, but her head is resting on her upturned hand and her eyes are closed.

I sit on the edge of the sofa next to her, and the movement of the cushions has her eyes opening. “Are you done?” she asks, sitting up, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah, just about. I think we should move Sophia into that room.”

For a moment, she says nothing, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “It’s your house, Trick. Whatever you want to do is fine.”

“Our house. You live here too, and you also have a say in where Soph sleeps.”

She leans against me, her arm wrapping around my middle. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

I consider her words, warmed by how considerate she’s being. There’s not a hint of jealousy about living in the shadow of a dead woman. “I’m ready. Should have done it a long time ago.” I press a kiss into her hair, holding her tight against me. This here is a second chance, and not one I deserve, but I’m going to take it anyway.

For a while, we sit together, her leaning against me, my arm wrapped around her. The moment is only broken by my phone buzzing. Shit. I struggle to get it out of my pocket, and when I do, all I see is one message from Howler.

Howler:We have a lead on Richardson.

I sit up straight, and she comes with me, tension in her body. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go. We’ve got intel on Richardson.”

Her expression morphs into concern. “Be careful,” she says, and I kiss her deeply.

“Always.”

The ride over to the clubhouse feels as if it takes forever, and when I arrive, I sense the tension in the room immediately. Rage looks ready to unleash, and I don’t blame him for that. He has to protect his old lady and child, and I understand the strain of that. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my daughter and Heidi safe.

It takes what seems like too long for everyone to be ready to ride, and by the time I get on my bike, I’m twitchy with anticipation.

We leave some brothers behind to protect the clubhouse, and I know how fortunate I am to be invited along, considering my status in the club.

Our destination is on the outskirts of Birmingham, where we meet some of the brothers from that chapter as well as the Fraser brothers. Nicky is among them, the Birmingham chapter’s Sergeant at Arms. He, like the rest of us, has a stake in this. His chapter has been plagued by Richardson and the Pioneers for years. Richardson is about to have a bad day—everybody wants a piece of him and his fucking soldiers.

We park up the bikes, and my helmet is off before anyone else’s. I’m eager to get inside and get this done. I want to make that cunt suffer for every evil he has paid on our club.

Howler walks over to me. “I need to know that you’re gonna remain fucking calm with this. No heroics.”

“I got stuff to live for, Howler. I’m not planning on dying here.”

He scans my face as if trying to see the truth in my words. Finally, he says, “Be careful in there.”

“You, too.”

We split into teams, circling the building before breaching it. It’s off the beaten path at the end of an industrial estate that looks disused. From the looks of things, no one has operated in any of these buildings for years. It’s the perfect hiding place for someone like Richardson to lick his wounds and regroup.

It’s also the place he’s going to die.

As we enter the building, I keep close to Lucas Fraser and Blackjack. The gun in my hand is heavy, and while I’m a good shot, I’m far better at using knives.

The building smells musty, damp too, and the stench fucking sears the hairs inside my nose, forcing me to breathe through my mouth.

Moving slowly to ensure our footfalls are not echoing around the empty space, I keep my eyes peeled for any danger while protecting my friends’ backs.

As we move through the building, there are signs someone has been living here for quite some time, but we don’t come across anyone.

Spreading out, we move through the building, and as I round a corner, we step into a large room at the same time as Howler and the others.

“Ain’t anyone here,” Rage growls in frustration.

I understand it. I feel the same. “They can’t have left that long ago,” Nicky says. “I say we wait for them to come back.”

“Fuck!” Howler yells, losing his shit for the first time. He kicks a nearby stack of boxes, scattering them across the floor.

It tears me apart to see our usually immovable president struggling to keep a hold on his emotions.

“This fucking prick! He needs to die,” he snaps. “I’m fucking tired of chasing our tails.”

We all agree on that.

“Leave some men behind in case they come back,” Blackjack says to Nicky. “See if Crank will spare anyone else.”

He nods. “I’ll let you know if they turn up. These Pioneer fuckers have been nothing but trouble from the moment they surfaced.”

The ride back is a sombre one. I feel deflated, like this is never going to end. How can I create a safe place for my family when the shit is still hanging over us?

I don’t follow my brothers back to the clubhouse, instead making my way home. Something urges me to go there, and not just because I’m still worried about Heidi. It’s like a sixth sense, a gut feeling I need to be there.

When I pull the bike onto the driveway, I notice the van sitting across the road but I don’t see the prospect inside it. That is the first thing that sets alarm bells ringing in my head. I pull my helmet off, glancing up at the house, my senses tingling.

Something is wrong.

Tearing my gloves off, I fire a message off to Prez and then I head inside.