But the loft stayed silent, and I was glad. I hardly knew how to do something normal like celebrate a birthday with Bailey or my family. I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to get my head around doing it with the Butchers, three men who’d been strangers just a few weeks before and who were now… what?
Lovers? I couldn’t think of them like that, but friends didn’t feel right either.
What did you call it when someone knew what you wanted even when you didn’t? What did you call it when they knew you well enough to know that you wanted some kind of gesture on your birthday but not a fussy one?
I closed the box without removing the necklace, picked up the note, and headed for my room, the bottle of water forgotten.
A flush spread through my chest, my body warm while my mind whirled.
I tried not to think about the necklace while I got ready for bed. It was too confusing the way my chest felt all soft and squishy while my mind screamed,What the fuck are you doing?!
Get a grip, M. It’s a present. Enjoy it.
Easy for you to say. Things are simple for you. You’re dead.
She didn’t answer right away, and I thought maybe I’d pissed her off, but when I crawled into bed and turned out the light, I heard her voice again.
You’re right, I am dead. But you’re not.
64
REMY
The biker bar technically called Screamin’Syd’s was known by every biker in a two-hundred-mile radius as simply Syd’s. Members of the Blades and Barbarians MCs hung out there on the regular, and it had become a destination for bikers from other towns looking for a scenic ride with good food and beer at the end of it.
Bram was polishing off a Snickers when we rolled up on a Wednesday afternoon, and I frowned at him as we got out of the Hummer.
“Maeve’s desserts would be better for you than that processed shit.”
He threw the wrapper in the trash on our way inside. “Mind your own business.”
“I’m just saying.” Stubborn motherfucker.
“Well, don’t,” he said, as the door swung shut behind us.
We stepped into a dingy interior with concrete floors and a well-worn bar to one side. Booths were lined up on the wall opposite the bar, and a handful of tables sat in the center of the room. There were no TVs, thank fucking god, because lately Icouldn’t even pump gas without being smacked in the face with ads on tiny screens.
The place pretty quiet other than the heavy metal playing from speakers mounted near the ceilings.
I lifted a hand in greeting to Honey, a friendly blonde waitress who was an unofficial member of the Blades, then promptly tripped over a chair someone hadn’t pushed in at one of the tables.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bram muttered when I stumbled.
“You okay there, sugar?” Honey asked.
She didn’t seem at all alarmed by my near collision with the floor. Then again, I’d been to Syd’s plenty of times so this wasn’t her first rodeo with me and a chair.
Or a glass. Or a plate of food.
“I’m good."
We took a seat while I tried to salvage my dignity and she put a hand on my shoulder. “Burgers and brew, handsome?”
She didn’t even look at Bram, which wasn’t surprising. No one looked at Bram, and I’d gotten used to feeling like I was walking next to a fucking ghost.
I used to think it was because of his scar, but now I knew it was something else: looking at Bram meant acknowledging he existed, and for most people, knowing someone like Bram existed in the world was just too fucking terrifying.
“You know it,” I told Honey.
