“Not in the mood for your jokes today.” I shake my head as I rise from the swing. Should have known better than to come out here with Kooper. I don’t know why I agreed to it. Something on his face, in his eyes, told me he was serious about his request to talk to me. But it was just me needing a bit of normalcy to get me through today.
I was just pulling into my apartment complex with Nat when Flint called me back. I dropped her off and drove back. I even had a few cops chasing after me till I got a hold of Flint and he got word out to call them off me. I would have brought Nat, but she ain’t club. And when the club gets attacked, you don’t bring in outsiders.
Shit, this has never happened before. I didn’t even know it could! After the threat against the club’s family with Duke, things were put in place. But that was to protect people outside. Never to protect anyone inside.
I asked about my dad when I got the call, but Flint said he didn’t know anything other than that everyone needed to come in. And that spoke more than anything. Unwritten law is that family is notified almost immediately if there’s an issue. It’s because the club knows how precious life is. And if you’ve only got a little time left in it, you call in everyone who means a damn to you.
But I never got that call. I was never told anything. Even when I got here, my questions about Dad wentunanswered, so I gave up asking and just helped with the chaos. My worries were nothing compared to those who were bleeding and the kids who were screaming.
I did what I always do: I stood up and helped. If Dad wasn’t here to show face, then I would do it in his honor.
But this? This is the worst joke a person can play. Not only because the words are awful, but it pulled me away from helping.
“I’m not joking.” He blocks my path.
I just shake my head and attempt to walk around him, but he grabs my arm.
“Ruby, he’s dead. I saw it myself. He died.”
I wrench my arm away and take a few steps before turning back. “How? When?” My arms are waving all over the place as I test his stupid joke. Ithasto be a joke. Anything else will shatter me.
He runs his hands over his head, and dread fills me. I’ve never seen him look like this before. So unsure, so lost. I start to tremble.
“He was trying to save Ollie. He went up top with the prospect, and Bass and I covered the ground. It was a trap. We would have been dead. Ollie would have died. But your dad….” He takes a minute to smile, but there’s no happiness in his face as he does. “He took out the threat and fought hard till he got shot and pushed off the second story. He fell and….” He shakes his head and looks away. There’s no reason to say it again. He already said enough.
“Why wasn’t I called? Why didn’t I know?” My words are nothing more than a whisper on the air.
“We.…” He clears his throat, and a bit of emotion seems to crack through his otherwise stoic self. “We thought General could save him. That there was something to do. But then… then we just couldn’t believe it. We didn’t want to say because we didn’t want it to be true. Telling you made it real.”
I process his words, and then I glare at him. My jaw tenses. The tears that were starting to fall just sit in my eyes. I refuse to let them drop.
“You didn’t want it to be real? You didn’t want it to be true? What gives you the right to think you get a say in any of it?”
He steps toward me, and I see anger flash in his eyes to match my own. “I have every right. He was like a father to me.”
“He wasmyfather!” I yell so loud that birds fly out of the trees.
His anger dies as he looks at the tears on my face. “I know, Peaches. I know.” He reaches out to touch my arm, but I don’t want softness. I want to hit something, to punch.
This can’t be true. It just can’t. I can’t be alone. I can’t be all that’s left.
I push him away. Then I do it again, and he takes a step back. “You don’t know shit. Where is he?” I start walking back to the compound. “I want to see him.”
He’s not dead. Just sleeping. Sometimes he sleeps hard. Sure, every time I come in, no matter the time or how softly I shut the door, he hears me. But maybe he just hit his head or something. Or there’s a delay, and his guardian angel was on a break but is back now.
I don’t believe in God. How can I? My mom died when I was young. She told me I should believe. That there were always angels out there to help her, and sometimes she was an angel to others who needed it. She called Mama Bear an angel. I wanted to believe they were real then. To believe that someone was going to help her when the medicine didn’t. But they didn’t come through. And now?
I’ll pray and believe anything if it makes this all a bad dream. The worst dream. A nightmare that I never saw coming.
Dad was invincible. Nothing was going to get him down. He can’t be dead. He just can’t.
Arms grab me from the back and try to hold me. “No, Ruby. You don’t need to see him like this.” I struggle in his grasp,but he holds firm, leaning in to speak softly in my ear. “Think of him as you did before all of this. Remember him when he was with you. Don’t let your last image of him be of him gone.”
A cry of anguish crawls out of my soul as I let my ultimate fear take over. My knees buckle, but strong arms wrap around me and hold me, catching me before I fall. My wails of pain can be heard throughout the state, much less the compound, but no one comes to see. No one comes to figure out what could be my issue. And that makes it so much worse, as they must know. They must all know the truth and that there’s nothing they can do for me. Nothing anyone can do.
I wrestle in Kooper’s arms, and eventually he releases me. I turn quickly and punch him. Kick him. Smack him in the face. Anything and everything, and he just takes it, making me cry harder as I pound on his chest. My strengthdrains quickly as my mind explodes with what this means. What it’s going to be like for me going forward. Alone. By myself.
I breathe heavily as I let my hands fall to my sides, my head hanging low. A hand pulls my head to his chest, and his fingers scratch at the base of my neck. I feel his lips touch my forehead, and I close my eyes, imagining it’s my dad. Something he did so many times that I took it for granted.
