“That‘date’Reyna told you about?” Ace paused. “It never existed. We talked to that guy Evan, and he had no idea about any of it.”
What?
Cross tapped his fist on the table. “And it looks like Reyna cleared her things out from the motel, the days before you two went to the poker house. She took all her shit as if she was nevercoming back. We’re not exactly sure what to make of it, but it’s fucking suspicious.”
It was.
But why would Reyna lie? None of this made sense.We’re friends, right?
“We’re telling you because we promised Knox we’d protect you. But since you don’t like following the rules, we need you to be aware.” Ace circled his finger. “It could be nothing, but it could be something, and we aren’t taking any chances when it comes to you. So, for fucks sake, can you please tell us the next time you decide you need a fucking adventure?”
It was the least she could do. After all, they were just trying to keep her safe.
“I promise.”
Ace slapped his hand on the table and stood. “Now, let’s go celebrate our brother.”
The men filed out of the room, but Cleo sat for a few more minutes, watching them tap their hands on the helmet on the shelf. She’d never seen this ritual. After Knox had passed away, she’d kept many of his belongings. She liked the idea of always having a piece of him. But the club took his helmet.
“Come on.” Wraith slid his hand down her arm and clasped her hand. Cleo stood, staring at the helmet as they walked to the door. Her eyes welled, and the lump in her throat grew thicker.
Wraith’s hand came into the frame as he tapped the helmet. She looked over at him, and he lifted his chin to the shelf. She slowly lifted her hand, sliding it over his helmet.
I miss you, Knox.
*
The party was still going strong hours later. She stayed close to Wraith most of the night but had wandered outside a few minutes ago. This was Knox’s life with the club and probably how he’d want to be celebrated. Cleo had overheard so manystories of her brother. Some made her laugh, some made her smile and others had her cringing slightly from all the dirty details, mostly shared by a few women. Her brother was no saint. But all the stories had one thing in common, Knox was loved, adored and respected.
But she didn’t feel his spirit. Not inside the clubhouse walls, among his people. She knew him differently.
The firepit had a large crowd gathered, and she turned left, walking down the dirt path leading to the old storage building. His final resting spot. Cleo usually avoided this section of the property. This night it was as if it was calling to her.I feel you, Knox.
She weaved through the brush, pushing away the overgrown branches until she reached the clearing.
Cleo never allowed herself to remember the night he died. She’d blocked it from her mind. The call from Ghost, the waiting room at the hospital, and the doctor walking out, knowing just by the look on his face, Knox was gone. And suddenly being in this spot had all the memories flooding back into her mind.I thought we had more time.
A few short years, that was all she got with him.It wasn’t enough.Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ambled down to the opening. There were no remnants of the building. It had been cleared away. But the area lined with trees served as a reminder. He took his last breath, possibly whispered his last prayer and saw his last image…..right here.
His final resting place. And there was only one way to remember him.
Cleo gathered two logs from the brush and centered them in the dirt. It had been years since she’d lit her own fire. She dug into her bag, pulling out the lighter.His lighter.
It took a little while for it to get started. It was a small fire. Knox would’ve done it better.
Not bad, Cleo.She could almost hear his voice.
Cleo drew in a breath, embracing the calm, washing over her. She walked to the log and sat, popping her earbuds in andtapping the playlist on her phone. She’d made it after he died. Songs that reminded her of him. Music was powerful, and comforting.
The cruelest part of grief was all the what ifs. What could have been. What should’ve been. Every moment missed, big and small. Every voice, laugh, and cry that’ll never be heard. Every touch that’ll never be felt again. The plans that would never come to fruition.
We didn’t have enough time.
But she had this. Cleo was zoned into the fire and wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there. Seconds, minutes, hours… When the playlist ended, she turned to her phone resting on the log next to her. Cleo stiffened, knitting her brows. She wasn’t alone. Several pairs of boots came into her line of sight. She slowly looked up. Ace, Cross, Ghost, and Cypher stood shoulder to shoulder, holding a beer, staring at the fire. She angled her head in the opposite direction. Oak and Gent, taking the same stand, focusing on the fire.
A tremble rolled over her skin. She shifted on the log, glancing over her shoulder. Wraith was standing behind her. He didn’t look at her. Like his brothers, he was staring at the fire. Her fire. The one she’d built.
For Knox.
