“Yeah, it’s just better that way.”
She bounced the baby a bit. “Oh, don’t worry, I know how possessive bikers are.”
Just as I put my arm around her and pulled her close, Scar spotted us. I tipped my hat to him. There was a sea of leather and picnic food between us, so I tried to wave him over. He ignored me. With the crowd, it was probably best I didn’t get to him, yet. Not only did I have good news, I had to tell him the bad news about Emery. He wouldn’t be too happy with the General when I did.
Positively, Scar would be happier than a hog to know about his sister, Halley’s whereabouts, but it could wait. Halley was safe. I’d claim she was mine. Hell, I wanted her to be mine, but even the thought of a relationship with her was complicated. She wasn’t right inthe head, not all the time, not that it mattered to me, but I’d have to see what Scar thought.
Shit, I understood our chapters partying together, but old Wolverine from the Coyote Ghosts’ MC and his crew showed up with kids and shit. You had to have native blood to ride with them. Halley and I’d just been talking on the ride about the fact that apparently her mom had been one of them. I recognized little of the others, but Bald Beak and Cujo who we’d met up with only a couple weeks ago.
Old, wrinkled leather like skin with dark long hair flowing behind him, complete with a few feathers, Wolverine approached then he hugged Scar.
Holy shit.
From what Halley told me about the Ghosts being their kin and them greeting Scar and not our President. All the chapters here. It hit me that this was a funeral. A funeral for Halley. Glancing around, I saw everyone was in more black than usual, and that was saying something. I’d have to keep it from her. It didn’t seem like it’d be too hard. No one was mourning. They were visiting and for all she knew, this was one big biker family reunion.
“You’re Star for the time being, understand?”
She agreed.
We sat and ate ribs laced in Wanda’s famous BBQ sauce. I chatted with brothers and sisters I hadn’t seen in a month of Sundays. Halley glowed, showing off her baby, claiming he was mine. I played along, letting myself feel the pride as if he was. Hell, I’d helped him into the world and even changed a couple diapers. I’d given him a bottle or two to tide him over until Halley could feed him, especially in the beginning when the pain and blood loss had made her so weak.
“What’s his name?” One after another asked.
“Cowboy hasn’t named him, yet. You know men. Some of them can’t decide what they want and just take it.” I ignored her dig at me, that I wanted us to take things slow. If she was well enough to hold a grudge, she may be well enough for a relationship after all.
“I’m wanting to name him John, but Star here likes the name Frances.”
“I do not.” She slapped at my arm.
Later I heard, “Halley was her name, like the comet.” I immediately turned to see Halley talking to an old lady from Texas. The woman went on, “The family hasmade their way to the gravesite now. Trying to keep it private, I think. Can’t blame them. There’s no body, but I hear there was so much blood… It’s a shame about Scar’s sister. Never knew the girl, but it’s a shame.”
I cut in, “Yeah, it’s a real shame, excuse us.” I led Halley and the baby away from the crowd to explain.
“There’s no need, while you were catching up, I read the flyer.” She handed me one and got all serious. “In memory of Halley Cole, beloved sister.” Then she brightened. “Cole. That’s my last name.” She beamed.
I smirked back because she was so happy about everything. Learning her last name. About every possibility. Indisputably, she had a memory problem at times, but who could blame her. If I’d gone through an inch of what she’d had, I’d want to forget, too.
She had barbeque sauce on her lip. I licked my finger and wiped it off.
“I like the dents in your cheeks,” she said and placed a kiss on one. “And your hat. You want to dance?”
“It’s a funeral, not a hoedown.”
“It’s my funeral, and I haven’t danced in, well, I don’t want to think about it. It’ll be our first. I bet Big Flo from Texas will hold the baby.”
“Alrighty then.”
Big Flo did want to hold the baby. There was background music playing quietly, some rock station. I asked Toes to turn it up. I took Halley’s hands, then her waist, and she started to slow dance. I didn’t mind. We swayed to Fat Bottomed Girls like this was a grade school dance. I got a few thumbs up and whistles from my brothers. Halley laid her head on my chest and closed her eyes like we were the only two people in the world. Having her so close and content gave me peace, but it didn’t last long.
I heard a sound I hadn’t in weeks. Gun Shots fired. The sound echoed through me, bringing fear, making me appreciate the peace I’d shared with Halley and the baby all the more. She hurried for her baby, taking her from Big Flo and I hurried for her. I drew my gun and put Halley and the baby behind me. Practically everyone laid on the ground or hid under tables, themselves or over a woman or child or two. Well, not everyone was down. My brothersand the Coyote Ghosts had their weapons pulled, too, people at their backs.
I recognized the party crasher right away. Snakebite hadn’t bled out. His posse joined him. He shot again, his gun on the General, sitting in his wheelchair. Wanda hid behind the chair, crouching down and clutching her revolver. Her red eyebrows pinched together. Scar came in view, our brothers behind him pointing weapons toward the Sons of Satan MC.
It was a standoff.
“You cut my father’s tongue out and carved your name in his chest,” Snakebite said to Scar.
“I’d kill the bastard all over again for what he did to my sister. A thousand times over. What do you want?” Scar shouted back.
