Chapter Twenty-two
Serafina
After spending Saturday night crying myself to sleep, I woke up Sunday morning with a clear conscience. Why should I lament the time I spent with Eagle? I went to him out of love. Even if he doesn’t know it, I’ll carry the memory for both of us. He’ll move on soon and find a girl to settle down with. The bond we share can’t be broken. That much I know.
As for my lost virginity . . . it’s not as big of a deal as Asia makes it out to be. I’m not a teenager. I’ve experienced more than most fifty-year-old women do. Felt more pain, cried more tears, smiled more, laughed more, and sure as hell sacrificed more than anyone I know. I gave up my family and name—and the man I love—so Eagle could live. And he is. Thriving as the president of the Iron Norsemen.
I turn up the volume on my iPod, the sound of John Legend’s voice singing “All of Me” fills my apartment. I’ve always listened more to the lyrics than the music. Words move me. Caleb was just the opposite. Primal sounds drove him. Violent drum beats and edgy guitars. “California Dreaming” starts and I dance across the apartment, loving the classic song—my father’s favorite tune.
I grab my cell and order a pepperoni and sausage pizza from the place down the street. I’m pretty friendly with the delivery guy. Alex is a senior in high school scrimping and saving for college next year.
I run to the bathroom to put my contacts in but change my mind as soon as I look in the mirror. I like my brown eyes, especially when I’m wearing the T-shirt Eagle gave me all those years ago when he asked me to be his old lady. It says “property of Eagle” on it. Tonight I want to be Angel Orani, not Serafina. The shirt is one of the only things I managed to grab before I fled Holly Beach. It and some pictures I keep stashed in a lockbox under my bed. Feeling overly nostalgic, I head to the bedroom and slide under the bed.
I unlock the box and start shuffling through the memorabilia. There’s a shot of me and my dad when I was six. One with Mom at the beach. Several from high school, even a picture of me and my brothers before everything changed. But I’m only interested in the stack containing Eagle.
The first one is from the day he received his patch from the Iron Norsemen. He’s wearing his usual dark T-shirt and jeans. The next one is of the two of us at the clubhouse eating barbeque on the patio. Tonsils and his old lady, Belle, are standing behind us making funny faces. I laugh and swipe the tear from the corner of my eye. I miss everything about the MC. The brothers and old ladies, the camaraderie, the life in general. I miss sitting on the back of Eagle’s Harley and the respect that went with it. Back then I’m sure he never expected to become the president.
I’m so proud of him.
There was always something special about him. He possesses natural leadership skills that most men never display, part of that twenty percent of people who jump into action during a crisis. The other eighty percent freeze and only respond to commands.
I take the box into the living room and choose another song—“Desperado” by the Eagles. Another favorite we shared. He’d sing it to me all the time, begging me to trust him with my heart. We both love classic music.
Someone knocks on the door. I gaze at the clock in the kitchen. Thirty minutes since I ordered—Alex is on time. I grab the twenty-dollar bill off the breakfast bar and hurry to the front door, my tummy growling. As soon as I open the door my world shatters.
It’s not Alex.
“Serafina?”
Before I can close the door, Eagle jams his foot between the frame and door and forces his way inside.
I back away, covering my mouth with both hands.
“Who the fuck are you?” he roars, coming at me, his angry blue gaze fixed on my shirt. He looks into my eyes. “Where did you get that shirt?”
We’re only a few feet apart. A dozen lies are spinning through my head. If I don’t get this right the first time, he’ll kill me. My secret life won’t matter anymore.
“Tell me. Now!”
I cringe at the rage in his voice and on his face. I’ve never seen him so angry before.
“Who are you? Don’t make me beat it out of you. Do you work for Bear? Is that a trophy from the day he killed Angel?” He backs me against the wall and I struggle not to look him directly in the eyes.
The shadows in the living room might keep me safe—keep him from noticing my brown eyes. The plastic surgeon’s knife couldn’t alter my eye color or the deep-seated love that shines in them every time I’m around Caleb. Nothing can hide it. But I’m too afraid to tell him the truth. A coward.
“I don’t know Bear. I picked this shirt up at a secondhand store a few years ago.”
“Where?” he demands.
“I-I don’t remember”
“Bullshit.”
“In Beaumont, I think.”
“Beaumont? And it just happens to have the Iron Norsemen patch and my name on it? Jesus Christ, Serafina. Look at me.” He forces my chin upward.
“I think you should leave, Eagle. I don’t like surprises, especially unannounced guests.” I shake my chin free but he still has me caged in.
