Flick (The Black Sentinels MC Book 4) Page 3

  “Fuck. What happened?” I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know, if some fucker had mistreated her, harmed her… No. I couldn’t think like that. I’d lose my fucking mind. I left her there, I didn’t keep her safe and if this was the end result, I would firebomb the earth until someone, anyone paid.

  “Car wreck. I tried to find you, but it… it wouldn’t have made any difference. It would have been too late. My dad found some papers and saw that you were working at an autoshop.”

  “Christ.” I was down to one-word responses, but at least it conveyed most of the emotions I was feeling. Tracey was good, did no one any wrong and still ended up dead, yet I was still fucking standing. I clenched my fist ready to throw a punch through something, anything. It should be, me not her.

  “Funeral is day after tomorrow. St. Michaels at noon.”

  “Can’t be there,” I snapped straight back.

  I heard her frustrated inhale and it reminded me of all things home, well, all the good things I missed from home. “Time to stop being a fucking asshole Beckett. This is your sister. Your mom isn’t here, and the kids need to see she had a fucking family that cared about their mom. Kids needs that and tomorrow of all days would be a good idea to show them that their uncle isn’t all fucking asshole.”

  Back in the day I used to have to really piss her off to get her this riled up, seemed that she’d learned to get lippy and bitchy all on her own. She’d always been emotional, but in that nerdy innocent kind of way.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Do better than fucking try. Will reading is after the wake, that’s at my house, you need to be there for that too, apparently.”

  I didn’t answer her back and after a few seconds of nothing, the line cut dead and I was left with more thoughts about dead people. Only this time it was a little too close to home.

  Flick

  Fucking Asshole.

  I thought he’d have grown up, like the rest of us. But no, Beckett Hope was still a major fucking asshole. As if this day wasn’t hard enough, I had to fight my way through it with him there.

  The first glance I stole at him proved God was cruel. He was still handsome, even though he’d changed. Gone was his carefree hair, now it was completely buzzed on top, so close to his scalp you could see the odd vein that delivered blood to his head. Whatever he’d been doing had served him well. He had muscles upon muscles, like he could snap the thickest of tree trunks in half. Beckett was still tall, toweringly so. I expected him to turn up wearing military fatigues, but he wasn’t. He rolled up in a beat up 4x4, wearing jeans that looked barely washed and a leather cut.

  When had Beckett joined a motorcycle gang? No wonder his family were happy to steer clear of him.

  But it was his eyes, they were stone cold, lifeless, like they’d seen too much of a bad life already. I expected those eyes today, but they looked fixed and firm in place, this was the norm for him. There was only a hint of the person I used to know and that was probably why Tracey had nothing to do with him.

  I tried not to watch him as I waited, but it was impossible because all I wanted to do was run over there and kick his ass for missing out on so much of his sister’s life.

  “Come on, kiddos, let’s go do this.” I looked down at the mop of curly hair on one side of me and the thick styled head of hair on the other. Both holding my hands, clinging to them with every ounce of strength they had.

  Ben and Lila.

  Tracey’s perfect kids, her six-year-old daughter Lila, and her eight, nearly nine-year-old boy, Ben. Tracey’s perfect little orphan kids, because no one knew who or where their waste of space dad was, he wasn’t even named on the birth certificate. Every time I asked her, she ranted that he was just a sperm donor, two very enjoyable mistakes. I wasn’t even sure if they had the same father. Maybe he was dead too, or maybe that was wishful thinking.

  “Can Mommy see us?” Lila whispered, her head tilted back awaiting my answer.

  “No, she’s in the box, stupid,” Ben grizzled back.

  “Hey, come on, we’ve been through this. Mom’s in heaven. What did I say about souls?”

  I looked down again, Lila was still looking up and I waited patiently until I had Ben’s attention. When I didn’t get it, I squeezed his hand, still he resisted until I kneeled down, a near impossible task in this skirt. It would just be my luck for the seams to split and my ass to hang out at my best friend’s funeral.

  God! I hated the world. I wanted to fucking die at the injustice.

  “Our body is just the thing that carries around our pretty soul and sometimes, our body is just too sick and poorly, so we have to let the body go to sleep. But that soul lives on forever.”

  “In heaven with Jeezuz,” Lila responded, parrot fashion.

  “That’s right, in heaven with Jesus, which means, they’re always there and always watching, always loving us from afar.”

  “That’s dumb.” It was safe to say that Ben was struggling with this more than his younger sister. Lila was still hopeful of miracles, rainbows and unicorns as pets, but she’d learn eventually that life could be cruel, especially to hopeful girls with dreams. Ben was nearly nine going on twenty-nine and had always suffered not having a dad in his life, the missing important role model and now, without his mom, I saw problems ahead for him.

  “It’s not dumb, come on we’ve got to stick together, and a lot of people have come to say goodbye to your mom.”

  The problem was, after today I had no clue what would happen with these kids and it could quite possibly break me if they went into the system.

  Damn you, Tracey Hope!

  “I thought you just said she was still here,” he countered.

  “Oh, Ben.”

  This was why I’d steered clear of kids and parenting. Something that seemed cute fifty percent of the time, but then relentlessly excelled in trying to trip you up for your good-intentioned white lies the rest of it. Anything, no matter how cute, that had those skills naturally, was reserved for better people than me.

  I moved us to the chair at the side of the casket, surrounded by freshly dug earth and fake grass, and looked to my left. The number of mourners was minimal, a few people from her neighborhood, her boss, some of the girls from the grocery market where she worked, and a couple of the moms from school.

  Pitiful.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see my parents, Mom mouthed, “Okay?” and I nodded back with a lump the size of an iceberg in my throat. A million words conveyed between us, and when she looked at the kids, their hands still in mine, I saw the tears build in her eyes. My dad stood beside her with my Gran.

  A loud cough, raspy and deep of chest came from the side of the coffin. Father Palmer’s hands shook as he opened his bible. Alcohol and smokes would see him in this place and at the mercy of his beloved God sooner than expected if he didn’t ease up. “We’re gathered here today…”

  His voice trailed off and I looked around at all the people in front of me and did a double take when I spotted Beckett settled at the back, like he was just a friend passing condolences. He should have been here, in the chair next to his niece and nephew.

  Asshole.

  A hand touched his shoulder, the red nails squeezing tight and offering support which he didn’t acknowledge, he never even flinched at her touch.

  Asshole.

  The words of Father Palmer droned on and on, none of us were particularly religious, but I’d felt it best, for the kids, to give her the right sort of funeral, anything less would scar them more than they already were.

  The woman with Beckett was pretty, had a crazy mass of curly hair, sun-kissed skin and deep set, pretty eyes. They were an odd couple, she looked like she lived in the sun, he looked like he avoided it at all costs.

  The service ended and I reached for the three roses on the ground at my feet, giving one each to the kids and keeping one for myself. “Do we give her the flower now, Aunty Flick?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

/>   “And she’ll take it to heaven?”

  Ben sighed and I pierced him with a look, daring him to counter the little stories I’d planted in Lila’s head to help her sleep at night. “All the way to heaven.”

  “Is it a magic rose?”

  “Yes, one filled with love and messages that only your mom can hear. So, make sure you put a wish on it.”

  “Like a secret wish when you blow out your birthday candles?”

  “Exactly.”

  I pulled them forward.

  Lila stood at the side, looked at the rose, scrunched her eyes up for a few seconds and then laid her flower on the casket.

  Ben slapped his down like he could think of a million other things he’d rather be doing, and let’s face it, he wasn’t wrong.

  I dropped the kid’s hands, stepped forward and felt the lump in my throat bubble up and grow bigger. “Damn you, Tracey,” I whispered. “What happens now?”

  “Aunty Flick, you’re supposed to say the words inside your head.”

  “I know, sorry, baby.” I closed my eyes, tried to come up with something and got nothing. Zero inspiration. Just a mental image of the two kids I’d spent the last three weeks caring for.

  “Are we done now?” Ben grumbled.

  I stepped back, turned on my pretty kitten heels and found myself face to face with Beckett. Words failed me. The woman he was with had just stayed back, stood some fifteen foot away, giving him some space. Respectful, understated and just there… beautiful. Not plain, bony and normal, like me. She looked perfect for being on the arm of a dangerous-looking biker. Cropped leather jacket, tight jeans and heeled boots that said after she’d got off his bike, she was going out for cocktails and tapas. Not nibbles, definitely European tapas. Cool as fuck.

  “Who are you?” Lila asked, breaking the awkward silence of an already deadly silent place and Beckett froze.

  Good.

  Asshole needed a reminder that he’d been more absent than present in their lives.

  “Uh…” Seems his brain cells were also absent, along with his hair and more likely, decent human morals.

  “This is your Uncle Beckett, he’s been away.” I hated making excuses for him, but these kids had been through enough and letting a total stranger fuck them around wasn’t going to happen on my watch.

  “Away where?” Ben squinted.

  “War,” I replied for him, but knew this was a total lie. He hadn’t seen active service for a few years, but it wasn’t like I could say, ‘fuck knows where your uncle’s been, but by the look of him, carousing, drinking, and dragging loose women back to his lair by their hair.’

  Ben froze and I felt his hand clench in mine. When I looked down at him, he was staring at Beckett awestruck. Great. Last thing I needed was Ben massaging his hero complex ego even more. “Kill anyone?”

  Beckett stayed mute, but his eye twitched and the muscle in his cheek went with it.

  “Shoot anyone?” His nephew wasn’t going to be deterred.

  “I don’t think Uncle Beckett wants to talk about that.”

  “My mommy is in heaven with Jeezuz.”

  Beckett tilted his head down and I saw something smooth through his features and I knew what he was thinking. That cute mop of hair next to me was the mini replica of her mom at that age. I watched as he opened his mouth and I jumped in desperate to stop him saying something nice to her. If he did, if showed some compassion, it would only make me hate him more, because he’d missed out on these perfect little people. “There’s coffee and sandwiches at my folk’s place.”

  “Need to get on the road.”

  “Beckett,” I sighed. “There’s some legal stuff to deal with.”

  “What legal stuff?”

  “Legal stuff,” I ground out. “Official, legal papers and you need to come and pick them up.”

  “Post ‘em.”

  In my head I was screaming, so when I leaned into him and grit my teeth, I worked my ass off not to scream on the outside too. “Stop being a f… f… flipping a…” I stopped, suppressed the need to curse in front of the kids and took a deep breath.

  “Shadow,” came the pretty voice, “we’ve got time, we’ll swing by and collect what needs to be collected.”

  Beckett looked irritated.

  I felt beyond irritated.

  But when he nodded, I glared back and pulled the children with me, Ben begrudgingly. For like most people, Beckett Hope had spun his magic spell and bewitched those that didn’t know him or understand that he was a pure asshole.

  Shadow

  “Why d'you do that?”

  I tilted my head sideways, wondering whether to answer Malia or strangle her. I wasn’t coming to this damn funeral until Wave told her I wasn’t and then she unleashed all that was her on me. She didn’t quit until I caved and the next thing I knew, we were in my truck and I was driving home to the town I vowed I’d never set foot in again.

  “Cute kids.”

  I ignored her again.

  “Why aren’t you close to them?

  “Because I’m not.”

  Most people would back down and cower, but not Malia. Since she’d hooked her star to my brother Wave, it was like she’d bypassed my defenses and permission to breach was not required.

  “Yeah, but they’re cute.”

  I nodded, praying this would shut her up, as I rallied my rust bucket through a place I’d left behind years ago. Back then I was a different Beckett Hope and not someone who I felt I could find again. Being here even for visits after I… made my choice was just too dangerous.

  “The girl’s a firecracker. Never thought I’d meet someone who didn’t cower at the great Shadow.”

  “You don’t cower,” I muttered.

  “I know. I think we’d get on great.”

  “No. Fuck, no. don’t get any ideas. This visiting thing is a onetime deal.”

  Malia looked at me and I felt the change in her before she spoke. “What’s gonna happen to those kids?”

  We pulled into the street that looked familiar. Suburban family hell. We passed the wooded area, before coming to a stop by the tree where I’d kissed and dry humped Flick what now seemed a lifetime ago. That was the last time I’d seen her, and apart from a fresh lick of paint on the house, everything looked exactly the same.

  “In and out, Mal.”

  “Sure.” As I went to climb out, I felt her hand on my arm. “I hate not knowing how to comfort you, and I know you don’t want to be here, but I didn’t want you to regret not having the chance to say goodbye.”

  As much as I detested being here, I already had my fair share of regrets and not saying goodbye to my sister was another I was keen to avoid. The scales in my life weren’t balancing even close to level, so anything I could do in favor of leveling them up, I knew I should try to take it.

  I nodded.

  That was as good as she was going to get in terms of a thank you or agreement.

  The front door opened as we approached, and Flick’s dad stood with his hand out. “Nice to have you here Beckett, it's been a while.”

  Taking his hand, I agreed. “It has.”

  I didn’t know whether it was appropriate to say thank you, but for the main he’d kept his promise to me, she survived our fucked-up parents enough to get her own life together, move out and have kids.

  “Just wish it was under better circumstances.” We followed him through a house that still held familiarities and memories, more of Flick and Tracey trying to get me to do some girlie shit on our play dates than I care to remember. And the subsequent ones of me actually having to do that girlie shit because the bitches always ganged up on me and then outvoted me. Despite not wanting to be here, it felt good to be bombarded with nice memories for a change, flashbacks that didn’t leave me curled up in a ball, in a shaky, sweaty mess.

  Out in the backyard, my niece—fuck, I had a niece—Lila was running around chasing bubbles and Ben was sat with some hand-held game device on the decking. He occasi
onally glanced up when she squealed, and I instantly recognized the behavior.

  The protector.

  Man of the family.

  At their age that had been me and Tracey.

  Despite my sister getting pregnant not once, but twice by losers, indications suggested she’d be a damn good mom. Just like ours wasn’t.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” gasped the sweetest voice ever. “Beckett Hope, get your butt over here and give this old woman a thrill.”

  I turned to my left and saw Flick’s gran. Growing up she’d indulged Tracey and me by being the grandparent we’d never had. Back in the day it had just been me, T, Mom, and Dad. My mom’s parents were losers, pure and simple and it was no wonder mom turned out as she did. My dad’s folks never condoned when he hooked up with my mom and they pretty much gave him an ultimatum, her or them. He turned out to be an epic disappointment to them when he chose the woman he ‘loved.’ That was the end of that relationship and for a while it was just the four of us, then Flick wormed her way into our world, and brought her parents and grandma with her.

  “Mrs. Peters.” I sidled up close as she requested.

  “Enough of that nonsense. It’s gran, and you know it, boy. Let me look at you, my eyes aren’t what they once were.” Her eyes were perfect, she’d spotted me from the other side of the yard, but I’d indulge her. “What did they do to you?” she muttered, her eyes roving my face, clearly unhappy.

  “Who?”

  “The damn army.” I went stiff at her words wondering what she’d seen, figured out. “You exploded. Muscles upon muscles. You’re a big boy.”

  With some relief, I laughed, for a minute I thought she could see all the horrors I’d endured just from looking in my eyes. If she’d have seen them, she would have called them out, regardless of where we were and who was around. Having to tell her to shut the fuck up would have been regrettable, but most definitely necessary. When she got a wild hair, there was no stopping her, force and anger would have been the only way. I kissed her cheek noticing that she still smelled like a country garden. Flowers and sunshine, all rolled into one package.