16.

Caitlin

 

Since Jesse had no family, the brothers arranged for him to be cremated. We’ve all gathered today up on a mountain bluff overlooking a valley. It’s a beautiful spot to hold a memorial service. It’s the best we could come up with right now, seeing as Houdini is still out there somewhere.

The Lords have a tradition, one last ride for a fallen brother. They’ll sprinkle his ashes along the open road. Freedom in death. But as Houdini is still out there somewhere, neither Duke nor the other brothers would leave yet. So Jesse’s final ride will have to wait until it’s safe for them to leave us women and children alone.

Not that I have the right to be here, Jesse would still be alive if I hadn’t dragged him out of the clubhouse to take me and Jade to Fun Zone. All Duke’s pain, the new lines formed around his normally bright eyes, the tired weariness that accompanies him even in his sleep, all my doing. And I’d know, since I left the hospital sleep hasn’t been my friend. I lay in bed at night and watch him struggle.

So much struggle. So much heartache. I woke up for a few minutes what I assume was that first night in the hospital or it could have been any night as I’d stayed unconscious for two and a half days. That night, Duke held my hand. His eyes were closed, head downcast, but even in the dark, I could see his pain. Feel his pain. “You fucking owe me,” he’d whispered. “Today of all days, let her be okay.”

I’d never seen a man so broken. Part of me wanted to squeeze his hand, to let him know. But the casts on my wrists felt awkward and he looked like he needed to be alone with his thoughts. Then, I passed back out so quickly, it had probably been good that I didn’t.

They waited the week for me to be released and the second week convalescing at home, before holding the service. Duke helped me dress this morning, a simple black sundress. Trisha showed up to help with my hair and makeup, seeing as with two broken wrists, I’m pretty much useless.

All that’s left of my friend, that beautiful man, rests in an industrial strength cardboard box. No chairs except for the one Duke brought for me and Sneak brought for Trisha. Elise leans against Boss, who holds their sleeping son against his chest.

I have my arm around my girl as she stands with her head resting on my shoulder. Duke stands before all of us, a pillar of fortitude for the men and women gathered today. As he begins to speak, stoic emotion filling his words, I feel myself begin to shut down.

Back erect in the seat, as I continue to hold my girl, dark shades cover my eyes. Duke’s voice washes over me. The words become a jumble of sounds. When he moves from the front of the gathering, I’m the first to stand, move my girl back a step, because no matter how much she wants me to hold her, I’m still weak and recovering, and slowly walk over to the urn where I place my hand and whisper my apology. An apology, which will never reach his ears because he’s dead. Gone.

My daughter whimpers as she trails along behind me. She knows we’re all sad, and she feels his loss. Jesse was her friend, but death is a hard concept for a child as young as Jade to understand. I wish to any god that would listen, that she didn’t have to understand it now.

I’m heartsick.

Though being the president’s old lady, the brothers and their women won’t see me cry. It’s a time to show strength, even if I don’t feel strong. Others follow me up to the urn. They also try to engage me in conversation. That I can’t handle right now, and excuse myself and walk back to the truck with my daughter in tow.

Once secured in her booster in the backseat with her blanket, I turn on a movie for my little girl. None of it comes easy with two casted wrists, but this is the least of the penance I deserve for taking that beautiful life.

Jade and I wait until the last of the mourners has moved to a bike or truck, and Duke slides in the driver’s seat. He tries to take my hand as he drives us toward the compound, but I pull away, clasping my hands in my lap so he can’t try again.

Neither of us speaks.

When we reach the house, he parks and moves to get Jade. I don’t even tell him thank you, walking into the utility room through the main living space, down the hallway into the master where I immediately head to the bathroom and lock the door. Only then, only then do I allow myself to cry. Sinking down to my knees, I close my eyes and let the sobs rip through me.

“Jesse.” I cry to no one. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please… please…” I beg him, though I don’t know for what. Forgiveness? To have this all be a practical joke? A nightmare? “I’m so sorry…” I continue to cry.

The doorknob jiggles and there’s a soft knock. “Doc?” Duke calls. When I don’t answer, he knocks harder. “Doc, honey let me in.”

No. He’ll only try to comfort me. I don’t want his comfort.

A couple minutes pass. The doorknob jiggles again and then the door pops open. Duke, my Chief, looks haggard as he bends to pull me up. His touch almost stings as he tries to hold me.

“No.” I ball my fist and pound on his chest. “Don’t touch me. We killed him. We did. I took him with me, but you took her side.” My accusation comes out a yell as I pound on his chest again, needing him to hurt as badly as I hurt. “You took her side. Now Jesse’s dead. I hate you.” I used both fists now to pound, and he doesn’t attempt to stop me, taking everything I throw at him until there’s nothing left, and I sag against him.

Then his arms wrap to hold me.

Scooping me up like a bride, he moves us to the bed and lays me down, spooning against me. No space between us. Between the crying and still recovering from my surgeries, the tiredness engulfs me. My wrists throb bitterly, and I’m achy all over from the exertion. My skin pulls especially tight along three incision marks. I can only hope my insides have healed enough to not reopen.

Hitting him was stupid. For so many reasons.

“You might hate me, honey,” comes his gruff whisper. “But somewhere along the way, I fell for you. It’s my fault. I shoulda told Mamie to shut the fuck up right then and there. Fuck.”

God, I’m such a bitch. The way he’s taken care of me, of my daughter while I recover. What a terrible, heartless thing to say.

“No.” I sniff, then whisper back, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you Duke.” I sniff a second time. “I just hurt so badly, I needed you to hurt too. I’m sorry. He was just…. He was like the brother I never had, you know? We spent so much time together, and now he’s gone. What am I supposed to do?”

“You lean on me,” he answers without a hint of hesitation. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.” And he does have me. His arms wrap even snugger around me, his body practically cocoons me. But if I allow myself to fall into his protection, I just might break down again. And my head hurts too much to cry anymore. Which leaves me only one option, to change the subject.

“Any leads on the black SUV?” I ask. Monotone. Business-like. Drained.

“Houdini’s gonna die,” is his only response.

Eventually exhaustion carries me under. Thankfully, I don’t dream. A welcome reprieve from the heartache to heal, even if just for a night. When I wake, Duke’s side of the bed is cold. Jade plays with her Barbies scattered all over the rug on the living room floor, and Hero sits on my blue jean sectional watching a program on the television.

How had my sectional ended up here?

Before I can ask, Hero beats me to it. “Since Duke’s sofa broke, we brought it over this morning. You want some coffee?” He asks.

Coffee. Yes. I look down at my feet, and that’s when I realize how I must appear. Still wearing the black sundress from yesterday. My hair and face must look a fright. “Yes, please.” I answer him, then turn for Jade’s bathroom.

Sure enough, mascara tracks have dried in streaks down my face and my hair, a frizzy mess, sticks out all over from the once pretty bun.

Using one of Jade’s moisturizing wet wipes, I scrub at the makeup until I can pass for human again. And I’m able to pick out the hairpins holding my disheveled bun in place. But the dress, I can’t do the zipper. And I need help with the shower.

“Where’s Duke?” I ask when I make my way back out to the kitchen where there’s a steaming mug of coffee, sandy blond, on the island. I raise an eyebrow at Hero. “How’d you know?”

“Before he left, he told me you like the crème brûlée, and it should be sandy blond. So I guessed.” But I’ll note, he doesn’t tell me where Duke is.

“You draw the short straw?” I ask, then.

He cocks his head, face wearing his puzzlement.

“Guard duty,” I finish.

“Volunteered.” He counters.

What? “Why on earth would you do that? Jesse’s dead.”

“And that would be why. You and Jade need protection. I don’t have an old lady, but if I did, I’d hope a brother would step up to help protect her when I couldn’t be around. And our prez has enough to worry about. So here I am.”

“Elise loves you,” I blurt. “She says if she hadn’t met Boss first, that she’d have gone stalker over you.”

He laughs at my assessment of the situation. “Yeah, so she’s said. But as she did meet Boss first, and those two are head over heels for each other, I won’t get my ass handed to me for you saying that. Did she tell you before or after you and Duke hooked up?”

“After. When I told her I had a crush on…” I exhale slowly. Bringing his name into the conversation hurts. “Jesse.”

His face falls, and we both remain quiet for a minute before I voice what needs to be voiced. “I should leave here, shouldn’t I?”

“Excuse my language, but fuck no. Duke needs you here. I wasn’t around when his wife was alive, but from what the brothers say, you’ve changed him. Given him back something he was missing in his life.”

Of course, I open my mouth to dispute him, but am once again cut off by a sexy biker.

“And before you argue, one thing we know about Houdini, if he’s got a taste for you, he’ll hunt you down. Learned the hard way with Liv and Elise. Especially Elise. Your ass needs to stay put where we can protect you. None of us knew how he was gonna strike, so he took us off guard. That was his one chance. One.”

“But maybe—” I protest.

“One, Caity.” He cuts me off.

Because I know he expects me to, I nod once. Though the jury is still out if I exactly believe him or not. I mean, weren’t they already supposed to be vigilant? So how did he take them off guard? Yet somehow now I’ve got a psychopath after my daughter, and he tried to kill us.

And if that isn’t enough reason to grab my girl and run away, to a different continent if necessary… or have a nervous breakdown, hell maybe just be out-of-it drunk for a month or two, there’s yet another problem to deal with as a result of this hopeless situation.

“I’m going to lose all my patients,” I tell Hero, holding up my casted wrists so he gets the gist of what I mean. But it’s not just that. After having to take that week off after Jade’s injury, I was back for a week before the accident, and my subsequent week stay in the hospital. And still recovering, I haven’t been cleared to go back to work. Not that I could with casted wrists.

“Wouldn’t bet on it.” He offers with a knowing smile as he rounds the island, mug in hand and stops in front of the coffee pot. He pours himself a refill, then turns to lean his bottom against the edge of the counter, feet crossed at the ankles and an arm across his stomach. With the other, he lifts the mug to his lips, takes a sip and winces because it’s hot coffee, then goes on. “Not if all the flowers and cards dropped by the front gate or all the casseroles from those brave enough to approach Duke mean anything.”

To prove his point, he leans over and pulls open the door to the refrigerator. The completely full refrigerator. Every shelf stacked with glass or aluminum casserole dishes. Then to really drive his point home, he opens the freezer.

“Those are all from—”

“Your patients.” He cuts me off. “My count, you and Duke are gonna be eating tuna noodle casserole and lasagna for a year.” The jerk laughs as he shuts both the refrigerator and freezer doors, and then resumes his spot against the counter sipping hot coffee while I stand stunned into silence.

My patients aren’t mad that they have to deal with Dr. Misogynist-who-doesn’t-do-house-calls again? And for who knows how long?

“Jesus, Caity. You look constipated.”

So Hero’s a hot young biker who works a tight pair of jeans like a workaholic, could easily grace the cover of a romance novel and has a smile that could induce an orgasm just from aiming it at a girl. I walk over to him, over my stupor, and knee him in the boys. Albeit, my movements are slow and choppy due to my injuries and thus easily defendable. Thus, causing no pain except for maybe the one in his side from laughing at me.

“Mama,” Jade calls over to me. “Can I pway outside?”

Bad mom award. With all the heavy and latter not-so-heavy tête-à-têtes happening this morning, I forgot my girl was sitting in the living room, probably soaking up every bit of our conversation. “Sure Princess Jade, we can go out back. But first, you have to help Mom unzip her dress. I need to take a shower.”

Jade jumps up to help me but is stopped by Hero. “Sorry. Breakfast first, then shower.” When I roll my eyes at him, he holds his hand up for me to stop. “Duke’s orders. He said you’d argue about eating, but I wasn’t to let you out of the kitchen until you ate something. So sit your ass down, and I’ll fix your breakfast.”

Breakfast? Is he serious?

Jesse is dead, while Jade and I walk around with big, neon targets painted on our backs inviting Houdini to take his best shot. My man left me alone in bed, cold and casted, to go off doing God knows what, which means it probably has to do with the accident. Although, no one will explain a god dammed thing to me about the case. Do they have any leads? Are they planning a counterattack? Would it be safer for me to take Jade and visit my parents for a few weeks?

Because, I will repeat, Jade and I have big-freaking-neon, Houdini-inviting targets on our backs.

And they’re worried about breakfast?

I love that these men want to take care of us. Though I could live without the not listening to me because I don’t wear a patch or because I have a vagina, part. I don’t have the strength to fight it out today, which leaves me one choice. “You and Jade eat anything you like, but I’ll just have some yogurt and fresh fruit.”