It was a never-ending afternoon. Defining the turnout at the funeral as “impressive” would be an enormous understatement. It seemed like the whole town had shown up. Alyssa always knew that—as a well-respected neurosurgeon who loved to take up extra shifts at the local E.R.—her father had been very popular. She also knew that her mother had helped countless of kids come out of their shell and express their full potential throughout her years of teaching at Pinebrook Primary School. But while suspecting about her parents’ popularity with the town’s people was one thing, getting to experience it firsthand was a different matter entirely.
Alyssa had spent the past eight years and especially the past three days cursing the town of Pinebrook with every fiber of her being, but as it turned out, that day the people of Pinebrook were unexpectedly the ones to bring her the comfort she so desperately needed. She was deeply touched by how eager they were to celebrate her parents’ life. She had heard about tragedy bringing people together, but she never knew what that meant until today.
To her surprise, the Devil’s Fighters did not attend; they contented themselves with sending a massive wreath of daisies and a note that Alyssa didn’t bother to read. She couldn’t decide whether the fact that they had eventually opted for not showing their faces made her feel better or worse. They weren’t invisible, like she would have wanted. Even though they were not physically there, they made sure their presence was registered. Bennie Lenday’s gesture may be masked as one of respect, but it was really a gesture of scorn. Alyssa could order the Devil’s Fighters out of her world all she wanted, but she was in Pinebrook, and it was still their territory whether she liked it or not. Throughout the ceremony, every time Alyssa looked at the wreath of daises by the open grave that would host her parents’ coffins, she wanted to throw up.
Throughout the day, she lost count of the times she heard the word “condolences.” She was starting to loathe that word. At the very least, unlike for a certain MC president, it meant something in those people’s mouths.
Alyssa braved it all as best as she could—the wake, the funeral, the reception. Packed in the relatively small space of Lynn’s diner—at least, smaller than the cemetery—the people seemed even more numerous than what she had estimated at first. It was overwhelming in more than one way, and by the time the midafternoon hours rolled along, Alyssa felt trapped.
She had to get out of there, but she knew she couldn’t go far. So she contented herself with sneaking out of the place and leaning against the wall of the building outside. She could still hear the buzzing of the voices coming from inside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was still scorching hot out, and she deeply wished she wasn’t dressed all in black. She also wished she could have a cigarette right now, even though she had not smoked in ages.
“You look like you might need a smoke.”
Alyssa’s eyes flew open. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Sure enough, standing a few feet away and looking nothing like she remembered, was Prince Wheeler.
He had grown, if possible, even taller—or maybe it was just the way he carried himself. Back when they had been each other’s world, Prince was insecure and tended to slouch a little in order to make himself disappear. Not anymore. He walked tall and proud, and he exuded a kind of self-assurance that he had never possessed before.
He was clean-shaved, but there was nothing innocent about his features. Prince used to have eyes wide with wonder—despite a childhood that could have made it into an inspirational self-help tale—and delicate features courtesy of his family’s French origins. Not anymore. There was a darkness in his once-clear, green eyes and lines on his handsome face that weren’t there before.
His wavy, unruly brown hair once gave him the look of an angel. Now, the errant strands that fell in front of his face did nothing but enhance the shadows in his eyes.
It was Prince, and yet it wasn’t. It was a man who bore no trace of resemblance to the boy he had been, and that threw Alyssa almost more than the fact that she was seeing him again for the first time in over eight years.
Her stomach, which had been in knots for the whole day, clenched even tighter, so much so that for a moment she feared she would throw up on his biker’s boots. Right. His biker’s boots. Alyssa ran her gaze over his whole figure and, after his startling appearance, she allowed herself to also take in his clothes. Black jeans, white T-shirt, and a damnable black leather vest that bore the sigil of the Devil’s Fighters. The red Satan mocked her from above the small pocket on the vest’s right breast, and Alyssa knew an even bigger version would be printed on the back.
She experienced an almost overwhelming wave of disgust that she never thought she would one day feel towards Prince of all people.
“Hello, Alyssa,” he said, in a voice roughened by something more than the years.
Swallowing hard against the rush of emotion, Alyssa finally unglued herself from the brick wall of the exterior of the diner. She, too, stood as tall as the weight of the past few days would allow.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, doing her best to keep as cool a demeanor as she could, given the circumstances.
He looked at her like she had just asked the dumbest question he had ever heard. “Where else would I be?”
“Are you here on behalf of your friends?”
Could that be? Could Benedict Lenday have sent Prince to offer the club’s condolences because he knew it would hurt her even more? She really wouldn’t be surprised if that turned out to be the case.
“I’m not,” Prince said firmly. “I’m here on my own behalf. For you. I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“Really, Aly?” Prince gave her a small, tired smile. “Do you have to ask?”
“Don’t call me Aly,” Alyssa snapped automatically. “You’ve lost that privilege long ago.” She was being petty; she knew that, but she really couldn’t help it. She was emotionally exhausted and in no condition to bury her feelings.
Prince nodded. “Touché,” he said.
Alyssa was surprised. She had expected him to argue, shift the blame. She had expected him to justify himself. Then again, she reflected, that was probably something the old Prince would have done; this new Prince was just too confident to keep explaining herself to someone who didn’t want to hear it.
Because that was exactly the case, Alyssa realized. She didn’t want to hear it. In fact, she didn’t want to hear anything that he might have to say.
“I have to get back inside,” she said.
“Wait.”
Prince reached out quickly and grabbed her by the arm, closing his fingers around her wrist in a firm grip.
Alyssa turned around, surprised. What did he want from her? She looked down at his hand on her skin, and she thought that it just didn’t belong there anymore.
“What?” she asked tartly.
“I’m sorry, Alyssa,” Prince said. His green eyes shone with a deep, heartfelt sorrow that for a moment reminded her of the boy she had once known. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Alyssa stared at him, not knowing what to say. And then she realized that he wasn’t talking about what had happened between them. He wasn’t talking about how he had turned his back on her and their future together. He wasn’t talking about how he had thrown away his life to consort with a bunch of outlaws.
He was talking about her parents.
Alyssa felt a sharp pang of pain shooting across her whole being. She tugged sharply and freed herself of his hold.
“Thank you,” she said icily.
“When I heard—”
“I said, thank you,” Alyssa cut him off sharply.
Prince sighed. “You really don’t want to talk, even for a minute?”
“Is there anything to say?” She regarded him defiantly, daring to find some sort of common ground that they both knew didn’t exist anymore.
He seemed to deflate for a moment as he, too, admitted defeat. “I guess not,” he said quietly.
Alyssa stared at him for a few moments’ longer. She drank him in, fully knowing that—God willing—she wouldn’t have another chance. Then, she nodded curtly and went back inside.
Unsurprisingly, Lynn rushed up to her as soon as she was past the threshold.
“Oh my God!” her friend said in a half-whisper. “Are you okay?”
Alyssa shrugged. She wanted to say, “I’m fine,” but she just didn’t have it in her.
“I think I’m going to head home,” she said. “I’ve had enough for one day.”
Lynn nodded. “Of course.”
Alyssa took a deep breath and went about saying goodbye and thanking everyone for coming, which turned out to be yet another endless affair. Every once in a while, between a handshake and a hug, she would glance outside. Prince wasn’t there anymore, and she wasn’t sure whether she was happy or sad about it.