Page 56 of Blood of Vengeance

“Understandable.” She stood at the edge of the lot with me, both of us looking over the crowd of bikers waiting for the creepiest-looking man I had ever met—Popper the mortician, according to Flinch—to begin the actual burning. My dad’s body lay draped in black on a slab that would eventually be pushed into a furnace-like thing. I didn’t know the name, but I had to assume it was the same setup as a crematorium. Except maybe in the human world, they didn’t allow parking-lot access so people could watch the actual burning. Again, first time—I had no idea what “normal” was.

“Have you ever been to a service like this?” I asked, curious if my small family had simply left me unprepared for such things.

“No. I don’t think any human has ever been to a service like this.”

Her wording caught my attention, and I slid a sly gaze in her direction. “Human?”

Zella looked my way, not backing down. “Locklyn.”

I sighed. The woman had a way of pulling truths out of me. I had kept Chiggy’s secret for him, had done what he’d asked, but Chiggy was dead. And I had somehow managed to get my best friend involved in his world without her knowing about him. That seemed wrong.

“My dad…he wasn’t human.”

“Okay.”

I swallowed hard, knowing the words would sound absolutely ridiculous. Wondering if she was going to try to send me on a grippy-sock vacation when I admitted the truth. No way to know but to do it.

“He was a wolf shifter.”

Zella nodded, looking out across the crowd. “I know.”

That had me spinning on the spot. “You know?”

“I do. Your dad told me last time he visited. He knew you would keep his secret, but he wanted me to know just in case something happened to you. Or to him.” She squeezed my hand again, looking out across the crowd and seeming to smile softly at the small group of men that had stayed the closest to us—Flinch, Rush, Cutter, and Mule. Our guards for the event, it seemed. “He loved you so much. He didn’t know how to be a dad, but he loved you in his own way, and he tried for you. He tried so hard.”

I broke. Tears trickled down my face as I fought for air. As the weight of the grief pulled me under and stole all the oxygen from my lungs. Flinch appeared almost immediately, wrapping me in his big, thick arms and pulling me into his chest.

“It’s okay, short stack. I’ve got you.”

And he did. He had me. I curled into his hold and surrendered to the pain losing my dad had wrought. No pretense, no fear of social acceptance, I simply let go and sobbed against Flinch as a hundred or so bikers looked on. As my best friend grabbed my hand and held it, watching over the service right along with me.

And when the furnace started burning, when my dad’s body was pulled into the flames, I cried even harder. Singing my grief through tears as Cutter made a speech I couldn’t listen to and the rest of the Hellions howled to the night sky. I cried and howled and mourned right along with them.

“Ladies.” Cutter slid into our circle, looking over me and then Zella almost apprehensively. “I hope the service for Chiggy was seen as respectful.”

I nodded, tears dry but still clinging to Flinch. Completely drained from my emotional outburst the night had brought.

Thankfully, Zella knew to speak for me. “It was a heartwarming display of your crew’s grief. While Locklyn lost a dad, you and your brothers certainly seemed to have lost someone very special to you.”

Cutter nodded, again looking almost shy or anxious. Not at all how I had seen the man act before. “We have. For sure.” He coughed and took a deep breath, visually re-centering himself. “There will be a celebration of Chiggy’s life at the clubhouse after this. I would like to invite you two ladies to the event and personally guarantee your safety there.”

I looked up at Flinch, who stood frowning at Cutter. Zella also caught my eye, giving me a small shrug with one shoulder as if to say “Up to you.”

“I think that would be nice,” I said, ignoring the way Flinch grabbed my hip tighter at my words. “I appreciate the invitation.”

Cutter nodded, shooting a look at Zella. “Do you need a lift?”

“On your bike?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile that seemed so out of place on his usually hardened face. “It’s the only way to ride.”

Zella’s smile fell. “Thanks, but I should probably?—”

“I’ve got her,” Flinch interrupted, his deep voice a balm on my soul. “Locklyn will be fine with me.”

Zella stared at the man for a long minute, obviously taking his measure. She broke the stare to glance my way for a moment before turning back to Cutter.

“Just give me a minute.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me away, her voice halfway to a whisper as she asked, “Are you okay?”

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