“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” He ignores my chastisement, his words hard as iron.
His fingers sear my skin where they touch, and as our eyes connect, my pulse stutters.
“Yeah, Trick, I get it, but?—”
His voice cracks as he interrupts. “Those fucking Pioneer pricks would love the chance to hurt anyone connected to me or the club. Do you have any idea what they would do to you if they caught you?” The emotion that ripples through him is so unguarded, it brings a lump to my throat. “I don’t want to bury you, Heidi. I won’t survive losing anyone else.”
My heart squeezes so tight, I can hardly breathe. The pain in his voice guts me. I stare up at him, barely drawing in air. He’s as lost in his grief as I am, but he wears his more overtly.
“I’m sorry I left alone,” I yield. “I just… I needed time away from everything.”
He releases me and my skin is hot where his fingers were pressed. I watch as he moves to the edge of the cot, his hand skimming over his daughter’s head. She babbles at him, a bunch of nonsense sounds that will soon form into words, among them ‘dada’, which she’s been saying a lot lately. It’s as if she knows he needs to hear it.
His shoulders sag and his head drops toward his chest.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve put too much on you, too many expectations. Sophia isn’t your problem, and I’m trying to step up and be the father she needs, but the truth is I can’t do this alone.”
I frown at him. “Of course, you can.”
“Okay,” he amends, “I don’t want to do it alone. Sophia needs you. I fucking need you.”
That lump in my throat is growing. “You don’t need me. You’re doing fine, and I’m not saying she’s a problem,” I assure him. “I love her, Trick, as if she’s my own, but you don’t need a random person living in your spare room forever.”
“Well, it’s a good fucking thing you’re not random then, isn’t it?” He shakes his head, anger in the gesture. “No more leaving without Bobby.”
I stare at his bare back, the Sons tattoo spread between his shoulders. The things we’ve been through in the last few years are enough to drive anyone crazy.
“I went to the cemetery,” I admit, my voice quiet.
His head snaps up, and I see the ripple of emotion work through him. “To see Crow?”
I nod. “And Mara.”
His brows twitch before drawing together. “I didn’t know they were buried in the same place.”
That admission surprises me. Did nobody think to tell him where they put his wife?
Why didn’t I?
Trick was gone by the time we had Mara’s funeral, and no one could contact him to tell him what was planned. Just like with Sophia, choices were made without him, but it makes my stomach ache knowing he’s so out of the loop.
I see now the pain in his eyes and the sorrow that follows him around like a lost, rabid puppy. Trick is drowning in a stormy river, and he’s desperately trying to keep his head above the water.
“I can take you sometime, if you want me to,” I offer.
He doesn’t answer right away. “Yeah. That’d be good.”
“It’s a nice spot Howler picked for her.”
He flinches, and the kind thing to do would be to stop, but he has to learn to talk about her. Mara will always be a part of their lives.
I should probably take that same advice. At least Trick isn’t hiding his truth.
“Good,” he clips.
“You should go with Sophia, show her where her mother is.”
He lifts his head, and I expect to see pain there, but his shutters are down and his anguish is buried once more.