Page 9 of Trick

Always.

Sometimes in the worst possible ways.

I stare at the words, numbness spreading through my body. Theo’s murder hit everyone hard, and Howler’s revenge had been swift against the men who ended my husband’s life.

I close my eyes, trying to ignore the blossoming pain in my chest. I miss Theo every day. Both of us were lost when we found each other. I was close to giving up on everything when he strolled into my life and gave it meaning.

Later, we found the club—the missing piece. I went from having no family to having a huge one. It was the only time in my entire life that I felt safe and protected.

Until that night.

The cold air brings me out of my torturous walk down memory lane. It’s almost summer, but today is unseasonably cold and grey. A shiver rolls through me as the wind picks up.

I lean forward and trail my fingers over the silky marble surface. They’d given Theo a send-off worthy of a king, and I should have seen that for the respectful act it was, but at the time it felt empty to me. I blamed the club for his murder, and I couldn’t get past that for a long time.

I run my fingers through the grass at the side of the grave, letting the quiet settle in around me. I hate coming here, but I have to face my past. Running from it didn’t work. Getting angry did even less. If I’m going to repair my shattered parts, I have to find peace.

But how do I find peace knowing I’ve lost everything?

The darkness I usually bury deep inside me surges to the forefront. Angry tears roll down my cheeks, but crying doesn’t help.

It takes all my strength to push down the emotions I keep buried deeper than my husband’s coffin.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re together,” I say softly as I get to my feet, brushing the dirt off my jeans.

I cut across the grass, making my way over to where Mara is buried. She was a good woman, a good friend, and I have no doubt she would have been a good mother. Her death was a tragedy that still hurts me to this day.

She was nothing more than collateral damage, and it scares me to think that Sophia could face the same path as her mother. The urge to take her and run far from this hell swirls inside me. But I can’t. She’s already lost Mara, I can’t take her father as well. And Trick… he’s trying to make amends. I see it in him every day, and it’s hard to hold onto my anger at him when he’s doing everything he can.

I pause in front of the grave, my insides twisting as I drop to my knees at the side of it. I would give anything to talk to Mara again, even if it’s just for a second. She was my friend—maybe the only true friend I’ve ever had.

“Trick’s doing good,” I say, getting comfortable on the ground.

I know she can’t hear me, but knowing she’s here, underneath the dirt, makes me feel close to her.

“He’s a different person now. Sad and broken. You wouldn’t recognise the man he is, although now and then I see a hint of the old Trick.” My throat tightens. “He’s trying so hard to make amends, but the club isn’t making it easy for him. Rage won’t move on, and the others don’t trust him.” I peer out over the rows of headstones, a sea of lives ended. “If he had any sense, he’d take Sophia far away from this life. It’s fucking cursed.”

Savagely, I pluck a handful of grass out of the soil. Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but it’s a crock of shit. Time does nothing but force you to hide your feelings.

Sure, sympathy comes thick and fast in the first few weeks after a loss, then tolerance fades as the months tick by. After a year, no one wants to talk about your pain or suffering. After two, any remaining emotion is seen as weakness.

I miss my fucking friend so much, and I miss Theo. I miss the life we were creating together and the hope of a future we never got to have.

I place a hand on my hollow stomach, nausea churning through me like curdled milk. I never got to hold my baby. I don’t know if she was a girl, but I wanted a daughter so much that when I think of her, she’s wearing pretty dresses and bows in her hair.

Eleven weeks of her growing inside me was all I got, and it wasn’t enough.

My breath shudders as I let out a sob. I’ve become better at choking down my pain in public, but behind closed doors is another matter. I can’t hide my torment at losing mine and Theo’s child. It was the last piece I had of him, and it was cruelly snatched away from me.

Just like Theo was.

Sophia came into my life at a time when I’d given up on everything. I was drinking too much in order to drown my pain, pretending I was out for a good time when really I just wanted to numb myself. I spat my vitriol out like poison at the club and made enemies where I didn’t need to have any. There were times I wanted my life to end. What was the point without Theo and my child?

Then Sophia was put into my arms, and she gave me a reason to live. I love her with every part of me, and I will always stand between her and anyone who tries to harm her—even the club. She is the light in the darkness that beats around me.

I run my fingers over the top of the headstone before standing, and with a final glance at her grave, I make my way back to the car.

There is no grave for the child I lost, no memorial or remembrance. No one knows about my miscarriage other than Mara and that secret died with her.

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