Page 114 of Where We Ended

“She gets an actual member’s cut because we know that if we need Natty, she’ll be there for us in a heartbeat. She’ll always be one of us no matter what happens.”

A smile crept up my face, actually enjoying their antics. Stupid fuckers were actually pretty funny.

“Fine. I’ll ride with you when you need me.”

Jameson pointed. “And be sure to wear your property patch when you do.”

I walked out of the room, giving all three men the finger.

It was agonizing sitting on the floor, experiencing the grief of the people in this room while they put Brooks and Red’s things into boxes.

“Callie, do you remember this?” Killian asked, holding up some piece of pottery that had clearly been done by a child.

Callie started laughing while also crying. She did both, frequently.

“They were the victims of so many of our school projects.”

Killian smiled again. “I gave them an entire diorama I made once.”

“Do you think they ever cared that we just kept bringing them stuff?”

Simon Stone piped up from the corner. “They loved every second of it. You were the kids they never got to have.”

That made my chest feel tight. It took a lot to make me emotional, but suddenly I was on the verge of tears. Maybe because my mother was here with them as they sorted through Red’s things, or perhaps it was because my wife was silently crying as she packed the kitchen. But, fuck, the mood was somber.

I left them all in the living room where I’d been packing boxes and pulled Natty’s hips until her back was nestled against my chest. She set the dishes down, and abruptly turned, flinging her arms around my neck, burying her face into my shirt.

Sobs escaped her as she shook in my arms, and I just held her. The murmurs in the living room grew quiet as Natty continued to break.

“She hated these dishes.” She pulled away, pointing at the offending items. Her face was blotchy and wet.

Laura appeared in the archway, pursing her lips while she watched us.

“What would Red do if she were here, knowing she had to pack something we hated?”

Natty sniffed, swiping at her face, then let out a sweet laugh.

“She’d smash ‘em.”

“She wouldn’t keep any of this stuff…I mean, she loved the minimal lifestyle. She saved her money for her makeup, her leather riding gear, and their road trips. They’d want all of it spread out, given away or used in a bonfire.” Natty looked around, folding an old tattered dish towel.

Simon appeared in the doorway. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll say goodbye properly before we bury them. And we’ll say goodbye to you too, Natty.”

I marveled at the way Natty beamed, as if having Simon offer to say goodbye to her, or give her a send off from The Stone Riders meant something to her. It still warmed some dead place inside of me when I realized how settled she’d become here.

We continued to work, but it all felt a little lighter, now that we knew we would be burning their stuff and smashing a shit ton of dishes. The night fell quicker than any of us anticipated. Natty started drinking with Laura, and the two seemed to have the most fun out of any of us as they danced under the starry sky, raising their bottles of bourbon while loud music roared from the speakers, and Stone Riders remembered two of their most revered members.

I sat on the edge of an abandoned car that had made its way into the back; apparently, it had been caught on fire at some point. But it made for a good place to observe this community that had adopted my wife and helped her discover who she wanted to be. That gave her people to love, to grieve, and to miss. Friends who cried with her, drank with her and held her while she was sad. Raw, unfamiliar joy spread through me like all that sunshine I was always craving from Caelum.

A fresh feeling of hope burst in that organ that had felt dead for so long.

This was our home, our future…these would become our friends. The people we’d spend our holidays with, and I’d have to call to help plan her birthdays. Because while I’d been raised as a Destroyer, accepted becoming a Death Raider, it looked like, through love, I’d reluctantly and permanently become a Stone Rider.

THIRTY-ONE

NATTY

PRESENT DAY

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