Page 74 of Where We Ended

I caught Natty’s confused expression as she watched them approach. I was about to walk over to her and take her hand, when she lunged from the porch and ran toward the group.

NINETEEN

NATTY

AGE TWENTY-THREE

Winter no longer guaranteed that Silas would be home.

His required time with his father had come and gone, and for some reason he continued to return to the viper’s nest.

Being his wife didn’t guarantee that I’d see him either or have any of his time. I was subject to waiting around for him just like his best friend, Lance, and his mother Sasha. We all danced around the subject, as if the mere mention of Silas Silva was the equivalent of saying a curse or talking about the boogeyman.

The Roman was being tossed around more often than his real name anyway. This notorious tale of a man with a heart as dark as night: black and hate-filled as he tortured his victims, working as the executioner for The Destroyers. It was all just talk between drunk bikers, looking to one up each other with stories.

But at night, I’d hold his pillow to my chest and let my lungs expand with the hope that all those stories were false. Just far-fetched tales made up and exaggerated. Because my husband couldn’t withstand any more darkness in that heart of his.

Which was why I didn’t understand this need of his to return to his father…

“You look sad, Artie. It’s almost Christmas.”

I glanced up at the man who’d just crowded the space next to me at the bar. Alec’s dark hair was slicked back, revealing his blue eyes and long lashes. He sipped from a dark bottle of beer as he assessed every inch of my face. My eyes, lips, and ears.

It was as though he was looking for what might be different about me since the last time he’d laid that confusing glare on me.

In another life, I’d toss my left hand out and boast about being married to his brother. I’d gush over being his family now and laugh about how we would spend the holidays together. In this life, no one knew I was married to Silas because he was worried it would put too big of a target on my back. One larger than the property patch he put there.

I had no ring on my finger, and no proof at all that Silas and I had actually said those vows to one another that humid summer night, nearly four years ago.

“I’m not sad, just tired.” I finally quipped back at Alec, curious why he was at this bar of all places.

I wasn’t in Pyle, which, if Silas were here, he’d likely have a meltdown over…but he was gone, again, and Christmas was in two days.

I’d begged him to stay, and he begged me to understand why he had to leave. There was also the small issue of Dirk watching my every move, and when he was able to get me alone…it wasn’t pleasant.

Alec pushed in closer, so I could hear him over the noise. “You’re not wearing your property patch.”

No, I wasn’t. But not for the reasons he assumed.

“This isn’t a biker bar…and this town isn’t Death Raider territory. I’m not trying to cause any waves by being here.”

Alec seemed to understand, which was probably why he wasn’t wearing his cut either. He’d recently pledged with the Sons of Speed, a club a few hours west of Pyle. I hadn’t seen him in a few years…but Lance had mentioned it once in front of me, which was the only way I knew anything about Alec’s life.

“Why are you here?” I volleyed back, curious now why he was so far east.

His lips quirked up while he took a long pull of his beer. “Thought I’d spend the holidays with family…my mom lives in Rose Ridge now.”

“She does?” That surprised me…mostly because I knew nothing about his mother, or him.

He laughed, dipping his head.

“Yeah, she died last winter from an overdose. They tossed her in a grave down at the Rose Ridge cemetery, flat stone the size of a brick over the top of her grave. Might as well have kept it unmarked; it wasn’t like anyone would care enough to visit her.”

I sipped my soda water and focused on the way his eyes turned contemplative.

“Not even you?”

His face lifted. “No…not even me…thought maybe I could find someone to fuck out there, right on top of her grave as a nice Merry Christmas and fuck you to her.”

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