Page 102 of Ordinary Girl

“About twenty minutes,” Skip replies, because I can’t. I’m too messed up, too worried. Too fucking scared. And then Skip’s phone indicates the arrival of a message, which he reads, andthen he looks at me and gives me one quick nod. Just one. It’s done. And I breathe a sigh of relief that at least one job today went without a hitch. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Maybe it would be best if you both waited outside,” Mads says, without looking up. And I feel that wave of panic grow stronger as it threatens to engulf me. And I’m about to open my mouth to say something, but Skip shakes his head and guides me out onto the landing, closing the door behind him.

“What the fuck have I done?” I say, dragging a hand through my hair as I start pacing the floor. “I didn’t see her, Skip, I swear…”

“I know.” Skip’s calmer now. “I know. She wasn’t meant to be there, I get that, Jesus, that kid! We asked her to do one fucking thing…” He takes a deep breath, reaching for the packet of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. “Let’s just hope we got her here in time… Come on. Let’s take a minute.”

We go back downstairs, out into the alleyway, both of us lighting up, the hit of nicotine welcome.

“Shit!” I lean back against the wall, throw my head back and close my eyes. I’m taking that minute. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I…” I can’t say the words. I can’t saylose her, because I refuse to believe that that could happen.

“She’s going to be okay, Joel.”

He can’t be sure of that, he’s just telling me what I need to hear in an attempt to calm me down. And, okay, I’m starting to feel a little calmer now, or maybe it’s just resignation kicking in.

“She’s going to be okay,” Skip repeats, and I look at him, and his expression carries more than a hint of panic. He wants me to acknowledge what he’s saying, because if we both believe it then it might be true. “Jesus!” he sighs, throwing himself back against the wall and taking a long, deep drag on his cigarette. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down.”

He got that right.

“What if I can’t do it, Skip. What if I’m not good enough.”

Skip’s eyes narrow, his expression changing to something close to annoyance. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Being President of the Vikings. What if I’m just not cut out for it?”

“You pick your fucking times for a pity-party.” He looks away, glancing around him, taking rapid, successive drags, and his body language is all over the place. “If you don’t think you’re good enough, Joel, then walk away. Leave it alone.” Another drag. Another plume of smoke blown up into the air. “But you’re not that guy.” His eyes meet mine. “You aren’t that fucking guy,” he repeats, jabbing his cigarette in my direction. “You’re just feeling fucked up because of what’s happened.”

“One of us should be at the clubhouse. Rik’s going to be calling round any time now, once word of the hit on the Blackhawks gets out.”

“Wade can handle it.”

Neither of us want to leave Ana. But we know we can’t risk letting this entire operation run out of control.

“They aren’t going to find out about Renard and Bagdonas, that one’s off the radar. And we can handle the Hawks’ hit. Rik knows the score. Deep down, he knew something like this was coming.”

Rik’s paid to fire fight our shit, Skip’s right. But I still think one of us should be at the clubhouse. And it should be Skip. And he gets that, I can tell by the way his shoulders sag, his head falling back as he sighs.

“I’ll send someone over with a car.” He stubs his cigarette out on the wall behind him. “Keep your head down. And let me know what happens here.”

I nod and watch as Skip gets in the car and reverses slowly down the alleyway before driving off. I drop to my haunches, drop my head into my hands, and I take a breath. A deep one,exhaling slowly as I hear footsteps coming down the stairs; feel a hand on my shoulder.

“You’d better come inside, Joel.”

Forty-One

One Month Later

Joel

If you love someone, set them free, isn’t that what they say? Yeah, well, let me tell you, that’s fucking bullshit! I loved her, I set her free, and it broke my fucking heart. But, you know, I guess nearly killing her gave her a whole different outlook on things, including me. It changed everything. She survived, and she told me she didn’t blame me, she couldn’t, it was her fault she was there. She knew that. She said that. It was all on her, but it brought it home how dangerous this world can be. So she walked away, left it all behind; this world, and me. She told me she loved me too, but she still walked away. And I let her go. What else could I do?

Do I know where she went? Not exactly. I know she went to look for her friends, the ones we’d kept her away from, and I say she went tolookfor them, she already knew where they were. She didn’t have an address or anything like that, and she wouldn’t tell me where she was going, which fucking killed me, but the one thing she did tell me was that Lars and Lea weren’t where we thought they were, something we now know was down to Renard. But he’d given her enough information to make sure she had more than a fighting chance of finding them. That’s why she’d been there that day, at the house. The day we ended her father and his henchman. The day I’d almost, accidently, killed her. She’d gone there for his help. He knew exactly where Lars and Lea were, because he’d put them there. He’d spoken to them, convinced them that he could keep them safe, that wecouldn’t be trusted. And he’d been using that to draw Ana closer. He wanted to give her a new life, with people she loved, but I loved –loveher. I love her so fucking much my heart hurts every fucking day. I miss her. But I’m President now, this club needs me, we’ve been through too much for me to be weak in any way. And to be honest, I need this club to take my mind off her, it gives me something to focus on. But I’m not sure how much longer I can go on before this need to find her wins out. I thought time was supposed to be a great healer, but that’s bullshit, too.

We were in the frame for the hit on the Blackhawks’ clubhouse, and that was only to be expected. But without any actual evidence there wasn’t much the police could do. We’re always one step ahead, and they know that, and they also know that one of their own is helping us to stay that way, but Rik’s very good at covering his tracks. Did we succeed in bringing the entire Blackhawks MC down? No. But that wasn’t our aim, not that time. We just wanted them to pay for what they did to Sofia. To Ana. The war between our clubs goes on, for now, maybe it always will, I don’t know. Right now, we’re just going about our business. Keeping our eyes on our enemies. Making money and living a life most of us weren’t born into, we were drawn to it because we were lost and needed somewhere to belong. That’s why my brothers are fiercely loyal, we need to protect our world. I’d wanted to protecther, and instead I’d almost killed her. I relive that fucking day every night, I close my eyes and see her fall to the floor and I wake up and wish things were different. They’re not. But, man, sometimes shit takes some getting used to. And I’m still getting used to living without her…

Ana

Of course I don’t blame him for what happened. Most of it is still a blur to me, the first I knew of anything was when I woke upin a strange, sterile, white-walled room, pain flooding my body, for a second or two, until a kind nurse with a friendly smile administered more medication.

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