Page 69 of The Grief We Hold

I shake my head. “You know my name, you know where my clubhouse is, and you sure as fuck know the way to my home.”

When I found Hallie and Lottie, the first person I called was Butcher. Butcher called Tanner. Said the more eyes looking for their killers, the better. It was the first time I ever heard him suggest the cops as an option. He said it with tears in his eyes and a throat as raw and dry as my own.

Tanner was first cop on scene. The way he handled that moment set the tone for our future relationship. Questioning whether I’d killed my own fucking family, whether it was abuse, before looking at the security footage I wanted to show him.

The footage that showed four men breaking into my house at three minutes after ten in the morning and leaving twelve minutes later.

“Mr. Fischer,” Tanner says firmly.

“You can shove the formalities up your ass,” I say, cutting him off before he insults me further. “That woman over there shouldn’t be here with her kid. If you see shit like this, you can’t unsee it. I’m taking her back to her place because what just happened is enough to rattle anyone. Her kid shouldn’t be all she has to lean on today.”

“She’s in the middle of giving her statement. It can?—”

I cut my glare away from Tanner to my president. “You got this, Butcher?”

He nods in understanding. “I’ll make sure Margie is taken care of and this place is locked down once the circus is finished.”

I’m just on my way to Raven when Margie cuts me off, practically falling into my arms for a hug. “Did you get them?” she asks quietly.

I know what she means. Did we catch them up? Are they all dead? She was an Outlaw old lady. She knows the score.

I shake my head. “We didn’t. But they’ll pay, Ma. I promise.”

“Thanks for calling the boys in to help with cleanup. They aren’t gonna let us do anything here until they’re finished with it as a crime scene.”

I put my palms on her shoulders and nudge her away a little. I know she’s looking for comfort, like many people do when they’re scared. But I can’t be it for her. “Butcher is gonna make sure it’s secure for you. Call him when you need the club’s help shuttering it up.”

I can see the confusion etch her face when it hits her. “Why wouldn’t I call you?”

“Because I have other shit I need to do.” I don’t elaborate.

“You aren’t going to be here?”

Raven crouches, teary-eyed, to say something to Fen, who is sobbing. He throws his arms around her neck, and it’s enough to break Raven. They cry together.

“No, Ma. I’m gonna get Raven and Fen out of this shitshow. Little kid shouldn’t be caught up in the middle of this.”

“Are you coming back?” she asks. But there’s a hint of derision in her tone. Her eyes narrow as she understands what I’m saying.

“Not tonight.”

“But what about Hallie and?—”

“Stop.”

I can’t think about Hallie or Lottie or my mother-in-law. Not right now when I can hear and feel Fen’s distress. There’s blood on Raven’s uniform, probably mine, hopefully not hers.

When Fen sees me, he breaks free of Raven’s grip and runs to me. “Wraith.”

I bend down and pick him up, holding him to me as his little arms snap around me, and I feel the drip of warm tears on my neck. I place my palm on the side of his face, hiding the chaos from him.

The wounds I carry, not just to my body, burn and stretch as I walk to Raven, but I wouldn’t have it any other way in this moment.

I reach for her hand, and she grabs mine tightly. Everything that has already happened between us disappears in the need to comfort and be comforted. I squeeze my fingers around her cold ones.

“I’m taking her home,” I say to the young officer taking her statement.

I can see the panic when it registers who he’s dealing with. “But…she’s in the middle of giving her?—”

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