Page 12 of Roses and Skulls

Jackson drums his fingers over the steering wheel. “You know, that’s a tough one for me, Rosie. I took an oath to the club.”

I roll my eyes and lean over to pet the bird. She’s getting anxious being in the truck. She’s scared.

“Fine, I’ll keep it to myself. Tell me,” he says, giving in rather quickly.

Sitting back, I decide I’ll tell him the truth, some of it anyway.I went to the bar.

His face falls. “Rosie.”

It’s fine. I just wanted to see it the way it was before the new owner changes everything. Okay? It’s no big deal.

“I would have gone with you. Why do you think you have to face everything on your own?”

The roar of bikes coming up behind us, interrupts our conversation.You told them you found me.

He chuckles. “I value my nuts, Rosie. I’m going to make some pretty awesome babies someday.”

I drop my head back against the seat, typing while preparing myself for the storm that is coming.Lame.

My mom is already standing in the middle of the parking lot when we pull in.

When I hop out, she rushes towards me, wrapping me in her arms. “Thank god,” she cries, pushing my hair out of my face to inspect me.

I just stand there and let her do what it is she does.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

Yes, this tattooed, bad ass wife to the president of the Skulls, just called me sweetie.

“She’s fine Aunt Jesse,” Jackson answers for me. “She was at the bar.”

Fucking traitor. I give him the finger before my dad pulls me out of my mom’s arms and does the exact same thing she just did, patting me all over to see if I’m broken. I am, but not where they can see.

“I swear to god, little girl, do you think I need any more grey hairs?” he asks, his eyebrow at an alarmingly scary angle.

“She was at the bar, Dirk,” my mom says quietly, squeezing his arm.

The entire club is gathering around. I fold my arms across my chest, determined to stand strong. No cracks, no cracks, no cracks.

My dad cups my face in his hands, kissing me on the forehead. He stays there for several seconds before pulling away. He turns around and thanks everyone for helping look for me. I feel five years old again, like the time I strayed off the path in woods behind the warehouse and got lost. Everyone came looking and thankfully my dad found me before it got dark. I felt guilty but grateful back then. Today… well, today I don’t know.

I can’t breathe with them hovering over me all the time. They think I’m right here, safe with them but what they don’t see is I’m still lost. And I guess right now that’s how I like it. It’s fine. I don’t need to talk to them about what happened, about how much I miss grandpa. It’s easier being trapped inside the cage I built for myself.

Shit, the bird!

The crowd disperses except for my uncles, Jackson, and my parents.

I turn back to the truck and tug the cage out. The crow squawks loudly, frightened by the sudden movement.

My mom takes one look at me and turns a pasty white. Before my brain processes what is going on, she’s lying flat on her back in the parking lot. My dad and Raffe hover over her, patting her cheeks and rubbing her chest. She blinks at them a few times, then starts to whisper feverishly, “Crow, it’s a crow.”

Jackson looks at me, mouthing silently, “What the fuck?”

I shrug my shoulders and look at the bird. Draven wasn’tlettingme take this bird… he was hoping I would.

“I’m…” My mom looks at the bird in the cage and then at me. She plasters a fake smile on her face. “I was just startled.” She tries to get up, but my dad stops her, picking her up and setting her in the truck.

“I’m taking her to get checked out. She hit her head pretty hard,” he tells us.

---