Page 94 of Roses and Skulls

“How was work?”

Biting my lip, I glance at the wall behind him, fixating on a picture of him and my mom on his Harley. Both are smiling wide, her arms locked around his waist, her head resting on his back. They look young and happy. I want that. I’m tired of feeling unease at every turn.

He follows my gaze with his stormy eyes.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I whisper.

“What did Elijah do?” my dad asks in a low growl.

Shaking my head, I sit back. “Nothing. He didn’t do anything. Jesus, you jump fast.”

“Then why the melancholy?”

My gaze goes back to all the photos on the wall. My club. My family. I want more than the life I’ve been living.

“What if I can’t do it?” I ask, pulling my legs to my chest and hugging them.

My dad grabs the arm of my chair and pulls it so I’m right in front of him. “It’s something that changes you forever. You can’t take it back. It’s permanent.”

I start to speak but he stops me.

“I’m not saying that you don’t understand all of this. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve tried my whole life to keep you from having to experience it. I won’t think you’re weak. No one will. Let me be your dad, let me take this burden from you.”

My feet drop to the ground, and I stand up, walking over to the pictures. I run my finger over one of grandpa and me. A sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry escapes me. I’m riding on his shoulders at a local biker event. I remember how tall I felt. I could see over everyone’s heads. His hands were wrapped around mine, holding on tight.

Dad wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my head.

“I miss him,” I sniffle, wiping my nose on my shirt sleeve.

“Me too, baby girl. He wasn’t just my father-in-law; he was my best friend.”

We stand there quietly, looking at all the memories from years past. It’s then that I make my decision. It’s time for me to move forward. Grandpa wouldn’t have wanted me to live with this pain for as long as I have.

“I think it’s time to pull the plug,” I say quietly.

My dad squeezes me, letting me know he understands what I’m saying.

“Draven asks me every night if I need a ride home, but I always decline. I do this in front of others. No one will expect me to catch a ride with him next Friday night. I’ll ask him for a lift after everyone leaves.”

My dad straightens and turns me to face him.

“I’ll tell him I have a cramp in my leg and ask him to pull over. When we get off his bike…”

The scary eyebrow pops up.

“Then you will show up,” I explain quietly.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “He will know that it’s you who is holding him accountable,” he reassures me.

“I know. I-I just want him to die the same way grandpa did. Can you do that?” I ask.

Dad nods slowly and then pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight. “What happened at the bar tonight?”

“Nothing, it just doesn’t feel like Grandpa’s bar anymore.”

He nods, scratching his fingers through his greying beard. “Your mom is driving back with William and then flying home. They leave Thursday morning, so this should all work out nicely.”

Dad sits back down and immediately is on his phone. No doubt, preparing the troops for battle.

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