Page 39 of Brick

I inhale deeply through my nose, trying to summon up the strength just to show my face when I catch the very strong floral scent seeping in from under the door.

As I step out of Brick’s bedroom, the weight of the past two days hangs heavily on my shoulders. I’ve spent what feels like a lifetime wrapped in the darkness of grief, but now I’m emerging into the light, albeit a light that feels almost too bright to bear.

The moment I open the door, I’m met with an unexpected sight. A sea of flowers stretches out before me, vibrant and overwhelming. They spill across the floor, a riot of colors that almost makes my heart skip a beat. There are deep reds, softpinks, and bright yellows, each bloom standing proudly as if to say, “We’re here for you.”

I step closer, my breath hitching in my throat. The flowers are a mix of roses, lilies, and daisies, each bouquet carefully arranged. Some are from Brick, his scrawling handwriting on the card familiar and comforting, while others are from the men of the Brutal Chains MC. I can pick out the rugged arrangements, the wildflowers tucked in among the more delicate blooms, each one a testament to their solidarity.

My heart swells with a bittersweet mix of emotions. I know I’ll never have my sister back. That reality crushes me like a weight I can’t shake off. But as I stand here, surrounded by this display of love and support, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I’ve found another family within this group of men.

Tears prick at my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, grounding myself in the moment. I can’t start crying again; I’ve done enough of that already. Instead, I focus on the beauty around me, the vibrant colors that seem to pulse with life.

It's going to be hard, but I have to do this. Even if it's not for me right now, I'll do it for Wendy.

I deserve to be loved and cared for. I deserve to have people around me treat me with respect and compassion. I deserve this.

As I continue to examine the large display of flowers, I can't help but giggle when I realize that some of the bouquets are not placed in vases like normal but in other manly items. Some are placed in mason jars, others in pieces of pipe, and others in old electronic equipment. It looks like whatever they could get their hands on.

They went to all that trouble for me.

I wish I could thank them all right now, but I don't see anyone.

Pulling my shoulders back and doing my best to comb down the rat's nest I have on my head, I make my way to the front door just to see if they are all out there.

When I get there, I can hear a bit of commotion.

I open the door to see Light in a very animated story.

"I couldn't fucking believe it. She thought I was just going to give her a generator for free. I mean, I can sell my stuff for cheap, but I'm not just going to give it away."

"You're telling me you left that lady there with no lights while her son was on a respirator?" Hook tilts his head to the side.

"No, I fixed their lights, but that's not the point. The point is I don't give my goodies away for free. I'm no cheap bitch." Light flips his head like he has a head full of hair, and everyone around bursts into laughter.

As Light turns back to face the crowd, his eyes level on me, and the humor on his face is wiped away, replaced by a somber expression.

"Hey, Luna. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so loud. We'll shut up." Light instantly starts to apologize, and everyone looks in my direction, all of them with the same somber looks on their faces.

"You guys weren't being loud, and I hope all of you are not out here because of me. I'm not contagious or anything," I say, trying to joke a bit with them. I want to laugh, but I just don't have the energy.

"Nah, we just wanted to get some fresh air," the one I think is named Torch says as a way to ease my concern. I know what they're doing, but they really don't have to. I don't want them to feel like they have to walk on eggshells around me.

I scan the crowd but don't see the man I really came out here looking for.

"Where's Brick? Did he go on a ride?" I ask, a bit of anxiety inching into my tone.

"No, he's just in his shop. I can go get him for you," Hook answers and pushes off from the wall to walk in that direction.

"No, can I go? I want to stretch my legs." I take a few steps from the door, stopping Hook in the process. "That's okay, right?" I know they all have their rules, and I don't want to break one if I'm not supposed to go to Brick's workshop without his say-so.

It's amazing; a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about barging in there without a care if it was against the rules or not, but I'm starting to get a hang on this lifestyle that these boys are living.

"Yeah, it's fine. If you walk down this path right here, you'll wind up right at his door." Hook points me in the direction I've been many times before.

With a soft smile from me, I put a hand on his arm and give him a tight squeeze. It's a silent thanks and all I can give right now. The group remains quiet while I walk in the direction of Brick's workshop.

I push open the door to Brick’s workshop, the familiar scent of sawdust and stone filling my senses. The space is cluttered but organized, tools hanging neatly along the walls, and I can hearthe soft sounds of chiseling echoing through the room. As I step inside, my breath catches in my throat.

In the center of the workshop, Brick stands hunched over a massive piece of marble, his muscles tense and focused. The stone is a pristine white, almost glowing under the light, and as I step closer, I see him sculpting a bird in flight. Its wings are outstretched, capturing a moment of freedom, and the detail is breathtaking. I can see the delicate curves and feathers, all connected to a large slab that I realize is meant to be a headstone.

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