Page 23 of Better as It

He shakes his head. “No, Toon. Don’t even down play this shit. My sister shut the world out. You came home and she was safe to let it out again.”

My stomach does a slow, heavy turn. Not the kind you get from the road. The kind that tells you something’s off.

“Give it here,” I say, holding out my hand. He presses the phone into my palm without hesitation. “I’ll see what I can do, Doll. Sit tight.”

“You’re a good man, Toon,” she says softly. “And my son is right. She’s free to be with you. She always has been. You’re her safe place to fall.”

I don’t know what to say. Luckily, she keeps talking instead of realizing I’m being awkwardly silent.

“I know what it is to grow up under the umbrella of this club. The way you know you’re always physically safe. But you don’t know how to be anyone other than the President’s daughter. When you find someone who can see beyond the club to the woman, it matters and it doesn’t change with time or distance. I should know because I have Tripp. You’re her person, Toon. Always have been. Clutch mattered. She loved him, but he didn’t see all the layers of my daughter. Not the ones you have. That’s why you came home and she finally felt safe to fall apart. Thank you, Justin.”

Delilah “Doll” Reklinger Crews is Dia’s mother, Roundman’s daughter, and Tripp’s ol’ lady. She has Hellions blood through her veins and she’s basically a mother to everyone, but Dia is her daughter through and through. I’m sure it’s killing her just like the rest of us that we can’t take her pain away.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I respond. “No promises.”

“I know my daughter. She’ll answer you. I just want to know she’s safe.” And before I can reply, she ends the call.

Pulling out my phone, I find her contact and press call. She doesn’t pick up right away, and that silence between rings feels like the road opening under me. The anxiety and worry build inside me.

“Hello?” Her voice is soft. Raw.

Relief hits me hard. But something’s wrong. I hear it in the way her words scrape together.

“It’s Toon,” I say. “You good?”

She breathes out, shaky. “Yeah… I mean, I think I have the flu or something. Been sleeping all day. Didn’t see the messages until just now. Didn’t mean to worry anyone. Slept through the calls until yours.”

Her last sentence hits me in the heart. I wish it could always be me that wakes her. The time for that is behind us though. I need to make peace with it.

“You sound like hell,” I tell her honestly.

“Thanks,” she says with a weak laugh. “You know how to cheer a girl up.”

“Want me to call off the calvary?”

“Yes,” she croaks out.

“I’ll handle it. Go rest, darlin’.”

I hang up and get to work, shooting a text to Doll letting her know Dia is okay but feeling under the weather. Knowing Dia is horrible at taking care of herself, especially when she’s sick. I handle taking care of her from afar. Pulling up the closest place that’ll deliver something halfway decent, I look over the menu. I send the order, making sure to add hot tea, and toss my phone in the cupholder.

“She okay?” BW asks.

“Flu, maybe. Worn out.”

He nods but glances at me. “You ever think she’s worn out from more than just a bug? She hasn’t crawled out of her shell for even a second. The grief is too much.”

I don’t answer. I know what he means. It’s not my place to push. Not yet. But I remember the way she sounded before Benji died, how her laugh used to roll easy. Now it stutters—if it shows up at all.

We finish the last leg of the trip just after sunset. The Sinister Sons clubhouse sits off the edge of a swampy stretch of road in Crest, Florida, lights low and anything but welcoming to strangers. Not that I give a fuck. We have good business with the Sons this trip is no different. The exchange is quick, clean. Another job done. Now we can turn and burn home unless BW decides we should crash for the night. I haven’t bothered to ask.

The Sons' president, Stone, gives me a nod of respect and a grim sort of smile when I shake his hand. “We’ll see you again soon, Hellion.”

“Not if things stay quiet,” I mutter. He just laughs.

BW is tired and truth be told, I am too. If he had wanted to go back home, I would have driven, but part of me is glad we are going to sleep for a bit. We book a room at the nearby motel that the Sons own. BW crashes first, already out before I step into the shower. I check my phone. Nothing from Dia.

I hesitate, then call.

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