Page 69 of Untouchable

“Nope.” I interlock our fingers, wishing there wasn’t an entire table between us.

“Well then, we can experience it for the first time together. What would you like to do for our last day here? Any sights you want to see or land you want to explore?” I ask, making sure she’ll enjoy every second of this trip.

“Can we just stay here?”

“You want to stay at the cabin?” I question and she shrugs.

“I just… I don’t know, I want to spend time with you.”

“Then we’ll stay in today.” I stand up and round the table, kissing her forehead before grabbing our plates and taking them to the sink.

I follow her onto the patio, letting the summer breeze blow the wind chimes hanging next to the hot tub, as we sit in the rocking chairs.

“So, tell me about your life after you moved from Nashville.” She tucks her feet beneath her and turns to face me. I take a breath, thinking back to that long ago. I was fourteen when Papá died and we moved back to Texas.

“That feels like a lifetime ago,” I tell her honestly. “When Papá died, Mamá knew we wouldn’t make it here by ourselvesfor long. So, we moved back to Texas to live with my tía Sofia and my tío Diego, Papá’s brother. Diego is the one who taught me everything I know about cars. When I was about sixteen, I started working in his garage after school every day, instead of just drawing with motor oil, and that was pretty much all I did. I made up my mind after about a year of working with him that I wouldn’t waste money on a university, that I would either help him run his business or one day start my own. I helped take care of my little cousins—Marisol had a baby brother I was always happy to help with and of course she kept me busier than anything with tea parties, hair braiding, and painting together. It was nice being surrounded by family after losing Papá, but I missed Nashville too. I missed my friends because I never really made any outside of my family when I was gone.”

“So what made you decide to come back? After all that time?” I swallow down the emotion that always wells up when I think about every circumstance that brought me back to Tennessee.

“Mamá got really sick, really fast, but by the time she made it to the doctor, the cancer had progressed so quickly and spread too many places, there was nothing they could do. She was given three months, but only made it two before it took her away from me.” Hot tears stream down my face and I feel Katarina’s hands on my face before I realize she’s sitting on my lap now.

“Ace, I had no idea. My dad never told?—”

I grab her hand, kissing her palm. “I asked him not to say anything to anyone.”

“How come?” The sadness on her face shows just how deeply she cares, making it a little easier to finally open up to her about this.

“I didn’t want to have to talk about it. I didn’t want people’s condolences, sympathetic smiles, and nods every time I turned around. I didn’t want to be seen as the guy who lost everything, I just wanted to be…whoever the hell I wanted to be. I went to areally dark place after losing her. I stayed in my room for weeks, I stopped going to work and then one day, while I was lying in bed questioning what I was meant to do next—I heard my dad’s voice telling me to get up and do something with my life. I closed my eyes and wept for hours, telling him how much I missed him, praying that he and Mamá were happy together but feeling so angry that they both had left me behind.

Then I thought about the club and the way Papá was always happiest when he was riding—or dancing with Mamá in the kitchen. Every bit of joy I experienced in life happened while we were in Nashville, as a family. That same day I packed a bag, grabbed Papá’s old cuts and his Drengr flag from my wall, and drove straight to the clubhouse. I let my family know I would come back and visit them eventually, but I haven’t made it back yet. It’s just too hard. I feel closer to Papá, being part of his club, and getting to ride with Lenny and the other guys from the original five. It’s where I belong, I don’t know who I would be if it weren’t for the patches on my cuts telling me.”

Katarina’s soft hands hold my face, and I lean into her touch.

“I am so sorry you experienced that hurt for so long, Ace. I understand why you didn’t want anyone to know, the need to avoid having to relive something you never wanted to experience the first time. It’s a pain I understand all too well. Thank you for trusting me with that part of your story.” I wrap my arms around her waist, allowing myself, for the first time, to feel comforted during a moment of vulnerability. She strokes my hair and I listen to the steady beat of her heart. Then she smiles—I can tell because her cheek moves where it’s resting on the top of my head.

“You know, cuts or no cuts, I’d know exactly who you are.” I look up at her and she wipes another tear away from my eye.

“Oh yeah, Reaper? Who’s that?”

“You’re the boy who gave me all of my best childhood memories.” I chuckle at the sentiment, settling back into my chair as I pull her closer.

“Tell me about these memories, Katarina. What were your favorites?” She laughs and begins her reminiscence of our past life together. Bringing up, yet again, the hide and seek incident where she got locked in the old fridge at the clubhouse. I don’t tell her that that was the day I experienced true fear for the first time in my life, thinking about her being stuck in there with no way to help her. Luckily, that wasn’t the case and I got to her, but still. Then she goes on about the Halloween she dressed up as her dad and I dressed up as mine, and we had matching homemade Drengr vests. We almost fall out of the chair laughing so hard when she brings up the fake mustache she wore that almost took some of her skin off.

“I still don’t know why my mom let me do that,” she says, sparking my curiosity.

“Katarina–” She turns to face me, her smile still bright. “Will you tell me what happened to her?” Her smile fades in slow motion, morphing more into a frown, but I give her a minute to decide whether she wants to tell me or not.

“My dad never talks about her?”

“Of course he does, but always the happy memories.” She smiles, tears springing to her eyes as she sniffs and wipes one away.

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Then she blows out a breath to steady herself and grabs my hand as she begins to speak.

CHAPTER 38

Katarina

“GRAVE DIGGING”

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