In times of troubles, my dad would always say, you turned to your brothers. They will be there to help you heal.
Mattie would humor me about leaving, too. But, when the time came, I knew he wouldn’t. He lived for this life. Lived for pleasing my father and following in his footsteps. My father wrote me off a long time ago, but lines of succession were important to him. As long as he attempted a legit side to the club business I would oblige, but when I turned twenty-one, I was out. It was a promise I made to my mother and I wanted to keep it.
He had to respect it. I gave him no choice.
* * *
Three days later,I pulled into the clubhouse yard around eight am. I parked my bike in my normal spot. The anger had dulled to a deep ache and it threatened to boil over if I didn’t keep it in check.
A few members milled around outside, all dressed in suits. It had been four days since they killed my brother. My father would want him in the ground as soon as possible.
I found Dad in the lounge nursing a glass of brown liquid and reading the paper. His face drawn and tired. He blinked when he saw me. He folded his paper and sat it next to him. He stood up and walked toward me. He wore a light grey suit and a dark grey tie. He stared into my eyes, asking a question, I didn’t want him to ask.
I looked away. The place looked exactly the same.
“You’re back.” He said, but I heard the unspoken question ringing in my head.
You’re back for good?
He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. My father was a few inches shorter than me. He pulled me toward him and hugged me. My father hadn’t hugged me in years. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. Maybe he needed it. I hugged him back.
“I’m so sorry, Mase.” He whispered in my ear.
I pushed away from him and turned my back to him.
He placed his hand on my shoulder.
“We’ll get the son of a bitch who took Mattie from us,” he said. The rage in his voice matched the rage in my heart.
I turned my head toward him and looked into his eyes.
“Fuck yeah, we will.” I nodded.
He nodded back.
I heard a tiny gasp from the corner of the room and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I turned and spotted her.
Gracie.
She wore a black dress. It had no shape and fell to her knees. She looked sexy as hell.
I closed my eyes and opened them.
She held a white handkerchief in her hand. She dabbed at her eyes.
“There’s my girl.” My dad said. He motioned for Grace.
She hesitated.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I’m happy you’re here.” He said as he put an arm around Grace. “Grace has some great news.”
“Hi Mase.” She said. Her voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” She looked up at my father and back at me.
I turned away from her. I couldn’t look at her. It hurt too much.