I didn’t tell him not to pack his clothes even though we’d be getting him new ones almost immediately. Even little boys had pride.
I slipped out of his room and headed back into the kitchen. Colt was sitting on the stained brown couch, not even a foot away from Silas’s father, his body turned toward the man who hadn’t even bothered to greet his son.
I couldn’t hear what Colt was saying and I didn’t want to know. All I cared about was getting Silas out of this place.
I rooted around underneath the sink, letting out a startled squeak when my hand brushed something furry.
“Fuck this,” I muttered.
I slammed the cabinet shut and high-tailed it back to Silas’s room. He looked at me with questioning eyes.
“Er—all out of garbage bags.”
He smiled in genuine mirth. “Did you meet Murray?”
“Murray?”
“My rat.”
“Like a pet rat?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. I sort of adopted him though.”
“You won’t be devastated if he stays here, right?”
“No. I never really wanted a rat for a pet.”
I saw the pile of belongings on his bed and used his sheet as a makeshift satchel.
“Mia?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m okay leaving Murray behind, but can I bring Captain?”
“Who’s Captain?” I asked nervously.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Colt said as he slowly moved to the bed and pulled back the covers. He slid between the sheets and groaned in relief.
“You saw Captain. There was no way I could deny Silas.”
Captain, as it turned out, was a medium-sized, black and white speckled mutt with one ear that flopped down and another that stood straight up. And Captain only had one eye. After a bath and a meal, Captain was now conked out with Silas and the other Blue Angels kids in the clubhouse theater room.
By the time Colt and I had made it back to the clubhouse, it was nearly dark. The wake had been going for hours. The mood had been somber—until we’d arrived with a one-eyed dog.
“He needs new clothes,” I said.
“Hmm,” Colt said, his eyes closing, exhausted from an emotional day. “We’ll get it sorted.”
“Did Cheese ever say anything to you about Silas’s living condition?”
“No. I had no idea it was that bad. But Cheese had his pride and I know how much he loved his brother, so I know he was trying to get Silas out of there.”
“I wish he’d said something. It would’ve been so much better if we could’ve helped sooner.”
“Hmm,” he murmured in agreement.
“Silas is going to need his own room at the house.”
“Obviously.”
“I think we should let him pick out his own furniture and paint. Maybe that will help ease his transition.”
“Mia?”
“Yeah?”
“Can’t all that wait?”
I let out a breath. “Yeah, it can.”
“He’s okay for now, right? He’s got his dog. He’s got his friends. He’s sitting downstairs with Cam and Brock. He knows these people. He’s known them for years. I’m willing to bet he’s more comfortable here than he ever was at home. Let it be for right now.”
“All right.” I lifted the covers, wanting to tuck him in. I’d helped him change his bandage and I’d blanched when I saw the angry red wound in his side. He’d griped and cursed, but I’d somehow convinced him to take a pain pill, so at least he could sleep. Sleep would help him heal.
“What did you say to his father?”
Colt’s eyes were half-mast and I knew the potent drug was dragging him into sleep, but he still found the resolve to answer me. “I told him I was taking his son and giving him a better place to live. I told him he had two choices. I’d give him a thousand bucks a month for him to sign the paperwork for guardianship and for the schools, and then he’d keep his mouth shut, or he’d disappear and I’d get Silas’s guardianship in court when he was gone. He chose not to argue.”
“We did the right thing, getting Silas out of there.”
“Yeah, we did.” He paused, his breathing evening out.
I thought he’d fallen asleep and was on my way to the door when his words stopped me.
“I’ll call the club lawyer in the morning. We’ll make sure we are Silas’s legal guardians as fast as we can, okay?”
My eyes softened and the tears that I felt threatening were in danger of spilling over.
“Okay, honey. Sleep if you can. If you need anything…”
He didn’t reply and I knew he’d passed out.
I closed the door and headed down the hallway to the backyard. The wake for Cheese was still going strong. I planned on having a drink in his honor. And a drink for Shelly. And then I’d find a secluded place and cry. Let out all the bottled up emotions that were still sitting somewhere inside of me.
The girls swarmed me, enveloping me in their arms. They didn’t offer empty platitudes, just their silent comfort and the knowledge that they were there if I needed anything.
“Did you eat today?” Darcy asked, pulling back.
I shook my head. “I haven’t had much of an appetite.”
Rachel handed me a bottle of Irish whiskey. “This’ll do you right.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip, enjoying the warmth of it as it settled in my belly.
“Amazing thing what you’re doing for that boy,” Joni said.
“Anyone would’ve done it.”
Allison raised her eyebrows. “No, not anyone.”
“He was Cheese’s family,” I said with a raw throat. “Cheese was our family. It was the only thing to do.” I raised my bottle in the air and yelled, “To Cheese!”
Echoes of my toast resounded across the yard as people drank to their fallen brother.
“To Shelly,” Boxer called, his eyes meeting mine.
“To Shelly,” everyone chanted.
We continued to drink and then the guys lit a massive bonfire. Flynn and his boys were not at the clubhouse, but out on the streets of Waco, sniffing out all they could about the Iron Horsemen. Knight and the Coeur d’Alene brothers were seeing to our safety, guarding the clubhouse entrances so we could mourn and drink, though no one was getting sloppy.
The club was on total lockdown. No one would harm us tonight.
I wandered over to Boxer who was sitting on a table by himself, his face expressionless. He didn’t bother to crack a joke or try to lighten the atmosphere. Tonight, we’d let the mood be dark. Tomorrow, when the sun rose, we would face it all again, but for now, we kept to the shadows to mourn the spirits that would haunt us.
“Shit day,” Boxer stated.
“The shittiest,” I agreed.
I drank from the bottle of whiskey, no longer feeling the burn of it.
“How’s Colt?” he asked.
“Down for the night.”
He chuckled, but it sounded rusty and forced. “What did you have to promise him to keep him in bed?”
“That’s between me and Colt.”
My comment had the effect I wanted; it caused Boxer to throw his head back and shout with laughter. He draped an arm around my shoulder and dragged me close to him.