Rex snorted. "Well, sure, of course you would. I do too. But if not, if things turn bad, then you know they’re there for him."
That made me feel better. I didn’t want Fraction to be alone.
"I only had him two weeks. But he used to sleep with me, and I know for sure that he made me have fewer nightmares. He kept me safe at night."
"I wish I could promise that he’d make it, Cyan, but I can’t."
I was both sad and happy that he wasn’t willing to lie to me. "Will Rain be okay?" I whispered, needing Rex’s assurance. He knew everything. He was the Prez.
His voice was gruff, not reassuring, just honest. "He’s going to be a soldier, Cyan. A lean, mean fighting machine."
"I thought he wanted to do what Rachel does."
"That day changed him."
I knew the day he was talking about.
The day my life had changed too.
I bit my lip. "Rex?"
"Yeah, honey."
"You really mean I can call you whenever I want to talk to you?"
"I do. I’m going to speak with your mom and dad, make sure they’re okay with it, because I know you don’t have a phone.
"But whether it’s me you want to talk to or Stone or Lodestar or whoever, you can talk to us. We might be in West Orange, but we’re still family. You got me?"
Warmth filled me. "I got you, Uncle Rex."
Forty-Three
Keira
PRESENT
I hated funerals.
I mean, nobody liked them, but this year, there’d been too many. Way too many.
Fraction lumbered out of his bed, clearly thinking I was playing fetch when I tossed my purse onto the dresser, but then he squatted on the rug in the universal signal for ‘I’m gonna pee.’
I peered at him.
He peered at me.
"Don’t do it," I warned. "Fraction, don’t you dare—"
He dared.
He goddamn dared.
"Storm!" I screamed, which I swore made him piss even more. "Come and take care of your dog!" When he ambled into the room, pulling a face at what Fraction was frickin’ doing, I grumbled, "I was not put on this Earth to wipe up your dog’s mess, Storm. You fix it."
He headed over to the bedroom door and hollered, "North!"
I had to smile. "You’re supposed to do it."
"What’s the point in having Prospects if they don’t get to handle the nastier aspects of club life?"
"How will they learn?" I agreed drolly, rolling my eyes, but to be honest, I didn’t give a damn so long as I didn’t have to clean up more piss. "I think they were signing up for grittier jobs."
"Ain’t nothing grittier than cleaning up dog shit." Storm kicked the rug with his toe, rolling it up into a sausage. When North appeared at the door, frowning, he clicked his fingers and said, "Rug needs hosing."
North groaned. "Again? What the hell is it with this dog?"
"Fraction can’t help it," Cyan said primly, clearly having overheard the conversation and come to weigh in on matters. Where Fraction was concerned, she was beyond defensive. "He has to stay inside until his stitches are all cleared up."
"I don’t see why he can’t pee in the yard," North muttered. "Hell, I’d pick him up just so I didn’t have to clean this damn rug again."
Content now I didn’t have to deal with this, I turned away from them all and headed into the bathroom, tugging at the pins in my hair and letting it flow.
Today had been hellish.
Watching Kelly throw himself on his mom’s casket, before sobbing at the side of it broke my heart. He was currently sleeping it off in the bedroom beside ours, but I felt each tear he shed as if it were my own.
He didn’t know this, but no one in his extended family wanted to take him in, so I’d told Storm that we had to keep him here with us. When we eventually moved out, he’d be coming too. There was no way I could have that boy on my conscience when he was left languishing in foster care after he had a perfectly good, if odd, family here.
I placed my hands on the edges of the sink as I stared into the vanity mirror, wondering why I didn’t look as exhausted as I felt. The day had been long, the week had been longer, and the month was shaping out to look just as tedious as the rest.
Eight days.
That was the one thing that was keeping me going through all these transitions.
August Eighth.
I blew out a breath just as a tap sounded at the door. "Come in," I said softly, watching as Storm’s face peered through the crack.
"Oh, you’re decent," he rumbled, sounding disappointed.
I snorted. "I mean, if you want, I can take a seat on the toilet."
His eyes twinkled. "That’s not my kink."
"Thank God for that," I grumbled, even as I turned around, butt on the sink, and folded my arms across my chest.
He eyed me, my stance, tilted his head to the side. "You okay?"
"What do you need?" I asked, not wanting to get into it.
I wasn’t okay, but I would be.
That was as much as I could hope for after burying two innocent people who’d died because some psychos didn’t understand that murder was a worst-case scenario.
Storm didn’t tell me much about club business, but he’d told me that Kendra had latched onto the ex-Sinners when she’d overheard them talking in the bar & grill where they were eating.
A plan had been concocted to reel him in. Kendra—knowing Storm’s biggest weaknesses, i.e. Cyan, drugs, and me—had been of great use to the small band of exiles.
Their end game? Safes. Apparently, there were hidden safes in the clubhouse that they wanted to access. Safes they felt sure Storm knew about.
He didn’t. But now that he was in the loop, he’d started tearing the clubhouse apart for them.
What Storm wasn’t saying was that their plan hadn’t been to twist his arm into letting them back on board.
I had a feeling that Kendra, though she loved Storm and wanted him for her own, would have found herself dispensable if she tried to fight for the man who was her living, breathing obsession. I figured if that had happened, she’d have saved her own skin first. Damning Storm into the hell in which she’d invited him.
They’d have tortured him, gotten him hooked on the drugs again, and then killed him. God only knew what they’d have done to Cyan and me…
Of course, none of that took into account the fact that this chapter believed Storm was their Prez now, believed in him as a leader.
The exiles’ plan was one thing, but I had to wonder how far they’d have gotten before the club came tumbling down on them like a ton of bricks.
Regardless, innocents had died, I’d killed someone, Storm had murdered and tortured the exiles, my daughter had fired a weapon, our dog was a walking miracle, Kelly was without his parents, and all because a bunch of headcases had sought weaknesses in our family, our chapter, where there were none to be found.
We were solid.
More than we’d ever been before.
"Wanted to check if you were coming down to the wake."