I’d loved Rene like she was family, but this went deeper.
The sorrow in Link’s eyes, my husband’s sobbing, the muted atmosphere here, that Bear was drunk when he never got drunk… all for Rene.
She deserved nothing less, don’t get me wrong, but it still surprised me.
She’d been integral to them, a cog in a wheel that wouldn’t spin without her. I was just a moving part.
It was my fault, of course. I’d stayed on the outside looking in…
Was it too late to make a change?
Did I want that?
"They just left her there to die, Keira. I saw her. It was…" Link shook his head.
"I wish you hadn’t been there to see that, Link," I told him softly.
"I want to kill the fucker who did that to her."
"Does the sheriff have any clue who was driving?"
"’Course not. Dumbfucks couldn’t organize a party in a nightclub." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I wanted to catch you before you left."
"Okay, why?"
"Storm might…"
"He’ll be grieving," I finished for him. "I know."
Link’s mouth twisted. "Not sure you do, but yeah. Just… I dunno, Keira. Maybe remember that Rene was like a mom to him?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
He sighed. "Don’t see why not."
"Is his birth mom dead?"
His stillness had me frowning before he turned to me, muttering, "You mean he didn’t tell you?"
"No. We don’t really talk about our parents."
"She’s as good as dead to him," he confirmed.
"That bad, huh?" I asked sadly.
"Worse. Storm lived half the time with Rene and Bear, then Ellen would get released and she’d draw them back into her web. I never used to get why she did that. Rene would have looked after them all the time." He cleared his throat. "Storm’s mom and Rene are, were, cousins."
"Really? I didn’t know that."
"They didn’t like each other, but Ellen knew Rene would have killed her if she’d dumped the kids in foster care." He picked up the end of the rosary he always wore and started twisting it through his fingers as he muttered, "Never been gladder than when he cut her out of his life."
"What did she do?"
"What didn’t she do? You think Scarlet was a cunt by nature?" He scoffed. "More like nurture. Ellen was Scarlet’s model. She just made everything worse by 2.0."
My nose crinkled at the bridge. "I hate Scarlet."
"Everyone fucking hates that skank. Even Storm." He shot me a look. "She ain’t been around for a long time. Did Storm say what happened that last time he went to bail her out?"
I knew when he meant. "No." I grimaced. "I-I…"
Link patted my hand. "I remember. You ran away again."
I winced. "God, you make me sound like a puppy in a movie."
"You did take off a lot that first year, Keira," he chided.
"Because I was scared! Because I was going to be a mom, because Storm was going to be a dad and he kept taking off for days on end and wouldn’t tell me where he was going or—" I blew out a breath. "I still hate it when he goes on runs, but at least I understand it now. He’s not that great at explaining himself, Link," I grumbled.
"You left, then Scarlet got arrested, and the day after, you got rushed into the hospital, right?" he asked. "I think that was the order of shit. Maybe there was some time in between."
"Does it matter?"
He hummed. "What did she say to you? It was Scarlet, right? That made you leave that time? You’d started to settle in—"
"How do you know that?"
"I remember him being happy," Link said wryly. "Ain’t you noticed? When you’re down, he’s down."
"It’s not that simple."
"Isn’t it? My boy’s whipped for you, honey," Link teased softly. "Rene said she ain’t never seen a boy so in love as he is with you."
My cheeks turned pink. "Well, I love him too," was my prim response.
"You love what you know. You should remember, Keira, still waters run deep." Before I could ask him what the hell that meant—although, I guessed I’d just dealt with some of that back in my husband’s bedroom—he queried, "Why did you leave him so much that first year?"
"I didn’t just leave because I’m flighty. Something happened or went wrong and I just, well, I got scared. That time, Scarlet told me I should get an abortion."
"So? You didn’t have to leave Storm. Wasn’t like he was asking you to get one."
"Do we have to talk about this?"
"I’m curious."
"Why are you?"
"Because Bear was asking where Scarlet was. He wants her here for the funeral. I just wondered why Storm ran her off."
"Scarlet… she’s…"
"A bitch?"
"Yes, but she’s cruel. She scared me. She looked at me like she could push me down the stairs and make me lose the baby." I shuddered. "It felt so real—"
"Christ," Link muttered. "I wonder if it’s because she couldn’t have kids?"
This was the first I’d heard of that. "Why couldn’t she?"
"She was pregnant and when she lost it, she had a really bad—" His words waned. "Well, I don’t know what happened, but I know they took all those parts out."
"Good God, that’s terrible!"
He grunted. "Maybe. If any woman wasn’t made to be a mother, it’s her and that skank Ellen. You really thought she was going to hurt you?"
I nodded. "It’s dumb now."
"But you were nineteen then. Newly pregnant. Newly graduated. Newly married. Newly adult."
"Yeah."
"I’m glad he cut her out of his life."
"Me too." I pulled a face. "Will Bear really want her around for the funeral?"
"Yeah. Rene spent years raising her. Wasn’t her fault she was like the kid from a horror movie, was it?"
Despite myself, my lips curved. "That pretty much sums her up."
"The antichrist." He mock-shuddered, then slung his arm around my shoulders. "Just remember, Keira, even if Storm pulls away because of his grief, he loves you."
My brow puckered. "You’re scaring me, Link. Why should he pull away?"
He squeezed me. "Just in case he does."
Concerned and confused, I stared up at him. He meant it. No ‘just in case’ about it.
And though he warned me, when Storm spent most of the next three weeks at the clubhouse, I was still underprepared for it.
I barely saw him, barely heard from him, then, one day, he just came back.
Looking like hell, his face white, his skin sallow. He’d dropped at least twenty pounds and was walking around as if he’d had the crap beaten out of him even though he had no bruises.
But things reverted to normal, and because I was a chicken shit, I didn’t press.