Shadow and Skulls (Rebel Skull MC Series Book 6)

27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

I’m kicking rocks off the path, scowling at my mom and dad as they walk in front of us hand in hand. My grandpa and I are following behind them at a slower pace, since he’s pushing my grandmother in the wheelchair we brought for her.

“Talk to me, kiddo,” he says after I roll my eyes when my mom hops on my dad’s back.

“They act like teenagers,” I grumble. My jealousy seeps out between my words. I don’t like the way it sounds, but it’s where I find myself.

He laughs heartily. My grandmother tips her head back at the sound, squinting her eyes against the sun.

“That’s love for you,” he says.

“Yeah, I’m so happy they get to be with the person they love.”

He stops, pointing to a bench off the path. My dad turns around to check on us. Grandpa waves to him. “We’re just going to take a little rest.”

Dad smiles back at Mom before pretending to drop her. She squeals, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Grandpa pulls Grandma up beside the bench before sitting down beside me. She pats her hair, her gaze roaming over the sunflower field in front of us.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t mean to be a Debbie-downer.”

He pats my leg. “Aw, that’s okay, honey. We all have bad days.”

“And sunny ones,” my grandmother says mindlessly, not looking at us.

My grandfather smiles over at her before setting his eyes back on me. “Your dad told me about the man you were seeing without his permission.”

“Permission?” I snort.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I’m not seeing him anymore. In fact, I’m not sure he even exists. He hasn’t tried to contact me.”

Grandpa leans back, running his finger over his mouth. “Could it be he’s just respecting your dad’s wishes?”

I shrug. “It feels like he ghosted me. I mean, one minute he was my whole world and then poof, my dad waves his wand over him and he vanishes.”

“Are you hoping your dad will change his mind?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. I haven’t stopped loving Tank. With each day I’m away from him, I feel like a part of me is withering away.”

He rests his arm on the back of the bench, winking at my grandmother. She blushes prettily, turning away from him. He chuckles.

“You two flirting isn’t making this any easier,” I joke.

He rubs his hand over my back. “Have you talked to your dad about this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“He said no, and you know there’s no arguing with him once he’s made up his mind.”

“And you think he’s magically going to wake up one day and say hey, you know that guy I chased away? You can start seeing him again.”

I pull my foot up to the bench, hugging my knee. “I guess not, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Fucking tell him how you feel. Don’t hold back because you think it will make him uncomfortable or angry. You have a right to your feelings. You should never hide them for the sake of anyone … not even my son.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Maybe hold up a mirror. He’s crazy in love with your mother. Show him what you see. Let him know that’s what you’re looking for, and you think you’ve found it. Now, I’m not saying this guy is the one, but if you think for a moment he might be, then you gotta speak up.”

“He’s older than me, you know.”

This makes him laugh. “Your dad doesn’t fucking care, and I think you already know that. He’s just not sure you’re ready for a relationship. He’s worried about this thing.” He places his hand over my heart. “He’s concerned there may still be fractures there. You’ve got to find a way to show him it’s mended enough to sustain a potential heartache.”

The twins jog up to us. “Hey, Gramps, want to come down and help us pick out the pumpkins?”

My grandfather stands and ruffles my hair. “Come on, honey. We can’t leave it up to the boys, or we’ll be hauling the biggest pumpkins they can find back home.”

“That’s okay. You guys go on. I think I’m going to watch the sun set.”

Cole grabs Grandma’s wheelchair and spins her around. It makes her laugh which in turn makes my grandpa smile.

“Okay, sweetheart. Just don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

After they leave, my eyes fall closed, enjoying the last bit of the sun’s warmth for the day. I imagine his eyes on me, and I shiver. We’re hours from home; there’s no way Tank is here. I’m dreaming.

My dad coughs lightly before lowering himself beside me. “So, I hear you’re letting the boys pick out your pumpkin this year. You sure you can count on them to get just the right one?”

I smile, keeping my eyes closed. “They know what I like.”

“You’re pretty trusting.”

Slowly, I open my eyes, marveling at the colors painting the sky above the sunflower fields. “Thanks to you.”

He clasps his hands, leaning forward.

“It’s true. I didn’t trust anyone after my mother betrayed me. Not until I met you.”

We people watch as the day comes to a close. “Tell me the story about the sunflowers,” I say as the sun dips into the field in front of us.

“Are you sure you want to hear it again?”

“The festival wouldn’t be complete without it.”

He laughs but proceeds to tell me the story about the sunflowers and how they always face the sun. Unless it is cloudy, then they face each other.

When he finishes, we sit quietly, enjoying the view as the sun disappears.

“I was so sad at the beginning of this year,” I tell him. “Things were changing, and I realized that even though I was healing, I was still holding back. Unable to show the world all of me. I felt a bit lonely in that.” I pause, struggling to put my thoughts into words.

I love that my dad doesn’t try to fill in the blanks when I’m talking. He’s not afraid of awkward silence. He allows me the time I need.

“When I met Tank, it was like the sun came out from behind the clouds. I had gotten so used to them; I didn’t even know they were there blocking out the light.”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, but I can see he’s uncomfortable with my turn of conversation.

“I never would have raised my face to see where the warmth was coming from if it hadn’t been for you. You showed me that there are men in this world that are safe and trustworthy.”

He sits back when my mom joins us. I smile when he tries to hide his tears from her as she lowers herself onto his lap.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

I answer for him. “Yeah. Dad was just telling me the sunflower story.”

This turns her frown upside down, a smile lighting her face. “I fell in love with your father even more after he told me that story for the first time,” she says quietly, running her fingers through his beard.

“Anyway, I’m glad I’ve got you both here. I’ve been thinking about going to visit my mom in Iowa.”

Both of their faces snap my way.

I laugh. “I figured you’d be happy. You’ve been trying to get me to go visit her for the past year.”

My mom reaches over and cups my cheek. “Oh, baby. I’ll make the arrangements for the three of us to go next weekend.”

“Next weekend?” I swallow hard.

“Is that too soon? I just don’t want you to fret over it longer than necessary.”

My dad raises an eyebrow, waiting for my response.

“No. Next weekend is good. I … I just want you to know that seeing her won’t change my feelings about you. I want you to know you will always be my mom. I’m just visiting the woman who gave birth to me.”

“Kelsie, it’s sweet you’re worried about my feelings but don’t be. This trip will bring you peace. I know it with my whole heart.” She places her hands over her chest. “I didn’t want to tell you with everything else that’s been going on, but your mom’s health has been slipping. I was going to wait until we were home to talk to you about it. But I think maybe your soul knows time is running out. I’m going to make some calls right now.”

She jumps off my dad’s lap and walks down the path, bringing her phone to her ear.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

I nod, blinking back tears. “I feel like everything is falling apart, yet …”

This time he doesn’t let me flounder in awkward silence. “Yet it’s taking you right where you were meant to be?”

“It’s scary.”

He hugs me. “We’ll be by your side. You’re not alone.”

I wipe my eyes on the bottoms of my sleeves, needing to change the conversation away from my mother. “We should go see if the boys need help.”

When we get to the front gate, the boys are just coming back with Mom. “We got everything loaded up,” they tell our dad.

He gives them a stern look. We all know they picked the biggest pumpkins in the patch.

“You know, if you’ve got twenty-pound pumpkins in there, I’m not helping you clean them out.”

They both laugh. “Mom will help us,” they joke.

She pats Carson on the chest. “Of course your momma will help you. Did you guys lose Grandma and Grandpa?” Her gaze roams over the area before checking her watch.

Just as we’re about to go looking for them, Grandpa jogs up the path. “I lost her,” he pants, coming to a stop beside us.

“Slow down, old man,” my dad says, grabbing him by the shoulders. “What happened?”

He takes a deep breath, resting his hands on his knees. “She was sitting in her chair, and I walked a few feet into the sunflowers to pick one for her. It was just a few seconds, and when I stepped out, she was gone.”

My dad starts barking orders. My mom rushes to tell the staff our grandmother is missing.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. We’ll find her.” I run my hand over his back.

My mom and the boys start searching through the fields with the staff.

“Just stay here in case she wanders back,” Dad tells Grandpa. “Kelsie and I will go check along the creek.”

My heart breaks at the worried look on his face. “Oh my god. What if she falls in?”

“Not going to happen,” Dad assures him.

It breaks even more when I hear my dad yell out for his mother in his booming voice. “Angela!” he yells, cupping his hands together.

We search along the water, praying we don’t find her face down. My mom texts, letting us know they still haven’t found her.

“We’re going to have to call the authorities.” My dad stops in his tracks, shoving his hands in his hair. “Goddammit, where did she go?” He’s giving up hope.

I walk forward. “Angela!” I yell, continuing where he left off.

That’s when I hear something. I pause, the leaves crunching beneath my feet. “Did you hear that?” I ask my dad.

“No.” But he stops too.

I spin in a circle. “There! Did you hear it?”

I don’t wait for him to answer. I begin running through the brush. His boots thud heavily behind me. When we come to a clearing, we find my grandmother sitting on a log, her face raised to the moon.

“Grandma.” I drop to the ground in front of her. My father crouches down beside me. “Are you hurt?” I ask, not sure if she’ll respond. She doesn’t speak much anymore.

She looks at me confused. “Where did he go?” she asks.

“Grandpa’s back at the entrance,” I tell her.

My dad is patting her down, checking for injuries.

He tries to pry a stick from her fingers, but she pulls her hand back and smacks him over the head with it. “Don’t you dare try stealing my star.”

“Jesus Christ, old woman. That hurt.” He rubs his big hand over his head.

She ignores him, smiling at the tip of the stick.

I jump to my feet, my gaze roaming over the darkness surrounding us. When I don’t find who I’m looking for, I turn back to them.

“Can I see your star?” I ask, lowering myself back to the ground in front of her.

She tips it toward me, careful to keep it out of my dad’s reach.

“It’s so pretty,” I whisper. “Did someone give this to you?”

A smile brightens her face. “It was Ray,” she says.

My chest tightens a little. She’s confused.

“He was just here a moment ago.” Her eyes wander along the moonlit creek.

“What does he look like?” my dad asks her, because he knows damn well it wasn’t my grandfather. He’s back at the entrance.

She fans her face like a schoolgirl. “Oh, he’s a big man. Handsome.” Her face begins to fall. “Wait. No, it couldn’t have been Ray. Ray has brown eyes. This man had green eyes. They glowed in the moonlight.” She glances around, looking for him.

“He said his name was … oh, I can’t remember now.” Her voice rises as she gets upset with herself for not recalling it.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, ignoring the look my father gives me. “Ray is waiting for you.” I urge my dad to his feet.

“Can he carry you?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t get scared when Dad picks her up. She’s more confused than I’ve seen her.

She nods, but she tucks the stick inside her jacket so he can’t take it away from her.

All the way back she mumbles about stars and trees. I spend the entire walk glancing behind me every few feet. The string between Tank and me is pulled taut, and my heart beats happily because of it. But when we get back to the gate, I feel it go slack. My grandfather plucks my grandmother right out of my dad’s arms as if he’s not a man in his seventies.

“Baby, where did you run off to?” He cuddles her to his chest.

For a second she pushes against him, but when their eyes meet, she relaxes and lays her head against his shoulder.

The ride back to my grandparent’s home is quiet. My dad meets my gaze from time to time in the mirror. I know he’s worried over my reaction to finding my grandmother with that stick in her hand.

My mom tries her best to lighten the mood when we get back. She helps the boys scoop out their ginormous pumpkins, joking with them. I finish carving mine as quickly as I can. I like tiny pumpkins, so it doesn’t take long. The boys didn’t disappoint in picking out the perfect one for me. It’s so round.

“Do you want to help me light it?” I ask my grandmother, itching to get her alone so I can ask her about the big man who gave her the star.

When we pass my dad and grandfather in the living room, they pause their conversation. I hate the look of sadness on their faces.

“We’ll be outside.”

Grandpa places his hands on his knees to push out of his chair, but I stop him, motioning for him to remain seated.

“I won’t leave her alone,” I promise.

I help her into a chair on the front porch before lighting my little orange pumpkin. When I lower myself to the ground in front of her, she begins to run her fingers through my hair.

“The man who gave you the star tonight, was his name Tank?” I decide to ask after several minutes.

She mumbles something about her mom, and I decide to leave it at that. I don’t want to confuse her any more than she already is. She’s calm, and I don’t want to rock the boat by upsetting her.

“Pretty hair,” she whispers, continuing to run her fingers through my locks. I close my eyes, taking a moment of gratitude for her touch. Her love.

I pull out my phone, running my finger over the screen. I’ve been trying to restrain myself from texting him so much, but I have to acknowledge what he’s done for me and my family.

Me: Thank you.

I slip my phone back in my pocket, not expecting a response, and that’s okay. I have faith he’ll read it.

My family begins to filter outside. The boys have finally finished their masterpieces. Every year they make it a competition. We laugh as they each showcase their creations, pointing out the small details.

When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I freeze.

“Look right here,” Carson tells us. “Do you know how talented you have to be with a knife to get a line like that?”

Cole snorts. “Whatever, dude. A five-year-old could make that cut.”

I yawn into my hand. “Oh gosh, I think I’m going to bed.”

Carson and Cole both groan out loud. “I thought we were going to watch scary movies tonight.”

“Your sister doesn’t like scary movies, and you boys know it,” my mother speaks for me. “And now that she’s living alone, it’s definitely not a good idea.”

I stick my tongue out at them before hurrying inside. “Goodnight. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

As soon as I’m cuddled up on the single bed in the guest room that I share with the twins, I open my messages.

Tank: Is she okay?

He answered me. I knew he was reading my messages.

Me: Yes. Thanks to you.

Tank: It was nothing.

Me: It was everything.

Tank: How are you?

I rub my thumb over the screen. A thousand things run through my mind, and I want to share them all with him. My new house, the trip I’ll be making to Iowa next week, my fears …

Me: I’m fine.

Tank: Kelsie

Me: Okay, I’m not just fine. I’m scared, happy, sad, lonely, excited. In no particular order.

Tank: That’s a lot.

Me: That’s me.

Tank: You never would have guessed it by looking at you. Maybe you should show them what you’re feeling. No one can read your mind.

Me: You can.

Tank: No, little shadow. Not even I can read your mind. I may have been able to see you there in the dark, but only you know what you’re feeling.

I let the tears fall freely out the corner of my eyes. Isn’t it funny how the dark is the only place you can cry without restraint? Why is that? Maybe we’re afraid the light will somehow diminish our tears in some way. Or is it simply vanity?

Me: I hate that you are so honest with me.

Tank: Always.

We lie there together, neither of us wanting the conversation to end. My grandpa was right. I need to show my dad I’m healing, but I also need to show Tank, too. So, I end the conversation first. I know he’s with me, even when he’s not.

Faith.

Me: Goodnight, Tank.

Tank: Goodnight, Little Shadow.

A few minutes later, I hear the click of the door. I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep. My dad moves to the side of the bed, the blueberry scent of my mom’s perfume following him. She carefully plucks my phone from my hand.

They’re quiet for a moment as they read my messages.

“He’s stalking her,” my father whispers harshly.

I pinch my lips between my teeth. His comment does not need a response from me. Faith.

“Dan, he saved your mother.”

“Because he was stalking our daughter,” he grits out quietly.

“He didn’t say anything inappropriate.” Again, she tries to reason with him.

They’re silent for a moment. “I want her to stay at the warehouse,” he says sternly before he ushers her toward the door.

They step out, their whispers becoming muffled as one of them pulls the door closed.

My chest tightens. What does that mean? Stay at the warehouse?

No matter. I have no choice but to stay the course.