35. Lazarus
Lazarus
I cannot follow Phoenix and Zephyr as they carry Honey back to the apartment.
Sickness sloshes in my stomach as I relive every moment of the sweet omega’s torment.
It was at my will she suffered.
To what end?
“Lazarus,” Salem calls.
I’m in no mood, but I have a responsibility to the club as the sergeant at arms. So I stop and try to look unaffected.
“There’s a problem with the — You don’t look so good, you okay?” Salem trails his eyes over my body as if inspecting me for damages.
“Yes.” I nod as if to affirm my statement despite the wretched lie it is. “There is a problem?”
“I’ll go grab Mayhem. Don’t worry about it.” Salem steps away from me slowly.
Drawing a steadying breath, I drop my shoulders. “Mayhem is dealing with his omega. I can handle it.”
“If you’re sure.” Salem’s eyes dart off to the right, and I glance, seeing my shadow primed to strike.
I tame it back down, beneath my feet, where it belongs.
“Get out of here,” Revenant growls from where he must have followed me through the door to the garage. “Go. Figure out your damn problem, get yourself back levelheaded. But don’t do it here.”
I hang my head. It has been a long time since I have made an error that attracts Revenant’s attention. Being so publicly reprimanded heats my cheeks and sours my stomach.
Without further prompting, I continue my path, away from Salem to the lot in which we have parked our motorcycles. I need to feel something other than this guilt. To feel the air whipping past me, the open road. Anything other than this.
By the time my bike pulls onto the abandoned property miles outside the city, I finally feel like I can breathe. The woodsy air fills my lungs when I cut the engine on my bike.
Solitude. At last, I quietly reflect and process the way I’ve so violently realized the error of my ways and look to resolve the near-catastrophic fallout from the situation I incited.
This is a perfect place to pray to God for direction, for answers, and for strength.
This parcel, an ‘abandoned’ roadside stop, was once a place for families until the highway moved two miles south. Now the club president owns it and keeps it as a secret spot for clandestine meetings for his inner circle.
The spring air is cool against my skin, and the ride out here did nothing to warm me. Now, the sun is closer to the horizon, and the chill will only sink in more.
I grab the tome I keep in my saddlebag and dismount. After gathering fire starter from the little outbuilding and some flammable materials from the nature around me, I start a small fire at the center of the stone circle.
Once the flames lick the air, I warm myself by it for a minute before looking over my tome. It’s worn, a gift from Revenant’s mother from when I swapped my prospect vest for my full member one.
Over the years, I’ve torn pages from it, left notes in the margins, and found ways to make what was once a strict daily regimen more fitting outside the community I was raised in.
It’s taken a lot of reconciliation to come to terms with God again — the idea of His existence with the science and logic among the polytheists. Now, it’s time to level my head against this new development. Her. Them.
This yearning I have for a new pack is unlike when the apostles assigned me to Ruth Mary, Isaac, and Clement.
With Ruth Mary, I had grown with her. We had that love that comes with time and a friendship built with each passing day.
Isaac and Clement were fellow disciples brought together that I accepted as a pack, as family, and slowly found myself wanting for more.
I wanted to bond with them as one does an omega. My relationship with them felt stronger than the fraternal brotherhood, which was that of disciples together.
They were instrumental in orchestrating a change in teachings. One that became prohibitive of that very idea I yearned for, and one that looked to launch a new order in which it would simply be one alpha and one omega together.
My belief, that packs are stronger together, was shunned. I vowed never to let my feelings toward another alpha, especially of the romantic nature, lead to difficulties with a pack.
That is not at all the case with Phoenix and Zephyr.
They’ve insisted for a long time now that we are more than just cohabitating.
When I met them, it felt as if they were meant to test me, my patience, and my dedication to peace.
I never expected it would be in this sense.
I never expected they would drag me backward to wanting what I closed myself off to.
Back to wanting all the things that saw me cast out.
Honey, the sweet little omega, reminds me of home in all the worst ways. She has lived what I spoke out against. She is the result of the faith turning against the tome. And that has only drawn me closer to her. She understands me in ways no one can or ever will.
“Dear Lord God, hear my prayer as I look for a signal, a path through the trials of my life. Find me a way thro —”
Motorcycle engines rumble through the distance. The hum of two sport bikes as they navigate the lesser-used roads.
It seems God has spoken before my prayer can be said. I’ll have to find a way to open myself to the possibility that this is my family.