Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
WES
What the fuck was Simon thinking?
The question ran on repeat through my mind as we drove one of the trucks from the club to the edge of town.
It had no traceable plates, so it was perfect for what we were planning.
Inside, wearing skull gaiter masks, along with black ball caps, were Killian, Giles, Rune, Callie, and myself.
Callie was on my lap in the back next to Killian because I still didn’t want any of the fuckers from the club around her, and the other two were up front.
The guys didn’t even blink when I told them we had something to do, and no one questioned why Callie was with us.
In general, women didn’t go on runs, or get to know about our business.
I had no idea why it was such a big rule, but after being in the club all these years, I knew Red was still clued into the secrets, and so were the other old ladies—they just never talked about it.
Callie was the most essential piece of this fucked-up puzzle and it was time we started using that to our advantage, instead of leaving her in the dark.
Besides, she’d just run and do her own thing if we did.
My heart was still recovering from when Silas sent me that photo of her sitting there in a café bordering rival territory.
The girl was going to be the death of me, which was why I decided it was time to start including her in this shit.
She deserved to know, and I deserved a break from stressing out over her safety.
Once we pulled up to the cemetery, we all quietly exited the truck. Callie found my hand in the dark, while Giles, Rune and Killian grabbed shovels.
“You realize how traumatizing this is going to be for her if Simon is, in fact, inside that coffin?” Giles whispered from the back of our group.
Killian laughed, while Rune grunted his agreement.
Yeah, I realized it would be a shock to her, which was why she wouldn’t be looking inside when we pried it open.
We walked silently, while Giles veered off, heading toward the small office where Gunther, the night groundskeeper, worked.
We’d either pay him off, or knock him out. Either way, he’d be handled.
We found Simon’s grave, and with the way Callie slowed, I knew it was already hitting her. He was like a dad to Killian, and even me in different ways, but no one had the same memories with him that Callie did. Dead or alive, this would hit on a thousand different levels for her.
I pulled her aside, away from everyone else, and tugged the fabric around her nose down, doing the same with mine.
“Hey, find a spot a few graves over. You don’t need to watch us do this.”
Her hazel gaze glittered under the moonlight as she shook her head.
“He tried to tell me something in those letters…if there’s even a chance he’s not dead, I want to be there when you find out.”
Shit, I was worried she’d say that. I wanted to protect her from the hurt this was going to cause, while also letting her be included. No one ever explained that love was going to feel like you were losing your goddamn mind and heart all at the same time.
I pulled her in and kissed her. I was a coward, and I owed her the truth about how I felt, but my pride wouldn’t allow it.
Deep down, I knew she’d leave me again. She didn’t want this life, and there was nothing I could do to make her stay.
Even if she was pregnant, even if there was the slightest chance we’d created a life. She’d still go.
With that somber feeling thrumming through me, I turned around and headed back to the grave.
The guys had already started, so I jumped in to help.
Callie crouched down next to the headstone, handing us waters as we needed them, and after a few hours, when Giles tossed his shovel, she picked it up, jumping into the hole to dig too.
She didn’t miss a beat, tying her hair back, throwing her shoulders into it, as she shoved the tip of the tool into the earth.
Swiping at the sweat on my forehead, I let her get in a few scoops before I grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up.
Killian gripped her wrists and pulled her out.
“I want to help!” she whisper-yelled.
I let out a sigh and continued digging, and she grumbled a few other things to Killian before he jumped in to take her place.
Finally, as the first light of dawn touched the sky, the tip of my shovel hit something hard. Everyone froze, except for Callie. She scrambled to the edge of the grave, peering down.
“Get her back, I don’t want her to see if he’s in here.”
Giles moved to guide her away from the opening, but Callie pushed at him.
“It’s my father, my fucking blood. I want to see, and if you push me again, I’m jumping down there with you.”
Fuck.
“Fine,” I called up, bending over the coffin to dust off the top.
My nerves were raw as I shook out my hands.
This was the craziest fucking thing I’d ever done, but I had to be sure that I was seeing what I thought I was in those notes he left Callie.
Simon had always been a calculated man, and while I didn’t appreciate the fact that he was likely the one who sent Callie that initial letter, telling her to move on, I understood why he continued to use her to communicate through and why he kept pushing for me to be the president after he died.
When he got sick, he told the entire club who would precede him. There was no vote, no general election held with a majority decision. Simon chose me, and no one argued, not even Killian, but now I understood why he’d done it.
It was all because of Callie, the one person on this planet he could trust that wouldn’t be touched by club politics, or swayed by a rival decision, or money. And the only person who would ever have a way to her, on this intimate of a level, was me.
“Want me to do it, Prez?” Killian called down, and I knew why he offered it and I appreciated his respect in adding my title so it didn’t seem like he was questioning whether I could do it. He just didn’t want me to be the one to have to do it.
I pulled the crowbar out that I’d brought with me into the grave and shoved the end into the side of the casket, breaking the seal.
Once it was cracked, I wrapped my hand around the edge, and pulled.
Dirt slid through the opening, and I was going to feel really shitty about this if the remains of our beloved president were in fact inside, but as I pulled it back, I heard Callie gasp first.
“Son of a fucking bitch!” Giles yelled next, and then Rune let out some sort of curse.
I finally saw inside, and my mouth went slack.
Empty, save for a single note and a few sandbags, which likely was the reason his coffin seemed heavy enough as we carried him from the hearse to the grave site.
I tucked the note into my pocket, too angry to read it. Slamming the lid of the coffin down, I crawled out of the grave, and instantly glanced away from Killian’s curious gaze.
“Let’s get this shit cleaned up before the sun comes out. It’s only been about a week, so no one’s going to notice once we bury it all again.”
Killian moved first, and then Rune. Giles was still shaking his head, while Callie sat with her hands shoved into her hair, her back against the backside of her father’s tombstone.
I was shaking, but I wasn’t going to show anyone. The fucker actually made me believe he’d died. I mourned him. I cried for him.
Killian locked eyes with me, then glanced down at Callie. We did this a lot, where he didn’t want to undermine me, or make it seem like I needed his instruction, so instead we learned how to communicate silently. He was telling me to get her the fuck out of here.
I bent down, grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her up.
“Not a fucking word about this to anyone. No one can know about this until we figure out what it means.” I snapped at the guys and tossed the keys to Killian.
I’d call a prospect to come and get us, but a part of me knew she needed to walk.
Just like I knew what she needed yesterday.
I was tired, thinking back to how much time had passed since I brought Callie home with me, and how insane I’d been going over being close to her.
Holding her hand now felt so right, but it also felt strange.
Like we’d stepped out of the past into a future that was all wrong for us.
She was supposed to be my wife, at home sleeping.
Safe and sound, and not wondering if her father was alive or not.
We were a mile down the road before she finally pulled away from me and tore off down a random trail.
I went after her but gave her space. She was speed walking, kicking up dust as she walked, but she was already filthy from the grave, so it made no difference against her black clothes. Fuck, I must look like I just exhumed a grave as well, which meant we needed to stay off the main road.
Catching up to her, I pulled on the back of her sweatshirt to get her to slow down. “Talk to me.”
She spun, eyes rimmed with tears, her beautiful face streaked with dirt. She still had her hat on, and her mask around her neck.
“And say what?” She threw her hands out. “That my dad lied to me, that he manipulated us? Did Sasha know? Was this why she didn’t go to his funeral, why she couldn’t bring herself to take anything of his down, because she knew?”
I shook my head, trying to pull her closer.
“I don’t assume she did…Sasha is a Death Raider.
She’s been straddling life and death by dating Simon Stone for five years.
There’s no way she would have been allowed to show her face at that funeral.
You don’t think we were being watched that day?
That Dirk didn’t drive down to see for himself that his greatest rival had died? ”
He wasn’t the only one.