Chapter 24 #2
Now, winding through the roads that led to the top of the ridge, I wished she would say something.
I wanted her to yell at me, or fight with me.
Fuck, I wanted her to ask about the note that I promised to let her read.
She hadn’t. I eventually offered the information and ended up just saying all that was on the note was an address.
She merely nodded and got into the truck.
I hated this.
But it was going to happen no matter how badly I didn’t want it to. From the start, this is where we were going to end. Best to just let it unfold.
“Oh wow.” Callie sat up, peering over the dashboard as the house came into view.
My fucking stomach twisted with eagerness. She unbuckled, so she could see more from the edge of her seat. Her eyes were wide as she stared in awe.
“Whose house is this?”
Once I parked, I saw no other bikes or parked vehicles, so I focused on her.
She jumped out of the truck and raced to the edge of what would one day be my yard. Once I moved in, there’d be grass where she was standing, for now it was all dirt. She held her chest as she stared down into the gorge, viewing the entire town.
“You like it?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.
Tears lined her eyes as she continued to stare at the scenery, then she turned toward me with a tight voice, “Would it matter?”
I regarded her, letting the wind rustle my hair and blow her shirt up as we stared at one another and with a low murmur, I answered, “Yes.”
She searched my face, about to say something when we heard a door open and close from behind us.
“Well, you made it. Guess that means you got back into the good graces of my daughter and dug up my grave, you son of a bitch.”
Callie spun around, paling.
I turned in time to see her dad do the same. Simon looked the same as I last saw him. Dark hair with streaks of silver, tied back at the nape of his neck. Hazel eyes that matched his daughter’s and a jaw made of stone that rarely spread into a smile.
“Simon, want to explain what the fuck we’re doing here?” I asked, moving up the hill with Callie on my heel.
His stare stayed on his daughter.
Before I could repeat my question or push my irritation on him, Callie launched up the steps and ran into his arms, throwing herself at him. He caught her in a tight embrace as she cried, and he kept his eyes on the sky above, his face stern.
I could hear her crying things about missing him, regret, and having to bury him.
He muttered a few things I couldn’t hear, while stroking down the length of her hair.
I hung back to give them a moment, remembering this was their first reunion in seven years.
For whatever reasons they had, they’d both stayed apart that entire time, without so much as a phone call between them.
Perhaps that was why Simon’s eyes were rimmed red now, or why his throat kept bobbing as he tried to control his voice.
Once he let her down and she swiped at her face, I decided to step closer.
“So, you two are back together. Seems I fixed what I had a hand in breaking.” Simon assumed, while we entered the house. Neither of us corrected him that this was just temporary.
I hadn’t set foot in the house in over a month, so it felt strange to be back inside.
The main floor was all open concept with a substantial living room facing the valley, with floor-to-ceiling windows.
The balconies from the second and third floors were visible from here as well, each one with this view.
Callie’s face was turned up, taking it all in.
She wandered until her feet carried her across the hardwood floors, and she was running her fingers over the chrome appliances in the kitchen.
“Seriously, who lives here?” she asked curiously, while opening the wine fridge.
Simon’s face turned in my direction, as if he was waiting for my reply. I didn’t give him a reaction, or any indication whatsoever that it was my house.
He cleared his throat and finally decided to explain what the fuck we were doing here.
“I’m sorry I faked my death. It was shitty, and I know everyone is pissed about it.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Pissed?”
Simon glared, then focused on his daughter. “But if it took my death to get you back here, then maybe it was worth it.”
“Were you even ever sick?” Callie let out a tiny scoff, in response, fresh tears lining her eyes.
Simon swallowed and ducked his head. “Yes, I’m still sick, just haven’t kicked the bucket yet.”
Callie stalked off toward the living room, tucking her arms in tight against her chest and shaking her head. This had to be so much to deal with. His funeral, the grief, dealing with our past, and now this twist. Fuck, I wanted to just hit pause and give her five seconds to catch up.
“Look, I have a reason for everything I did, and part of it, you already know.”
“The deal you made, right?” Callie interrupted him, the heels of her boots clicking over the hardwood as she made her way back to the kitchen, where we were standing.
“Yes. I made a deal eight years ago with Dirk, the deal being once I died, the property of the club would fall to him. Not you.” Simon lifted his chin.
“Then why put me through this? Why make us sit down in that lawyer’s office and go through all this bullshit if it was never mine to begin with?”
Simon shifted on his feet, looking down at the ground.
“Because if you sold it before Dirk could get his hands on it, then there was nothing he could do to get it.”
I shook my head, confused. “Then either way, you would have fucked the club over. We would have had to regroup somewhere else.”
Simon sneered, glaring over at me. “Mighty fine concern of yours, Wesley, when you’ve got more money than God. Why do you care what happens to the club? You’re leaving it, right?”
Callie’s gaze swung in my direction.
“What?”
I clenched my jaw, trying to bite back my response. No one knew I was leaving. I hadn’t told a fucking soul.
“Why would you assume that?”
Another voice suddenly cut into our conversation, echoing from one of the levels above us. “Well, why else did you build such an ostentatious house, Mr. President, if you didn’t plan on leaving?”
Dirk Lenair, leader of the Death Raiders, stepped down from the stairwell, clapping his hands together.
The man was a brute, at more than six feet and well over three hundred pounds.
He had tattoos over nearly every inch of his skin, all down his fingers and hands, all along the side of his face.
He was all muscle, and his eyes were so dark they almost looked black.
“Surprised to see me?”
Callie backed up until she was behind me. I found it telling that she chose me to protect her. Even with her dad right there, it was still me she trusted when shit hit the fan. Funny, because at this point, I felt like she was the only person I could trust too.
I cut a glare back to Simon, only to find his face closed off, revealing nothing.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, glancing at both men.
Simon stepped up, laying his hands out.
“Well, see, here’s the thing. Since I’m not dead, Dirk can’t have his property, but he’s still owed something.”
Dirk laughed, cracking his knuckles. “You stole from me eight years ago, Wes. I’m here to collect.”
I laughed, because fuck them both.
“You stole from me, you fucking prick, and if you think there’s even a chance that you’re going to touch Callie, you’re insane. I’d die before you even breathed in her direction.”
Dirk smirked, peering at something behind me.
“That can be arranged.”
I turned in time to see Silas but failed to see the bat.
“River, ru—”
The hit came with a sickening crunch, paired with a sound that echoed off the walls that practically tore the skin from my bones, and it wasn’t my scream.
It was hers, and that hollowed, painful sound would follow me straight to hell, and like the selfish fucker I was, I’d be grateful for it.
Because in the end, that kind of pain could only mean one thing.
River loved me, and perhaps she never stopped.