Once Ryder is in front of me, he nudges his head. “Can we talk?”
“No,” I state categorically and he lets out an exasperated breath.
“Phoebe, I need to talk to you.”
“Oh? Now you want to talk, Ryder? I’m sorry, but no. Your time is up.”
I push past them and begin walking toward the bar.
“Dammit Phoebe!” he yells from behind me. I turn around to face him, straightening my shoulders.
“One…you do not get to come here and decide that you suddenly want to talk, you should have done that before bailing on me. And two Ryder, we are done. Our time together is finished. I need to move on and forget you ever happened.”
“I’m sorry, Phoebe. I’m so fucking sorry. You have no idea.”
“I have an idea, Ryder. I don’t want there to be bitterness. I don’t have the energy for it and that’s really not who I am. But we are done. I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go.” I spin around and begin jogging toward the bar again. I’m pushing through the doors when the first tear drops.
“Damn it!” I rub it away angrily. I promised that Ryder Oakley would not make me cry again. I lied. It’s a good thing no one is here to see it. I don’t think I could hold the girls back from going level ten psycho on his ass this time.
Walking through the bathrooms, I take a seat on one of the closed toilets, shutting the stall door closed.
Why did I come in here and not my damn office?
I hear the main toilet door open and I rub my tears away again.
“Go away, Ryker.”
“How’d you know it was me?” I can hear the smartness in his tone.
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because I know you’re the only one to push when I say stop.”
He must be leaning against the door of my stall because his voice vibrates through the wood.
“Phoebe, hear him out? Please?”
“I don’t want to hear it, Ryker. He’s done it again.”
“I know, baby, I know. But, he was doing it to protect you. Just please, come and talk to him.”
“Why isn’t he in here? Why is it you?”
“I’m here, Phoebe. Open the door.”
Fuck.
“Open the door,” he repeats, his tone back to the demanding tone I am accustomed to.
“You left,” I answer.
“I’m here now. Fuck. Open the door.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because. I need space between us.”
Silence.
Ryker walks out, shutting the door behind him before there is more silence.
“Baby?”
“Don’t baby me, Ryder.”
“I don’t want to get you caught in the middle of my shit. I thought by pushing you away, I was doing you a favor. But that was until I discovered something…” he tracks off.
“What was that?” I ask in a mocking tone.
“That I love you, and I want to be with you forever.”
That got my attention.
“You love me? But yet you left me…again.”
I swing my door open and he pushes off the counter, walking toward me. “I love you, Phoebe. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I clutch my arms around myself. “You were supposed to talk to me, Ryder. Not cut me out, that was all I asked.”
“Yeah, I know. I told you, though…I told you I was going to fuck this up,” he sighs before continuing, “Have I?”
I tilt my head. “Have you what?”
“Fucked this up?”
I think over what he’s said, dropping my arms. “I don’t know. I can’t jump into things with you again so fast this time, there’s no way. We’re going to have to start again.”
He puts his hand out with a smile. “I’m Ryder, can I get your number?”
I smile, shaking my head. “Phoebe, and no, you cannot.”
My phone begins ringing from my pocket and I pick it up, seeing it’s Meadow.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Phoebe? Are you home?”
“Yeah, why? We’re just at the circuit.” Something in her tone doesn’t sit right with me.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Abby, something’s happened. I’m sorry, Phoebe. I’m so sorry.”
The air leaves my body, my blood turning to ice.
“Spit it out, Meadow.”
“Oh God,” she whispers.
“Meadow…” I warn.
“She’s dead, Phoebe. God, I’m so sorry,” her voice cracks.
My hand flies up to my mouth, my entire world crashing underneath me. My phone slips from my hand, as everything plays in slow motion. I can hear people calling my name, but nothing registers.
“She’s dead. Abby is dead.”
Meadow’s voice echoes through my brain and I clutch my hand around my throat. I see the door fly open, but again, nothing registers to me. My mind is on Abby. “I need to leave,” I choke out, my throat closing up, cutting off my air supply. I begin to race through the scenarios in my head. It can’t be, she can’t be dead. It’s Abby! She…she’s Abby. She and I were like sisters. I can’t believe this. Ade? Oh my God, everyone will be devastated.
Ryder pulls me into him.
“Baby, what’s happened?”
“It’s Abby, a girl I grew up with. She’s dead. Something’s happened and I need to leave now, Ryder.”
He swallows, nodding his head. “Do you want to go back to your place first? Or should we drive straight to the clubhouse?”
“Straight, str…” my voice clogs up as the information sinks into me.
“Shhh.” Ryder pulls me into his embrace where I let everything go.
After peeling myself away from Ryder, we make our way back to my place. Nettie should be there. I pull my phone out and send Blake a text.
Me: I know about Abby, Blake. Come home.
Once I arrive home, I throw my keys on the console table inside the front door.
“Okay, I need to make some calls. Make yourself at home, Ryder, you know where everything is. And you can call the boys to come up here.” I’m hoping he remembers where everything is, it hasn’t changed much in two years.
“Don’t you want quiet time?”
“No. Definitely not. Quiet time gives my brain time to think. I don’t want to think, I want noise and distractions.”
I leave him there and walk to the kitchen while taking out my mobile phone. I call Blake first.
“Blake?” my voice cracks.
“Speedy, I’m sorry. I was going to call you, but then Vicky went into labor and I had to rush her to the hospital.”
My world stops for the second time today.
“Vicky’s in labor?” My voice picks up.
“Yeah, she is.”
“But, but she’s not due for another three months, Blake!”
“I’m well aware of that, Phoebe.”
My skin prickles as panic sets in again. I can’t fucking do this. I can’t have people close to me just decide to up and die.
“Blake…”
“I know. She’ll be fine. They will be fine. Who’s there with you? Tell me Ryder is there with you?”
I will ignore the fact that he knows Ryder is here, for now.
“He’s here, and the rest of the boys are coming tonight.”
He lets out a relaxing breath. “Put Ryder on the phone.”
“Wait, where’s everyone and what happened?”
“You all need to go to the clubhouse. She got caught in the middle of a shootout between Kazimir’s men. We’re looking into it, and have The Devil’s Own coming down too. You all need to go the clubhouse.” I swallow down the bile I feel rising in my throat.
She was shot.
Abby was shot.
Passing the phone to Ryder absently, he takes it, rubbing my hand briefly before putting it up to his ear.
“Blake, what can I do?”
I walk into my living
room and turn my gas fireplace on. It’s not cold, but the heat brings me comfort. Wrapping my legs up in my arms, I lay my head back on the sofa. A few minutes later Ryder comes in, handing me my phone before taking a seat next to me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my head.
“Tell me something about her.”
“About Abby?” I say to him.
He nods. “Yeah, tell me about her.”
“Well,” I say, picking at the fluff on my cardigan. “She had it rough. When she was a little girl, she found both her parents bludgeoned to death. It took the police one whole week to find her parents. She was four, Ryder. She stayed there with her parents, a four-year-old little girl. When they finally found her, they said that she was covered in blood and smelt of death. She had dirt all over her face and body, with dried blood smeared through her hair, under her nails and stained onto her skin. She was thrown into the system because she had no other family. After many failed attempts at foster homes, she ended up with a family in Westbeach, the Jacksons. Terrible family. They were rich to boot, but only took her in to make them look good. Behind closed doors, they would beat her. All of them. They would lock her in the basement of their huge mansion. Anyway, one night she ran away and my Uncle Pincher and Aunt Mary found her walking the street with a backpack on, short, unkempt hair and clothes that were too small. They pulled over, asked her where she was headed and whether she needed a ride. Abby got into the car, they got to talking and found out what was happening and then they took her in. No one knows, well, hardly anyone knew she was raised within our MC family. It was off the record, people assumed she was a runaway and they wiped her out.” He clutches me tightly, not saying a word, which I appreciate.
“She was the first person who ever took an interest to me, Ryder. Kids my age in this town…they feared me too much to come near me. Their parents would scare them away from me, too. I was an outcast until Abby came along. I loved her, cared for her. Now she’s gone.” I drop my head into his shoulders, shutting my eyes tightly wishing that this all was a nightmare.
“Sleep baby,” he whispers into my hair.
Shooting up off the bed, I turn on the lamp beside my bed. “Ryder!” I scream out.
His body jumps from the bed and he rubs his eyes. “Baby, I’m right here. Are you okay?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not okay…I’m not okay…”
Before I close my eyes again and let my sleep take over, I think back to when I was five year’s old…
“Can I show you something, Phoebe?”
“Yeah! What is it?”
“Look!” Abby said pointing to a butterfly sitting on a leaf.
“That’s a real pretty butterfly!”
“Isn’t it? Do you know how butterflies are born?” she asked me and I shook my head.
“Out of their mommy? Blake said I came out of mommy’s butthole. Is that true? Because buttholes are smelly, but he said that’s why I’m a little shithead.”
Abby stifled a laugh covering her lips with her hands and shaking her head. “No sweetie, Blake’s being an ass.”
“What’s an ass?”
“It’s what Blake is.”
“Do you want to know how they’re born?”
I nodded my head in excitement to the only girl who I’d been around my age. Well…not really. She was a few years older than me, but I didn’t have many friends. No one likes my family in this town, and the kids at school said that their mommy and daddy don’t want them to be friends with me. I don’t know why, but I think it’s because my daddy rides a motorcycle. I don’t really care for motorcycles. I love cars, fast, loud cars.”
“I do, I do!” I clapped my hands and smiled.
“Okay, kid. Each butterfly goes through four stages in its life. These four stages are called eggs, larva, pupa, and adult. From each egg hatches a tiny larva called a caterpillar.”
“A caterpillar? Ew, those are grooosss!”
She laughed while continuing, “The caterpillar is always hungry and spends most its life eating and growing. It grows so fast that it sheds its skin many times. Once the caterpillar has developed sufficiently, it’s ready to turn into a pupa. The caterpillar spins a ball of silk on a leaf and hooks itself to the ball. He hangs head down and shreds the old caterpillar skin. The pupa’s soft skin hardens to form a case around the caterpillar. Protected by the case, the pupa changes into a butterfly. Two weeks later, the case opens and a beautiful butterfly emerges.”
My eyes glassed over and I tilted my head. “That was an ugly caterpillar? Yuck. But now it’s so beautiful.”
Abby laughed. “The caterpillar goes through all those stages of life, to live for twelve months.”
“Just for twelve months? That’s so sad. Then do they die?”
She nodded her head. “Yes, they die.”
“Some people, have to live their life many times before they get it right. But you know what you should always do, Phoebe? You should always live as if you were to die tomorrow. Don’t let your past interfere with how you live your life. Don’t let anyone hold you back, because nothing is guaranteed in this world, and we never know when our twelve months left of life begins ticking.”
Present
“Phoebe?”
“Phoebe!”
I can hear Ryder’s voice in my ear.
Peeling my eyes open, I rub them with my hands. “What?”
“You’ve slept for hours, baby. It’s midday.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s going to be okay—”
“No, no, it’s not. I should have spent more time with her. I always assumed she’d be here. I don’t know a world where she wasn’t in it, Ryder. I took her damn presence for granted.” I roll over in my bed, shut my eyes and cry myself to sleep.
The next morning, I don’t want to open my eyes, but I know we need to go to the clubhouse today. I haven’t worked up the nerve to go in yet, and it’s only been two days since she passed. Apparently, she’s having a closed casket. I’m not sure how I feel about that exactly, I think there’re pros and cons for both open or closed. I glance beside the bed to see it empty, but I hear voices downstairs. Getting up out of bed, I walk into the bathroom, take a quick shower, and pull on some skinny jeans with a tank top before heading downstairs to fetch a coffee.
When I walk in, I’m greeted by Ryder, Ryker, Melissa, Blake, Leo, Tommy and Nettie.
“Hey,” I say, making my way to the coffee cups, feeling all of their careful eyes on me.
Ryder walks up to me, taking me in his arms. “Morning baby. Feel a little better?”
“No.”
He turns back to Blake as they proceed with their conversation.
“Where’s shooter?” I say to Blake. He stops his conversation and looks to me.
“He’s at home. Vicky’s still in the hospital, they’re trying to halt her contractions, giving her all sorts of drugs—”
“I want to see her.”
“Phoebe—”
“I want to see her, Blake. I need to make sure she’s okay.”
“Who, Phoebe? You need to make sure who is okay?”
Now they think I’ve gone crazy.
I look to him. “Vicky! Blake! I fucking know that Abby isn’t okay. She’s fucking dead!” I run out my sliding glass doors, through my backyard and into my garage. Flicking the lights on, I smile for the first time since finding out I had lost a sister.
Pushing against the garage doors, I slide my body down slowly until my ass hits the floor. “I’m sorry, Abby. I’m sorry I didn’t spend enough time with you,” I whisper. The guilt and hurt swallowing me into a big black hole. I stand from the cold concrete floor, pushing my way to my favorite car that I own, my 1972 Nissan Hakosuka GTR Skyline. Running my hand over her immaculate body, I smile. I hardly take her out because she’s my favorite. I’m not worried about my driving, it’s others I don’t trust. There it is again, the trust issue. I love my cars more than I like some people, so that’s a given.
/> The last person I lost this close to me was my dad. So this has brought old feelings to the surface for me. I’m sitting on my back porch clutching a coffee when Ryker and Ryder both walk out with breakfast.
“Pancakes?” I say to Ryker, eyebrows raised with a smile.
He shrugs a cute as hell shrug. “I know they’re your favorite. I even put the sprinkles in the mixture, just how you like them.”
“You’re the best. Both of you.”
I look up to them over my hooded, heavy eyes. “Please never die.”
A single tear drops, before a whole heap of them begin to descend. Death does this to me, it makes me dysfunctional.
“I couldn’t live if anything else happens to anyone I love.”
I know I just dropped the L-bomb on Ryder, but I don’t care.
His face turns soft. “Fuck!” Shoving the plate into Ryker he takes a seat next to me, picking me up and cradling me in his arms. “Fuck baby, come on. We’re not going anywhere.”
“You left me, though. You did it again.” I know that’s not the same thing, but we haven’t actually spoken about what happened between us because of all the crazy that’s gone on.
“I know. I fucked up. Those were the worst hours of my life. I thought by pushing you away, it would mean that you were safe, except I forgot about the part where I can’t live without you. I love you, Phoebe. I told you I’d fuck this up sometimes, but I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
I wipe another tear off my cheek, looking deep into his bright blue eyes.
“I love you too, Ryder.”
It has now been one whole week since Abby’s funeral. I feel a little lighter now that it has passed, I finally feel like I can heal. Seeing Ade was tough, he and I both loved Abby around the same. At the moment, we’re all at the clubhouse having a cook out. Beast and his crew should be here any minute now until they sort out what’s going on with the Russians—club shit. They were supposed to come down when Abby passed, but Zane stalled them so we could all say goodbye before more blood is spilled. I feel vulnerable and weak, which is so unlike me. Me and weak do not go in the same sentence usually. Meadow, Melissa, and Nettie take a seat beside me, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see Carter sitting by Kalie, consoling her the best way he can as Ade locks himself in the bar with whiskey no doubt. I should probably check on him later, he will not be dealing well with this.