Page 12 of Heart Mended

“It wasn’t my time, I know that now, but yeah, I’ll admit I was suicidal.”

That I was, I think as I look back. I did what I could to die—to enrage my brothers so they’d make it easy for me, but it didn’t work. All that happened was they sent me out as a Ronin, a lone biker on the road for six months without the support of a club behind me. I’d left them no choice.

I’d been so angry. My wife was dead, buried while I was unconscious. The pain unbearable when I came round and found out. A physical ache, as if I was being torn in two. A burning inside me, a hole that couldn’t possibly be filled. In such a bad place, my three-year-old daughter only served to remind me of what I’d lost, so I’d left her too.

“I’m sorry about Amy,” I say, contritely. “I shouldn’t have abandoned her.” But neither, back then, could I have been a good dad. A spitting image of her mother, she was a constant reminder of what was missing.

“I was consumed with rage, Crystal. I’d never physically hurt her, you know that, but I couldn’t trust myself not to lash out verbally. Fuck, I did to everyone else. Drummer stepped in again, as you probably know. He and his old lady looked after Amy as though she was their own. Bought her, her first bike that Christmas when I didn’t even think to send her a toy.”

Brushing my hair back from my face, I remember that festive season I’d spent alone, well, not completely by myself. I’d stayed in the Wretched Soulz clubhouse. The MC who are the dominant club over the southwestern states, and a fair amount of the rest of the US. I’d offered myself like a sacrificial lamb, hoping to die by their hands, but it wasn’t to be. Instead, they’d taken pity on a lone rider, given me a room to stay, not pressuring me to join in the celebrations. I’d hidden away, not riding out on my bike, avoiding seeing Christmas lights, unable to cope with people being happy.

“You always loved Christmas, didn’t you?” I reach out my hand, resting it on the grave once again. “That’s why I couldn’t bear it, my love. Couldn’t cope with seeing families together, remembering we’d already been planning to add to ours. Is it wrong I was pleased that you hadn’t been pregnant when you had died? The loss of a child as well as you? Nah, babe.” Pain blasts through me at the thought. We’d been trying, it had been a possibility.

“So I survived Christmas.” I’m trying to be more positive. “It was hard, babe, not denying that, but I got through. Of course, the voice on the end of the phone helped me.”

Marc, the police officer needlessly investigating the death of my wife when my club had already taken care of the culprit, relentlessly calling with negative updates, just to stay in touch. A strange relationship, yeah, the only times I’d seen her were when I lay in the hospital bed. My grief then so intense, I hadn’t taken much notice of her at all.

That she was a no one to me perhaps had been the reason I’d felt able to speak to her, comfortable enough to disclose my feelings. The anonymous voice on the line had understood. Gradually I found out why, she’d suffered a loss as great as my own. Her fortitude in surviving, coming out the other side, was something I could hold on to. The seductive promise that, in time, my hurt would become bearable.

Then, that had seemed impossible, but if I couldn’t kill myself, and others wouldn’t do it for me, I was going to survive. I needed to learn how I could.

Alone, by the grave, memories make me chuckle.

“She got under my skin, Crystal. I’ll never believe anything other than you had a hand in that. Bringing her to me, someone who understood. Someone who knew the danger I was in.”

I need to make a confession. “I couldn’t remember anything of what she looked like, whether she was tall, short, blonde, dark, skinny or curvy. I came to know her only by her voice and her words, but she was becoming special to me even then. She became my friend when I needed one.”

I break off, and chuckle. “Never expected you to send me a fuckin’ cop, babe. Never made things easy, did you? Drummer lost his shit when he found out. A cop and an outlaw biker? How the fuck was that ever going to work out?”

At that moment, as if on cue, I hear a wail from behind me. Turning, I see Marc expertly pulling the twins onto her lap. She’s sat on a blanket, managing to juggle books, toys, cookies and drinks seemingly all at the same time. My breath catches at the beautiful sight. Her quick grin and nod are easy to see from here.

I’ve got it covered. You carry on.

As if she’d spoken, I grasp her message quite clearly and turn back to the grave.

“It worked, though, didn’t it, babe? Everything came through as you planned. It wasn’t my time to join you. By sending Marc to me, you made sure of that.” I shake my head, smiling. “Drummer and the brothers thought she was a fuckin’ man, cause I didn’t give them her full name. Prepared the house for a fucker, stocked up with condoms and beer.”

Marc and I had many laughs about that. Crystal would have rolled over clutching her belly. Glancing up, I hope she knew and had enjoyed my brothers’ confusion when they eventually found out, Marc’s full name was Marcia.

“When the Demon Sons took me, I could have given up. I was getting what I wanted, wasn’t I? Death, and not at my own hands. I was coming to join you, Crystal. We were going to be together at last. It wasn’t my choice, I could do nothing to prevent it. There was no way out.”

My legs, broken and fixed twice now, twinge as though to remind me.

“The pain, Crystal, so bad. I was ready to give up, if only to escape from the physical agony, but you didn’t want me with you, did you? It wasn’t my time. You sent Marc to me for a reason, to keep me alive, and you weren’t going to stop there.”

For a moment, painful memories flood through me. Marc had walked into the Demon Sons’ club, offering herself up. I’d been so scared at that moment, believing she was sacrificing herself. I hadn’t immediately known, she was cleverer than that. She’d had my brothers behind her, somehow having persuaded Drummer to bring them along. I’d thought she’d been alone, had doomed herself to die with me, but no, my Marc laid everything on the line for me; a cop working with bikers, condoning murder, and committing it herself.

Against the odds, I’d been rescued. I was still alive, and grateful for it. Once I’d come face-to-face with death, I hadn’t wanted to die anymore. Crystal would still be waiting when it was my time.

“What were we going to do, Crystal? She was a cop, I was a biker. We never had a chance. Drummer made me break off all contact with her. Well, you know the rest. She was in danger. As she’d kept me alive, the club owed her a debt, and we brought her under our protection. Babe, I couldn’t keep my hands off. You’d been gone so long, I’m a man. I fuckin’ hated myself. Hated her. Hated how she got along so well with Amy. Hated that she was the first woman since you to interest my cock.”

My mind’s lost in the past as I reminisce.

“Miracles happen, don’t they? But you had a hand in that too. You had to have done. That one-night stand? Enough to get her pregnant, even against all the odds.”

I remember Marc’s pain when she told me she couldn’t have children. She’d proved the doctors wrong. Not only was she expecting a baby, we ended up with twins. Now, though I’m still having difficulty getting my head around it, she’s expecting again.

“I never betrayed you, Crystal. Just read the signs it was time to move on. The shove and push that I needed, and which I’m certain, came from you.”

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