Page 40 of Trusting Skulls

When I’m satisfied, I fold it up and tuck it in my pocket for safe keeping. Jesse and Dirk are already inside for the night. They’re playing a board game. They asked if we wanted to join them. The way Raffe shook his head made me also decline. When they got out of earshot, he leaned over and told me I had made a wisedecision. “They’re ruthless. Even when they’re only playing,” he said.

The occasional arguing that disrupts the quiet of night tells me Raffe was right. My gaze roams over him. He’s lost in the flames from the fire we built.

I sit forward, catching the light as it reflects in the pools of his eyes. He’s sad.

“Raffe, are you okay?”

His head falls, and his body begins to shake as he sobs. I jump to my feet to go get Jesse, but he reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist.

“Don’t go,” he manages to choke out.

Slowly, I sit back down beside him. He’s so overwhelmed with emotion, I’m not sure what to say or do.

“I have to tell someone. Fuck. I’m losing my mind,” he whispers, letting go of me to wipe his eyes with the palm of his hands.

I’ve never comforted anyone, but god do I want to ease this man’s pain. Something is torturing Raffe’s soul.

“You can tell me,” I offer.

He grabs his head, his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m not going to burden you with my problems, Lex.”

“Why? I just dropped a whole load of my own on you. My hands are free,” I tease lightly, placing my hand on his back.

He flinches beneath my touch, but he doesn’t pull away. His sadness draws me closer, and I feel a strange calling to tell him something about myself.

“My parents were young when they had me. They were both still in high school. Miraculously they graduated, and they even went to college while taking care of me. They took turns watching me. They were like two ships sailing the same harbor, carrying the same cargo, but each with a different destination.”

His quiet sobs begin to lighten as he listens to my story.

“Even though I only had one of them at a time, I at least had someone. It was when they finished college that everything changed. They hired a nanny and left me to go out and pursue their dreams.”

I glance up at the moon. I’ve never talked about this with anyone. Ever. It’s embarrassing.

“It didn’t really hit me how alone I was until the end of myfifth grade year. By then I only had a part-time nanny. Really, she was just there to fill the fridge and run me to doctor appointments and things like that. But anyway, we had a little end of the year graduation ceremony at school. We had gowns and caps and everything. Our teacher even bought flowers for us to hand out to our mothers.”

Raffe lets out a gruff sob, and I drop my attention back to him.

“As I was walking home that night, twirling my mother’s rose in my hands, I’d never felt so alone. It was suffocating. The pain was so much I felt like I might die. My vision became cloudy from crying, and I couldn’t see straight. Everything came crashing down around me, and I tripped outside the bar. You know the one that used to be where the bike shop is?”

Raffe lifts his head and nods.

“A big man picked me up and carried me inside. I was terrified at first, because my parents had warned me about talking to strangers, especially strangers covered in tattoos and wearing a Skull patch.”

He turns his tearful gaze toward me.

“The man wiped my eyes and made me a root beer float. He told me it was his granddaughter’s favorite treat. Then he knelt in front of me and cleaned and bandaged my skinned-up knees. From that day on, I began to fantasize about your club rescuing me. Crazy, right?” I laugh a little. “I used to picture you all pulling up at the school to pick me up. I guess that’s why I was sojealous of Charlotte and Kelsie. I daydreamed about it so much that when you all started helping me, I didn’t believe it was real.”

“Do you know who that man was?” Raffe asks.

I shake my head. “No. He never told me his name, but I’m assuming he owned the bar because he had a key to get in.”

“His name was Bill. He’s Jesse’s dad.”

My eyes widen, and my hand falls from his back. “No.”

“He was the best listener. I wish he were here now.”

I laugh lightly. “Well, he did most of the talking, but I’ll never forget how safe I felt with him.”

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