“Because I deserve it,” I admitted, turning back to her.
Jack will lose it if anything happens to her. He deserves some kind of good after all that shit he suffered. Losing your mind is one thing but losing your child is a whole different story. That man lived a lot of life, did a lot of penance and finally was granted his divine gift and I was staring at her. I wanted to do my job, to be able to protect the club, and protecting the club meant protecting its property and Reina? She was property of Parrish but reality set in and it settled fast. I didn’t have the strength to save her in the state I was in right now. I didn’t know much about her but I knew enough to know she was a fighter.
A survivor.
Her own hero.
“Listen, Reina, you need to keep your head because as long as he keeps feeding me that shit, I’m useless. Jack’s on to him so it’s only a matter of time before he and the club gets to you.”
“To us,” she amended. “He will not leave you behind, you’re the closest thing he has to a brother. A real brother,” she added.
Brothers.
“Right,” I replied, closing my eyes. “Reina, do me a favor?”
“I’m kind of tied up right now,” she said, forcing a laugh.
I smiled slightly before the wave of nausea washed over me again.
“Oh God,” I moaned. “I need to throw up,” I mumbled, hanging my head waiting for it to pass.
“Blackie, focus, if you let that shit control you, then the poison wins,” Reina pleaded, pausing for a moment before she began again. “Tell me your real name. Blackie is your club name, right?”
“Road name,” I corrected.
“Cut me some slack, I’m new to the old lady status,” she said, her voice cracking. “Tell me your name,” she repeated.
“Dominic,” I whispered.
“Dominic,” she started. “I like Blackie, better,” she conceded.
“You’re good people, Reina,” I said.
Why was it the good always finished last?
“We will get the fuck out of here,” I declared, clearing my throat. The way I figure it, God’s not going to let me die here, under this dickbag Jimmy’s thumb. He wants me breathing, he keeps me suffering so, Reina, has a fair shot of surviving this shit.
“Jimmy blew up my truck,” I informed her.
Keep talking…Keep fighting.
“After I dropped you off I made a stop, must be when he planted the bomb,” I added.
Lacey.
I hope they left her alone. I pray to whatever God willing to hear me that she listened when I told her to stay put.
“You don’t think he planted it while I had the truck?” she questioned.
“Jack’s house is covered with cameras, anyone watches him, and it’s obvious Jimmy’s been watching us, wouldn’t be stupid enough to plant a bomb with the camera rolling,” I explained.
“So where did you go?” she asked.
It almost slipped off my tongue.
Lace.
Her.
My angel.
My light.
“We being real with one another?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You about over the whole Jack being Danny’s brother thing? I mean when you get the fuck out of here you’re not going to hold some sort of grudge over the man’s head are you?”
It was time for me to pass the torch to Reina. It was time for her to battle Jack’s demons with him, it was her job to wear down his maker.
“I’m over it,” Reina stated “I don’t like being lied to, but…” she attempted to shrug her shoulders.
“I love him,” she whispered.
Love.
It keeps us holding on.
Even when we don’t know we’ve got it.
Even when we don’t know we have a little left in us to give.
It’s one of the divine gifts.
One of the few.
“Hold onto that, what you feel for him, it’ll help,” I said.
She stared at me silent for a moment before she spoke.
“What are you holding on to?” she asked hoarsely.
I looked away as Christine whispered all the words I never knew I needed to hear.
Let me go Blackie.
It’s time.
It’s not too late to change.
Change your life.
You did it once before.
You did it for me.
Change your life.
Do it for her.
But mostly, do it for you.
You.
“Which question do you want me to answer? Where I went after I dropped you off or what I’m holding on to?” I asked, finally.
“Something tells me both questions have the same answer,” she said, softly.
“Yeah,” I agreed, diverting my eyes to the floor.
A memory flashed before my eyes, the same memory I struggled to remember this morning when I held Lacey in my arms and she asked me if I remembered the first time she called me Leather.
I don’t know why the memory came now, but it did and when I needed it the most.
“Lace? Oh we’re doing the nickname thing?” She said mockingly, like a true smart ass. She was insisting I take a sip of her milkshake. “Fine. C’mon Leather, live dangerously,” she teased.
“Leather?” I asked.
“Leather and Lace. You and me,” she affirmed as she smiled at me.
That smile.
Man, I was gone.
She had the power to heal me, even if it was only temporary.