I’m almost hesitant to ask, but I’ve always wanted to. Since he’s opening up, I do. “What happened?”
“The guy was shot in the head as soon as she walked in.”
Out of curiosity, I ask, “Did she do it?”
“No. I’m not sure who did. He had a mask on.”
“Jason?”
“No,” he replies. We’ve tried to figure Jason Koster out, but to no avail. The man is a mystery. From my understanding, he took a bullet to his side for my Firefly, so I back off when Mom and Sara Jane speak highly of him.
“I only saw his eyes. Brown, nothing distinguishable, but I did see a scar just below his eyebrow, running parallel. Small. About a half inch or so.” He takes a few steps and admires the bike. “Maybe one day more of this story will make sense. For now, I’m going to appreciate being alive. Congratulations on the marriage. She’s a good girl.” His quick subject change doesn’t confuse me. He needs these tiny moments to process what he went through.
“My girl.” The words echo like I said them for the first time yesterday.
He pats me on the back as he passes. “So what happens next?”
“Classes start soon. Got your books?”
“Picked them up yesterday. This school thing? I think it’s a wise choice. It’s always good to have a fallback plan.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
A smile pops into place. “Sweet ride.” It’s a rare sight, but I’ll take his goofy grin over none at all any time. He shakes my hand and brings me into a hug again. “See you out back, brother.”
“Brother.” I prefer brother over King when it comes to him. We’ve settled on Alex lately. It’s good to get back to my roots.
I swing my leg over the bike and push in the key. I don’t start it. I know it will purr like a tiger and I can’t take it for a ride anyway, not when I’m supposed to be at my own reception. A party I’m enjoying actually.
When I look up, Jason is leaning against the garage. I still don’t have a good read on him, but I feel like making amends these days, so I dismount and say, “I owe you a thank you.”
He comes over and shakes my hand. “You don’t.”
“My mom hasn’t said much, but I know you played a bigger part in her survival than either of you will let on.”
“She’s good at respecting privacy.” He looks at the bike and kicks the front tire. “Nice bike.”
“Does Sara Jane know you’re here?”
“We already said our goodbye.”
“Ah. How’d she take it? She’s not one to handle goodbyes well.” A shrug and a glance in another direction tells me what I need to know. “There’s something about her, something that makes you want to stay.”
“No point in hanging around any longer.”
“She’ll miss you.”
“You’ll comfort her, and she’ll forget about me.”
“What exactly happened in that mountain town?”
“You’re threatened over ancient history, King, when you don’t have to be. She’s loyal to a fault.”
King. Maybe I’ll let him keep calling me that. “I know.”
“Then why are you asking me about a time that doesn’t matter?”
I lean both hands on the leather seat and drop my head. “I came close to losing her.”
“Not to me.” When I look back up at him, he smiles. “She may have been two hundred miles away, but you were always on her mind.”
“If I could change one thing, it would be the day she came back. Even if it meant her not coming back to me.”
He nods, seeming to agree. “Emotionally, she was already home with you. She just hadn’t left yet. You can’t change fate, but you guys changed your destiny. Congrats on the big day.” He walks to my old motorcycle and says, “I’m taking this bike. You don’t need it anymore, right?”
“No. I think I’ll stick with this one for a while.”
“Take care of Sara Jane and Madeline, and tell Neely goodbye from me.” Jason moves the kickstand up and walks my black bike out of the garage.
“You can stay for the reception and tell them yourself if you want.”
“I think it’s best if I go.” The bike roars to life and he slips a helmet on. “A little word of advice. Don’t ever forget what you’ve got.”
“What’s that?”
“A reason to stay.”
“I won’t. Not ever.”
Adding dark sunglasses, he gives me a two-finger salute and takes off down the drive.
My new bike’s nice, but not as nice as my wife. Ten minutes is too long to be away from her side, so I return to the terrace. Toasts are made and I take over the music, wanting a chance to dance with my Firefly.
As twilight becomes night, “Heal” by Tom Odell starts playing just as I take her hand and guide her to the middle of the dance floor. We sway, but soon our arms are wrapped around each other—the music, like our guests, beyond our universe of two.
When one song ends, we stay for two more. It doesn’t matter that they’re fast and pop. We stay, slow-dancing the night away.
Until we’re starved. We make small plates, and I look up to find an unlikely trio together—Langley, Brown, and Cruise sharing some laughs. The murder on the West End was pinned on Garvey Penner as a break-in looking to rob the place, so he could buy more drugs for April. I’m not sure how that story was thrown into the mix, but it stuck, and the police stopped snooping around.
The attack on Sara Jane and Chad was a tangled web that Quincy helped navigate, and Brown and Langley were eager to close. After all, their two suspects were dead. Somehow they found Nastas’s cell phone and were satisfied with that evidence. Case closed.
Since he shot April, Brown went through his own hearing. It was determined to be in the defense of Sara Jane. His badge isn’t in view tonight, but neither is that asshole act he used to put on for me. We’ve come to a silent agreement. I lie low and don’t cause trouble. He lets us be, and right now we’re happy. I join them and am handed a cold beer by my best friend.
I keep an eye on my girl. Shelly drags her out to dance. It’s good to see them enjoying their time together. Laughing. Joking. Dancing like their friendship never imploded.
“How does it feel?”
Cruise elbows me, bringing me back to the conversation in front of me. “What?”
He nods toward Langley, who says, “I asked how does it feel to have your mother back?”
I look at him. “Great. It’s a mirac—” My sentence cut off abruptly, and I give him a second look. Scraping a finger along my brow, I ask, “How’d you get that scar?”
Langley touches a scar just below his eyebrow. “This old thing? Danger of the job. No big deal.”
I glance at Cruise, and he’s staring at him too. Langley’s height matches the man in the black cap I saw when leaving the building with my mom. I take a long pull on my beer then nod, trying not to let on that we know. But I have to say something. He’s the reason my best friend lives today. He’s the reason I’m alive. “Thanks for all you’ve done for my family and me, when you didn’t have to.”
“It’s my job,” he replies nonchalantly.
“I think we both know you’ve gone out of your way to help, so thank you. I would not be here today if you considered me just another troubled kid to deal with.”