We had more to fight for than they could ever know.
BLUE
I lovedfew things more than being on the back of my man’s bike.
It took me months to get free of my bonds to be able to ride on the back of his blue flaming Harley like a true Old Lady, and from the moment I’d clutched my arms around his narrow waist, I’d known I’d found real peace.
Whenever things got too hard over the next few months after that night at the Raiders farmhouse, we’d slip out into the night on the bike to let the fierce whip of wind and the rumble of the animal engine soothe the jagged edges of our grief and terror.
Because I’d been right, of course.
Rooster and Hazard didn’t stop coming for us and the club.
In fact, they hadn’t even really begun.
And no matter how prepared we’d thought we were for the onslaught, the ensuing melee brought pain and consequences to The Fallen none of us could have imagined.
Sometimes the guilt got too much for me, dragging my heart down to the depths of that dark place Rooster and Hazard had hollowed out of my gut. In those moments, Aaron and my sisters in The Fallen were there for me, reminding me that I wasn’t at all to blame.
There was so much more to the White Raiders hatred than just the loss of me to Aaron.
A terrifying history of secrets and betrayals.
But we were in the eye of the storm, enjoying the Indian summer weather of early September after spending the last week celebrating a wedding in the family.
Aaron had woken me early the morning after, already dressed in his hoodie and cut, motorcycle boots on his feet and a smile on his gorgeous face.
“Get dressed, Blue,” he’d ordered as he stroked the skin of my healed cheek, a habit he’d taken up that made me feel beautifulbecauseof the scar and not in spite of it. “We got a date with your birthday present.”
It didn’t matter that it was my birthday, really. Every single day since I’d moved in with Aaron was a gift I didn’t take for granted. I loved our brick house, and I’d even grown to love sharing the loft with Curtains, who turned out to be almost as hilarious as my man and wildly competitive.
The first time I’d beaten him atCall of Duty, Aaron bought me a custom trophy. I kept it in the loft so Curtains had to see it every day.
“Where are we going?” I asked Aaron as I applied my makeup, and he waited patiently, used to giving me time to put on my face and choose a cute outfit. I would never be a “wake up and go” girl, and he’d learned to accommodate it without struggle.
“Like the look’a you,” he said when I’d questioned his tolerance. “Like the look’a you happy and confident even more. It’s no skin off my nose if I gotta factor in some extra time when makin’ plans for you to get dolled up the way you like.”
The wayyoulike.
That was the kind of man Aaron Clare was—selfless and giving and always protective of my mental health and independence.
I was so fucking lucky.
And I couldn’t wait to give him the present I’d been waiting two weeks to gift him because I was dramatic enough to want to do it on my birthday.
It was really a gift to both of us, and I couldn’t wait, after all this time, to see his face when he opened it. I subtly included the ribbon-wrapped files in my cute sparkly blue backpack before we left the house and took off into the weak light of the rising morning sun.
We drove the Sea to Sky Highway all the way down to Vancouver to a cemetery of all places.
It was pretty, though, filled with established oak trees and well-tended flower beds. Aaron led me through the tombstones without a word, and I didn’t question him.
I’d learned to trust him whatever came, to follow him without doubt, and I was happy to do so now.
Finally, he stopped before a grave at the edge of the cemetery. It had a small plaque placed into the ground, and he had to bend to clear it of debris before I could read what was written there.
Hope Bonham.
I blinked at the name, mouth dropping open as I processed the information.
