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Reaper

Standing there in the shadows, I watched as that fucker held my wife.

She didn’t stop him. But when she slowly lifted her arms and held him back, my soul cried out in sorrow.

It was all my fault.

I fucking knew she was the wind.

No one could capture and hold on to the wind forever.

The wind was free, floating along its own path.

Never staying long before it moved on.

I knew the second those stupid motherfuckers left New York City they were coming here to tell her everything.

I could have told them the truth didn’t matter.

Remi believed in actions, not words.

So did I, and her actions right now were speaking volumes.

I wasn’t mad at her.

Never at her.

She didn’t cause this.

I did.

They did.

She was innocent and would remain that way if it were the last thing I ever did. She may not want me anymore, but I would never stop loving her. She was the very air in my lungs, the blood that pumped in my veins. My first thought and would be my last.

Turning away, I couldn’t look anymore.

She deserved a life I couldn’t give her.

She deserved much more than that. She deserved the world. Maybe that fucker could give it to her.

Maybe not.

But she deserved the chance, and I would give her that.

Purgatory, California, later that same night...

The house was dark when I slipped inside. I knew it would be. Standing there in the living room, I looked around the space and felt her everywhere. Everything was where she had left it. Even after all this time, it still smelled like her. I knew if I closed my eyes, I’d be able to see her flitting around, hear her voice, smell her around me in the house I built for her.

She loved this house.

This was where we began.

Where my life started.

Where she saved me.

The clubhouse may be gone, but the homes remained.

Sitting on the couch she picked out, I looked around the room, remembering everything about us. She was in the walls, the paintings on the wall, and the unwashed dishes that lay on the counter. I remembered reading somewhere that a solid foundation could endure any kind of storm. I didn’t think they had me in mind when they said that, though. I’d made so many mistakes. Some were worse than the others, but everything I did was for her. All I wanted was for her to live a life free of the demons of her past.

All my good intentions weren’t enough.

I wasn’t good enough.

In the end, I destroyed her, and I wasn’t sure I could fix it.

What kind of man destroys the one person who believed in him religiously?

“I’m scared, Max. What if they come back?”

“They won’t, Remi.”

“Promise?”

“I’ll special pinky promise you,”

“A special pinky promise? Those are really special, Max.”

“I know.”

“Wow.”

Remembering her innocent faith in me gave me the courage to survive. Not only for me, but for her. I knew, even back then, that I would do anything for her. She was the reason for everything in my life. From the moment I held her little hand through the cages that separated us till the night I broke my promise, she was the very soul in my chest.

She was all about us, and I was all about myself.

My selfish nature refused to let go of the past and just accept her love. Instead, I drove a wedge so deep between us I broke her more than the fucks who abused her. I was supposed to be the one person on the planet she could count on, trust above all others, and I threw it all away because I couldn’t stand there being a threat to her.

She longed for nothing more than to experience the feeling of being loved by someone. Despite my desire to do so, I could not give her even that.

Now she was gone.

I think on some level I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her. The realization that the woman I loved was never meant to be mine was a hard pill to swallow, and it would take my whole life to come to terms with it.

There would never be another for me.

As long as I lived, my soul would be hers.

Always.

Growing up, no one ever told me love would be this hard. To love someone, I would have to give all of myself—the good and the bad. I spent years hiding behind the demon that lived within me. Then she walked back into my life like a breath of fresh air. She was everything good and pure in this world. I was the darkness that protected her. For a short time, I had everything I ever thought I wanted.

Now that it was gone.

I realize I never had it at all.

How could one love the wind? For a short time, she swirled around me, enveloping me in her soft embrace. It occurred to me now that I should have had the courage to admit to her that I was too broken.

A lost cause that she couldn’t save.

I should have set her free.

Instead, my selfish nature refused.

Because that’s exactly what I was—selfish.

A selfish damaged bastard who couldn’t release the one pure thing in my life. In the end, I turned her into the very thing I’d been fighting.

I turned her into me.

A dark, soulless creature.

Holding my gun in my hand, I looked at the heavy piece. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I didn’t want to do anything without her.

“You can’t give up yet, brother,” Sandman whispered, walking out of the shadows. It had been many months since I saw him last. He was the last person I imagined seeing here.

I guess, in some way, it was fitting. We both lived our lives in the darkness, loving the wind and sun, refusing to give them up.

“She’s hurt, but with pain comes healing.”

“She will never forgive me.”

“Maybe, but if you quit now, you will never know.”

“He’s right, brother,” Bullseye added, walking into the room, taking a seat. “You are so close to the finish line. Be a real shame to end it all now without seeing how it all works out.”

“She thinks I betrayed her.”

“No, she doesn’t. I told her the truth,” Sandman admitted, leaning against the wall as I looked up at him.

“Why would you do that?”

He shrugged. “Because it was time.”

Shaking my head, I whispered, “She was free. You should have let her believe the lie. It would have been easier that way.”

“Nothing in our lives is easy,” Bullseye stated bluntly. “You know that more than any of us. The truth of the matter is that life dealt you and Remi a shit hand. You both did what you had to, to survive. In the end, you did what you thought was right, and she will too. There is no shame in that, but, brother, if you walk away from her now, you are letting every motherfucker who ever hurt the two of you win. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Yes, you do,” someone else muttered, walking down the stairs of the house.

Turning to the newcomer, I rose to my feet as a ghost I thought long dead walked toward me. “You know how to make this right. You don’t need us to tell you what to do. You know. You are Reaper. The President of the Golden Skulls. The meanest, baddest, motherfucker I’ve ever known. You are also the love of her life. She ran to you, Reaper, when she escaped those sick fucks. She didn’t hide, she didn’t cower under some stone. She ran to you because she knew you would protect her. So, protect her.”

Grabbing my long-lost brother, I hugged him as my body shook.

“Smoke.”

After a few seconds of manly back-slapping, I asked, “How are you alive? We all thought you died when the clubhouse blew.”

Smoke shrugged. “He who bloweth knows when to shit and get, brother. After the dust settled, I headed to the rendezvous point, but no one was there. I thought something went wrong. I didn’t know where to go next, so I just came home. I figured that if any of the brothers survived, they would eventually come here.”

“You knew we were moving the club to Tennessee. Why didn’t you head there?”

“Won’t ever leave California, brother. You know that,” the quiet man said, looking directly at me.

He was right. I did now.

“Besides, someone had to babysit Hangman. That fucker spends his days in any bottle he can find.”

Bullseye sat up. “Hangman’s here?”

“Yeah. He’s upstairs passed out.”

“Shit,” Bullseye cursed. “After the showdown with Ascari, he disappeared. All of us thought he just went and offed himself. We couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“He showed up here about six months ago and has been drunk ever since. So, is it over? Did we win? When can I expect you and the others to come home?”

Sandman smirked. “Ain’t over yet, brother.”

“So, who’s left to kill?” Smoke asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at my brother and said, “The man responsible for Remi’s nightmare. The head of the Russian Bratva. The Pakhan .”

Because I would ensure her happiness.

Even if it wasn’t with me.

Remi would have the happy ending she deserved.