Page 220 of Severed Heart

She palms her mouth with both hands at the sight of them, and I gently lower them to take in her expression. Having decided to save the reveal for a night just like this one, where we needed our spirits lifted. A plan seemingly executed as her wide eyes glitter along the expanse of the valley, which is blanketed by every imaginable stem fit for the region. Many of the blooms are already reaching knee height, and the flowers dance and sway with the sweep of the cool breeze filtering through as if summoning us both that it’s playtime. Proud of my handiwork, but even more so by the wonder and shock in Delphine’s expression, she only furthers the zing in my chest when she turns to me, gasping out her familiar sentiment. “Okay, Soldier,this isthebest night of my life.”

A deep ache surfaces when, for the first time, I allow her sentiment to pass without my typical rebuttal. “Then it’ll be the best night of my life, too.”

Briefly, I allow the burn of that defeat to do its thing while turning on the Ranger’s radio before rounding it to stand at her door. Hand extended as the soft music croons through the crisp night air, I finally utter the question I’ve been anticipating asking since I plowed and planted the field last fall. “General, can I have this dance?”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

TYLER

WINTER 2015

Christmas Eve

BLINK.

Palming the tile, streaming hot water pelts my back where I stand beneath the shower head in an attempt to cleanse myself,body and mind, of the last few days due to my latest mission. Intent on calming or, at the very least,mutingall lingering restlessness, even as a flurry of activity takes place down the hall.

Judy Garland croons throughout the house as my mom helps Delphine put up some last-minute decorations to add to the already festive, cozy décor while covertly helping me make sure Delphine doesn’t burn the turkey. Not just for our selfish sakes but for her own due to the amount of time she’s spent in preparation. Despite her rapidly deteriorating health since Thanksgiving, she’s mustered an inhuman, determined amount of energy, transforming our house into a twinkling, glittering haven of comfort.

Her finishing touches include three old-school sock stockings, our names freshly embroidered on them where they’re strung alongside our antique-stove fireplace. The stove currently houses a low-lit fire, completing her ideal picture while chasing out any winter chill.

Outside, I can faintly hear Zach enjoying the hell out of his early Christmas present from Delphine, who gifted him the keys and ownership of her Ranger. Though it stung to see her relinquish them and pass on the gift, it was a moment to witness as Zach’s eyes lit up, but not on the Ranger, on Delphine. I could see it then—his need to embrace her in some way in gratitude, but even better, his desire to do it, though he’s not quite there yet.

It’s been a cumulative mix of peaceful and hellacious months, but with Delphine’s latest brainchild hatched, as of this morning, we’ve maimed Miami in a way they aren’t going to recover from anytime soon. In fact, I’m certain that any move Miami ponders on making now, they’ll be second-guessing, rethinking, and most likely shitting their pants before carrying anything out. In addition, her latest scheme brought a much-needed break for our club and exhausted Ravens.

The brilliant strategy my general came up with derived from an interaction Tobias recounted, in painstaking detail, only once for Delphine and me about what transpired the night Dom died. The exchange between Matteo, Andre, Dom, Tobias, and Cecelia. An exchange in which Delphine had memorized and concocted a revenge plot consisting of the things typical in drawing out the evils of most men—money, greed, and power.

Our temporary solution laying within Andre’s own spoken confession of ‘things getting a little too light down south.’

In ruminating on that, Delphine decided we should finally share some of our hard-earned wealth in her devised game of tit for tat. To lure in and sprinkle some of our blessings to Miami’s most desperate and bloodthirsty bottom feeders. To those who get crumbs of intake from the lion’s share—and are treated with the least respect—to doour bidding.

And because Miami so effectively fucked with our club’s morale intit, she decided we should deliver just as effectively intat. It took a little time, but together, Tobias and I lured in the lowest on Miami’s totem pole and offered them a small fortune to flip on their own to deliver some epic payback.

I was wary of the plan at first. However, fifteen of Miami’s runners and mistreated gophers flipped on them overnight. Not only giving us intel but taking a few of the raven-inked defective out with our offered added bonus. Ultimately, it turned out to be the best money our club has ever spent. The best part? Tobias and I made calls after boarding our plane home to the personal, private cell phone numbers of those now highest in their ranks while they were in the midst of actively plotting against us.

Once they answered, we were both able to wish them a heartfelt Merry Christmas, our calls ending as Ravens blew holes through their front doors before spreading the rest of our Christmas cheer.

Not only was her tactical plan fucking brilliant, but it ended up in a lot less bloodshed for our Ravens as Miami practically slew themselves. The downside is that when they finally do sum up the nerve and come back for us, we know they’ll make it hurt. But this is war, and with blinks of Dom still heavily flashing through my mind and his words in my psyche, regret and remorse will never factor in.

Rinsing off, I step out and grab a towel as my phone rumbles with a message. Checking it for the first time in months without apprehension, I make quick work of dressing before setting off to join the festivities. Pausing my footing at the end of the hall, just a step outside the living room, I spot Mom opening a familiar box and retrieving my cotton ball ornament before presenting it to Delphine.

“I was always going to gift this to him when Tyler made his own family,” Mom relays, emotion clear in her voice. “These are yours now.”

Delphine bites her lip at the sight of it before she speaks. “Oh, Regina, I appreciate this. But it’s clear you have so much pride and mother’s love for him, and why you want to rid yourself of it because this isugly.” She tosses her head back at Mom’s answering frown and laughs, and I join in. Delphine’s eyes widen as she turns and sees me, her expression dimming with a little guilt. “I was joking, Sold—”

“Oh, no,” I quip, loving that she’ll forever remain her brash self in any situation. “You can’t take it back now that you’re busted”—I stalk toward her—“and I was five when I made that, youasshole.”

“Five or not, you’re going to ruin our beautiful tree when you hang that monstrosity.” She extends it toward me, covering her eyes with her free palm. “But I love you enough to suffer if you hang your ugly ornament.” Mom laughs at this, staring between me and Delphine, eyes softening at our back and forth as I give as good as I’m getting.

“I never claimed to be Picasso, just like you can’t claim to be an Iron Chef.” Delphine lowers her palm to glower at me as I wink at Mom. “But ifmy mommysays I’m talented, I believe her.”

“You better take that false confidence because I won’t be encouraging you to paint or participate in any other artistic endeavor,” she jokes before taking more decorations out of Mom’s offered box and unwrapping one surrounded by tissue.

“Oops, that’s baby’s first ornament,” Mom says, snatching that one back. “It’s a mother’s right to keep this one,” Mom joins the razzing, darting her eyes between us. “So, let’s not make this fight physical because I will,” she warns playfully as a knock sounds on the door.

“Uh, oh, we locked Zach out,” Delphine says as she walks over with a wince. Opening it, she stiffens in surprise when she sees a Marine dressed to the nines in his blues on the other side.

“You’re not Zach,” she chuckles as he grins down at her. “Soldier,” she calls, glancing back at me. “I think it’s for you.”