Page 129 of The Fates We Tame

Niro:You really don’t know the answer to that? Like, can’t you read?

Spark:Fuck you.

Niro:Wow. Someone’s a grouch this morning. Does someone need a hug?

Bates:Vi loves sentimental shit. Got her a bracelet with mine, her, and Avery’s initials as charms on it. Took her up to my uncle’s cottage where we’d been before. Shit like that. Memory type shit.

Saint:Picnics.

Clutch:Picnics? Who the fuck are you? Martha Stewart?

Niro adds a row of laughing emojis.

So does Bates.

Saint:Fuck you all. Briar fucking loves when I grab some food, wrap her up in one of my thick riding jackets, and ride down the coast. Thermos of coffee. Talk about important shit or nothing at all. Then ride back with her on the back of my bike. Leaves her feeling some kind of way when we get home. Never feel closer to her than those days. Costs fuck all but a bit of time and effort.

King:Gotta agree with that one.

Niro:Rare I get Cat to agree to be a backpack rather than take her own bike… but when I do … yeah. I feel that.

Spark: If you’re all turning into sentimental pussies, I’m going back to sleep with my old lady. Night, motherfuckers.

Niro:Technically it’s morning, motherfuckers.

Halo:Find things that relax her mind. Ari likes puzzles and journalling and shit. Speaking of which, Ari’s just walked back into the bedroom. Gotta go, fellas.

The chat fizzles out, and I’m sipping my coffee when my phone vibrates with an incoming video chat.

“Hey, Teddy Bear,” Mom says.

She looks tired. Dark circles sit beneath her eyes. But Dad reassures me that everyone on her medical team is incredibly optimistic about her treatment. She’s on the deck at the back of the house in a blanket, and the pre-dawn sky is dark blue with slashes of purple and orange.

“What are you doing awake?” I ask.

She takes in a deep breath and looks up at the sky. “I’ve got a new appreciation for the sunrise these days.”

I hear the unspoken words. That life is short and precious and can be taken away in a heartbeat. That the sunrise is a sign you made it through another night and live to fight another day.

“I love you, Mom,” I say, trying to choke down the emotion I feel.

“And I love you, sweetheart. How’s Sophia?”

“She’s good. Her family don’t particularly like the fact I’m an Outlaw.” I gloss over the reason why.

She huffs. “Lord knows why they wouldn’t love you. A veteran. A medic. A good man. Tell them I didn’t raise you all these years for them to turn up their nose at the sight of a little leather.”

I chuckle. “Always the momma bear.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Would you expect anything less? I can’t wait to meet her in person. You think she’d be okay with me messaging her? Just to get to know her a little.”

The idea of the two most important women in my life loving each other warms me inside. “I think she’d like that.”

There’s a comfortable moment of silence between us. I sip my coffee while Mom looks up at the sky.

“Hey, Mom,” I say. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”