Tyrant (Satan’s Angels MC #1)

Chapter 14

Lark

I t’s been a hard, exhausting week. Everyday feels like it’s a hundred years long.

I knew when I came here that my mom wasn’t going to get better. Even hearing that she only had three months, probably less, didn’t prepare me for the way she’s wasted away. She doesn’t just seem shrunken. Her body has withered. She’s in a lot of pain. She tries to be brave and not let us see it, but just this morning, Raiden had to carry her from her bed to the bathroom because she wasn’t strong enough even to use her cane.

My dad is a wreck. It’s hard watching your partner change and get ready to leave and knowing that you can’t follow.

I sweep the dishes off the table after our family dinner. Raiden has been busy with club stuff that he won’t tell me about. He’s here first thing in the morning and back in the evening, always for dinner and he stays late. He demanded that I tell him if I was fed up with cooking and cleaning and being the rock here during the day, but I promised he’d never hear a complaint from me. I don’t mind making breakfast, lunch, and dinner. At least it’s something I can do.

“Can I help you?” Raiden tries to shoot out of his seat, but I wave him off. “I like washing up, but if you want to take Penny to the bathroom and help her wash her face, that would be amazing.”

“Sure thing.” Raiden hoists Penny up in his arms. “Come on, Penster. You look like you’re wearing half of your dinner.”

“Spaghetti is messy!” she protests but she giggles.

“Sure is.”

“You have sauce on your nose.”

“I do?”

“Yup.”

“I better wash up too then.”

“It’s okay. I’ll help you.”

I practically melt over at the sink. I wanted my brother to know Penny. I knew he’d love being an uncle. I was always so torn, but at least that part of me was fifty-fifty. I feel more like I ninety percent made the wrong choice, and knowing I came back when it was almost too late, is hard to bear.

I had harsh words last week with Gray about being overprotective even when he was trying to help. I was shocked that he’d so easily confess to murder . I’ve heard things, but that confession straight out of his mouth rocked the foundations of me. I’ve been vacillating between anger, grief, guilt, horror, and the need to apologize for being so hypocritical. It’s not lost on me that the very things I accused him of are things I have done.

I controlled our lives and shaped our future when I judged him and found him wanting. I started a new life without him, and okay, that might not be murder, but it was my own form of court, sentencing, and justice.

“I think I’m going it sit outside for a bit.”

My mom’s weak voice, crackling like thin paper, startles me at the sink. My hands are dripping water and soap, and I don’t even remember filling it to wash up. I was always quiet and introspective, but lately the way I’ve been disappearing into myself is starting to scare me.

“Sure.” Mom doesn’t need a lecture about resting or not being strong enough. She has a nice lawn chair out there. We’d all rather that she spends her time surrounded by beauty than in that converted room, hazy and in pain, probably afraid though she would never admit it. “Let me help you.”

She stands so shakily that I rush across the kitchen. She grasps the edge of the wooden table and pulls her cane into her other hand and waves me off. “No, honey, that’s fine. I’m okay.”

“Let Dad walk you out then?”

He’s already standing, the same lost and helpless expression on his face that he’s been wearing perpetually since I got home. He looks like a little kid, scared and in need of care.

She sees that too and nods, letting him take her arm. There are steps off the back deck, just a few and not steep, but I feel better watching them go out the patio door together and make their way over to the lounger chair heaped high with cushions and blankets at the far side of the yard.

My eyes flood with tears, blurring all the magnificent colors together.

“Mommy, can I go outside?” Penny races back into the kitchen and throws herself at my waist. She holds on tight, and I stroke her fine hair.

“Okay. But Grandma just wants to sit quietly. Is that alright?”

“Yup. I won’t run or scream.”

“If you ask, you could probably sit with her. I think she’d really like that. Seeing you and knowing you makes her so happy.”

Raiden kneels down at Penny’s level. He’s like a grizzly in his black t-shirt and nearly worn-out jeans compared to her. “Want me to come too?”

She picks up his silver chain and runs her fingers over it. That little action, so simple and innocent, makes my heart arrest in my chest. Gray wears a similar chain, a little chunkier, that he tucks into his t-shirts. It was a constant fantasy of mine when I was younger to think about picking out that metal, warm from his skin, and running my fingers back and forth over it.

Everything Gray did was a fantasy for me when I was younger.

Raiden takes Penny out, closing the door quietly behind him. I watch my family from the kitchen sink while I tackle the mound of dishes. I forgot how cooking for so many people uses up every pot and pan, plate and cup in the house. I hated the chore of dishes when I was younger, but as an adult? There’s just something contemplative and methodically easy about scrubbing, cleaning, rinsing, and stacking. Maybe I’m like my dad. Every little thing I can do to feel useful is at least something.

Eventually, my dad and Raiden leave Penny and my mom outside and troop back in. The table has already been cleaned off and I wiped it down before I started washing up.

“You good?” Raiden walks by, worrying about me still.

“I’m fine.”

“Want to join us for cards?”

“That’s okay. I’ll just finish up washing and then I’ll dry and maybe head outside for a bit.”

“We might play chess then. It’s been a while.”

My dad actually perks up at that. We both notice the small smile at the corners of his lips. He doesn’t say a thing, but it’s there. In the face of the inevitable, small wins are all we have.

It doesn’t take Raiden long to get the old chess board out of the closet down the hall. The small one right beside the larger one for blankets and towels was always reserved for games. He gets it set up quickly and lets my dad play white because he always plays white. Raiden always preferred black anyway, even though you always move second. I think. I never liked chess even though Raiden offered literally probably ten thousand times to teach me.

I take my time finishing washing and drying, putting the kitchen back in order. I can’t pretend like I’m fifteen again and everything is still okay in my world, but for just these few minutes, the nostalgia takes hold of me.

When the sink is empty, I hang up the wet towel and watch Penny skip across the yard over to my mom. She bends down, says something, and then walks back to the house. I meet her at the door, pulling open the heavy glass slider because she won’t manage on her own. I expect her to tell me that my mom fell asleep. I’m already worrying over needing an extra blanket.

Penny takes my hand and that’s exactly what she tells me. “Grandma’s sleeping.”

I’m just glad that she can find a few peaceful, pain-free moments. They’re becoming increasingly rare.

Raiden abandons his game quickly and is at my side in an instant. “I’ll help carry her in.” He motions to Penny. “Want to take my spot? Grandpa can help you while I’m gone.”

I’ve never seen my daughter get so animated. She races to the table and sits down, so short in the big chair, studying the board, solemn and excited at the same time. It’s so good for her to be back here with all the family she should have had all along. A girl needs more than just her mom. She needs a protective, funny, amazing uncle, grandparents to adore and spoil her, and a father who would tear the world apart to keep her safe, even if he just met her.

We head out, a lump in my throat so big I can barely breathe. I’m glad Raiden doesn’t try to make conversation. He’s a few steps ahead of me and when he bends over my mom, I can tell that something is wrong.

He freezes and then his hand shoots out to her neck, and I just know.

“No!” I rush to the other side of the lounger and collapse on the grass, clutching my mom’s hand. Her eyes are closed, and she looks peaceful, but she’s not breathing. She’s not sleeping. She’s gone. “No, Mom!” I clutch at her arm, my fingers grasping claws. “Raiden!” Screaming at him won’t help, but I do it anyway. “Raiden, please!”

He’s already on his phone, calling for an ambulance. I don’t know why, because it’s too late. But maybe that’s just protocol. What do I know? I thought we had time yet. Days. Weeks. Months. How could it be over already? How could she really be gone? The rational part of myself tells me that if there’s a way to go, this is it, but the irrational part of me is gulping for air with tears streaming down my cheeks.

I lift my head when I hear my dad’s choked yell. I see him on the deck, holding Penny. He knows too. He’s still stronger than I am. He swivels her around and picks her up and walks her straight back into the house so she can’t see. Not just her grandma gone, but her mom losing control.

Raiden’s voice comes from a distance, his instructions and words warped. I’m just so glad. So, so glad that I didn’t wait to make my peace. Whatever it cost me, I’m glad. I’m glad that I can hold my mom’s hand, still warm, in mine. I’m glad that I can be here with her, that I could be part of gifting her this backyard, her last wish, where she spent her final moments.

Life never happens like we expect it to.

I bow my head over my mom’s hand and sob gut wrenching cries that shake my whole body. It’s all I can do and I’m so thankful that my dad has Penny, and Raiden is working out the rest and not forcing me to get up and be strong. I’ll do that soon, for him and for Penny and for my dad and everyone else, but I need this time on my knees out here in the grass to say goodbye.