“Why?” I knew that I shouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t help it. My tongue wasn’t so restrained as the rest of me. “What made her different?”

“When you’re meant to know—” He turned to face me and his white eyes came to mine. “You will know.”

“Great,” I grumbled, my knee jiggling. “Why does she come once a week if I can’t hang her? Can I Dragon practice on her?”

He chuckled so deep it sounded demonic. “Although I think all of the training in the world is good, no. She comes one night, once a week.”

“What if she screams? Everyone hates the ones who scream.”

“She won’t,” Skully said, staring up at the Virgin Mary. “Simply because she will not ever know about this.”

I blink past the memory. Even as the coffin goes down, I can’t shake the anger that’s constantly simmering around my heart. Leaning down, I kiss Wolf on the top of his head, keeping my eyes on Victor. I know he can’t see me behind my dark glasses, but I feel it. It feels good to be able to do it freely.

Hiking Wolf up farther, I tighten my grip around him as Ruby leans down, picking up a white rose and bringing it to her lips, kissing the petals softly before dropping it down to Mama’s coffin. Even as a kid, Mama was a good person. She was pure-hearted and everything a teenage girl needed in their life. I know that this loss is going to be huge on Ruby, but as usual, she’ll hide it, but it’s always going to be my job to find her in her darkest areas and sit with her.

She steps back and Mikhail’s hand finds hers. That same rage burns to life, only hotter. I wish I could take satisfaction in the knowledge that he knows exactly who the fuck I am, but unfortunately, he doesn’t. Now I have to wear: the biker who knocked up Ruby years ago by accident. Yeah, and the dumb fuck actually believes it.

Royce moves into me. “I know you want to take this slow from here on out, but brother…”

“I know,” I whisper, keeping my eyes locked on Victor.

“You’ve waited long enough.”

“I know,” I repeat, squeezing Wolf into my chest.

He raises his little arms up and rests them around the back of my neck, and I take him to the roses, leaning down and picking up two, giving one to him. “Drop it in for Nona.” He puckers his little lips and I drop it down into the dirt.

I kiss the petals and let it fall from my fingers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper under my breath. Only she knows what I’m sorry for, and that’s how it will always stay.