"Well, I was telling you how I want to figure out something to invest in," I say. "I want to do something that means something, and hell, having a good drink of whiskey means something to me."
The guys all crack up. "Here, here," Beam says, raising his can of beer.
"So you want to invest in some sort of whiskey business?" Jameson asks. "Because I might know some guys."
"Yeah?" I say, thinking he probably does have the connections, considering he's the one who is from this neck of the woods.
"Yeah, there are some guys out in Riverside who are looking to open a distillery. They have some capital, but need more. I heard they're going to some banks and looking around. They want to run it, but I can get you their names if you'd like," he tells me.
I nod. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I mean, hell, making whiskey in the Whiskey Mountains seems like destiny, doesn't it?"
Everyone nods. "Sure does. And hell, coming here feels like destiny too,” Beam says.
I couldn't agree more because being here in Alaska feels like coming home. I look across the yard, over at Marley at the table with the ladies. My heart tightens because being with her is like coming home.
I don't want to miss my opportunity to tell her that tonight.
And hell, tonight, I'll do more than tell her. I'll show her because she's not leaving this island unless she knows exactly where I stand.
And I plan to stand by her side the rest of my life.
Marley
Everyone who was over, spent all afternoon talking and catching up on the patio. Right after dinner, I consider pulling Bellamy aside and telling her what's going on with me. But when I came here today, I wasn't anticipating the whole Whiskey Mountain crew to be together. With everyone here, I'm less sure of myself. Now telling Bellamy before I tell Maker feels wrong, like I'm betraying him, which is crazy all things considered. He hasn't tried to get in touch with me once. It hurts thinking about that. But then I think about the way my brothers pummeled him to the ground. Did more than split his lip, they cracked my heart in two. And so why would Maker come back to me, come back to Riverside to get his ass kicked all over again?
I wish my brothers had gone easier, or I wish that Maker had fought harder. It's not that he didn't give it his all but I know he was holding back. I know he didn't want to fight. I know that because I still believe, after all of this, that Maker is trying to be good, to be honorable. Maybe these are just lies I'm telling myself, because after Wavy gets her babies to bed and everyone is sitting around a bonfire, they start talking about the old days. And even though I know there is so much pain laced in those memories in California when Maker was in charge of a drug ring, there's some sentimentality over some parties they all had, some nights out they shared, even if Jemma and Bellamy were paid escorts on those evenings.
But I know they're all too scared to touch too close to the truth where it stopped being fun nights out and started being hurtful, painful, filled with shame. The laughter dies out as everyone seems to be reminiscing on the past and their role in it. I've never felt less like I fit in in my entire life.
"Fuck," Jameson says, "sometimes I wish I'd been in California with you guys." His words remind me that he's from Alaska, same as me. He knows my brothers, but I doubt he knows who I am.
"Nah," Beam says, "you wouldn't have wanted to be there. You figured it out a long time ago, staying in the mountains."
Jemma nods in agreement, taking her husband's hand. "It's true, Jameson. I know it sounds glamorous and fun. Fancy yachts and fancy food and fancy clothes, but it was lonely."
"Lonelier than the mountains?" Jameson asks.
"A different kind of lonely," Walker says. "The kind of lonely that comes when you're in a crowded room and yet you feel like you're all alone. That's what it felt like to live in California."
Maker stiffens, running a hand over his beard, looking deep into the fire. And I want to leave. Part of me wishes I hadn't come at all because being reminded of where Maker comes from makes me question everything. I think of the baby inside of me, about the father they will have, a man who has killed, who has cheated and lied. Has he paid enough for his sins, I wonder, to change for good? I don't know.
Maker clears his throat. "I would never want to go back to that time," he says. "I fucked up more than I want to admit and I know I haven't properly apologized for all that’s gone down."
Bellamy shakes her head. "No, Maker. You saved my life."
Wavy speaks up too. "And you were there when we needed you."
Jemma nods. "It's true, Maker. You may have had a dirty past but it seems like you've come clean now."
"And you guys will really forgive me after all that shit, after all that pain and trouble?"
"Yeah, Maker, we do," Walker says. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'll say it as long as you need to hear it, brother. We've all fucked up in our own ways."
Jemma laughs. "Well, Wavy never really fucked up. She was always kind of the perfect girl."
Wavy shakes her head and even through the fire I can see the pink on her cheeks, the embarrassment at being called out. "I'm not the angel. Isn't that Marley Grove?"
"Marley Grove," Jameson says. "I didn't realize. Are your brothers Jet and Gavin?"
I nod. "Yeah, and Dylan. I was wondering if you would put two and two together."
"Hot damn," Jameson says, and he chuckles. "Okay. I think it
