I instinctively cover the back of the vest. I watch as Ella’s mouth opens in shock.
“My brother gave you this?” she asks in disbelief.
I nod my head slowly.
I’m not sure what she is thinking right now, but she looks pretty curious.
“Wow. I wonder what made him do that,” she whispers, and I’m not sure if I was supposed to hear.
I shrug. “It’s nothing. I wasn’t sleeping, so he found a way to help me out.”
I try to sound casual, and I don’t know if I succeed.
“I do know that it means a lot to me that he did this. I don’t know if there will ever be a way I could repay him.”
They all nod their heads, but I honestly can’t tell what they are thinking.
Tyson found a way to help me while I heal, and there’s nothing more than that. He doesn’t want to be friends either so there is no way to read more into it than what it is.
I need to find the strength inside of me that I know is there.
My panic attack shows me more than ever that I need to find a way to fight this.
They did not break me then and they won’t now.
I can overcome this.
Chapter Nine
Tyson “Torch”
One year.
It has been one year since I lost her.
I close my eyes the second they open and try to will the pain away.
It’s been one year since Stacey was taken from me.
I already feel like there is a heavy weight on my chest.
The raw crushing pain I feel every time I think about Stacey being gone has multiplied.
I hear my phone going off on the night stand, but I already know that it’s my brothers and family.
There is no way anyone will leave me alone today.
I’m sure as fuck not ready for anyone to see my house.
I pick up the phone in a gruff voice. “Yeah?”
“Son.” That’s all my dad says. His tone is laced with concern and pain.
I know that Stacey was like a daughter to him and this day has to be hard for him.
“Dad,” I say back. I don’t know what I could say to him without letting my voice break.
“There is going to be a memorial at the club today. Stacey’s memory deserves to be shared and celebrated,” he says, and I squeeze my eyes closed.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Just give me an hour,” I say blowing out a breath.
“Okay son. I’ll see you soon. Sober,” he says before he hangs up. I know that’s not a request but an order.
I get up reluctantly.
I had changed so much in my house. It feels like a personal healing journey, so I’m not ready for anyone to see it or comment on it; especially today of all days.
I shower and make sure everything is locked up before I make my way out of the house.
My eyes catch the box like every other single time that I pass the room.
I turn my head and walk out the door.
I am in a place where I want to know what she had left as a surprise for me, but I also don’t want to know because if it’s a simple, silly gift like she loved to do, I don’t know if I could take it.
It was the last thing she had ever given me and that symbolizes something that I am not ready for.
I make it to the clubhouse in record time.
Everyone is there. I would say that it was early, but it’s already past noon.
I drank enough to make sure that I slept most of the day away because it’s just a reminder that I had failed my woman.
I hear some shouting. I look around the main room and see Krista standing with her hands on her hips glaring at Pyro and Bullet.
When I look at everyone else around the room, I see that they are trying to hold back laughter. It’s the same look everyone gave Ella when she had her hormonal outbursts, so I am pretty sure that it has something to do with Krista’s pregnancy hormones.
“I can’t believe you did that to me!” she yells and looks like she is on the verge of tears.
They both look like they would rather be anywhere than right here.
“What’s going on?” I ask curiously as I step further into the room.
“It has finally happened…” she whispers in horror.
“What has happened?” I ask, growing a little more concerned.
“I’m turning into Ella,” she says as she covers her face with her hands.
“I'm sorry, what?” I ask now a bit confused.
“Ella!” she says throwing her hands in the air and pointing at my sister like I don’t know who Ella is.
“I’m lost, how are you turning into her? Not that there is anything wrong with that,” I quickly add when my sister scowls at me.
“All my skittles are gone!” she whispers in defeat.
I’m pretty sure I look like a fish at this point because she honestly didn’t just say “skittles,” did she?
That would mean that she’s going to freak out like Ella did when she was out of apple juice.
“What happened to them?” I ask reluctantly. I am not an expert on handling pregnant women, but I think that it’s a bit too late to walk away from this conversation.
She points at Pyro and Bullet with a glare in her eyes.
“They went into my cupboard and ate them!” she says like she’s ready to get mad at a child.
“Your cupboard?” I ask again.
“Yes, they gave me a cupboard and said whatever was in there, they wouldn’t eat; but then I woke up this morning to both of them eating my skittles
