Rewriting Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC #1) (11 page)

Someone asks Jaxon a question and he says my name. He hasn’t said my name before, so I’m a little curious. This time when I flip the coin, I pray that I get heads so I can hear what the question was. Luck is on my side for the time being.

“Okay, spill,” I say, eager to know the question.

“The question was…who I would take a bullet for.”

Definitely not what I was expecting. It confuses me. I know we are pretty good friends, but I thought he’d for sure take a bullet for one of his guy friends and former teammates. Everyone around the table is silent, trying to figure out for themselves what that means.

Before the game starts up again, I take his hand in mine and give it a squeeze. I want him to know that I appreciate what he said. Even though I’m still a little confused, it makes me happy that he considers me worth saving, like a best friend or sister. Having someone care for me like that means more than wanting me as a girlfriend or a friend.

He looks down at our joined hands and then back up to my eyes. “You’re an amazing person, Danielle, and someone I consider family.”

I push back my tears and squeeze his hand once more before releasing it. “Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say.

“You ready to go?” he asks as he releases my hand.

I'm feeling a good buzz but am more emotionally drained than anything. I am definitely ready to go home. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” I stand up and wait for him to follow.

“Not at all.” He takes my hand and leads me to his truck.

When we are outside my house, I turn to look at him. “Thanks for making me go. I really did have a good time.”

He smiles in return, then waits till I’m in the house before driving away.

I head straight to my room and don’t even bother changing before slipping under my covers. I barely have time to finish a full thought before I fall into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 12

I wake up to my phone going off. I reach over to my nightstand and unlock the screen. It’s a text message from Jaxon telling me he is heading back to school. I type a quick response and jump in the shower.

I dress in yoga pants and a t-shirt, then head down to find something to eat. Once in the kitchen, I notice that Gram isn’t up yet. She wasn’t in the living room and she’s not in here, so either she went out for a bit or she’s sleeping. It’s after one in the afternoon so my guess is that she’s napping, which she often does in the afternoon.

When I finish my orange juice and a bowl of cereal, I go back to my room to clean and gather laundry. It takes me a little over an hour to finish, then I head down to start the wash.

I still haven’t heard or seen my grandmother up and about yet. I should to let her sleep, but really want to see what her plans are for the day. I’m thinking a nice lazy day is in order and what better than to lie around on the couch all day and watch movies?

I quietly open her door and see her in bed. I notice that she still has some pictures on her bed from last night. She must have fallen asleep while looking at them. As I step quietly into her room to pick them up to put them away, I notice how utterly still she is. She looks very pale too. I walk slowly up to the bed and gently shake her. But when my hand touches her shoulder, I feel how cold she is. “Gram, wake up.”

She doesn’t move or even attempt to open her eyes, and the only thing that I keep thinking about is how cold she is. “Gram, time to get up,” I say again but a little louder. Still nothing. “Gram, wake up…please…”

I shake her again and again, but she doesn’t move and she doesn’t wake up.

“
Gram
!” I shake her one last time, almost violently and start to sob. “No no no no no! Gram, please wake up.
Please
!” But she’s gone. She must have passed away last night while I was out drinking and having a good time. “Gram, please don’t leave me…”

***

Today is the day of Gram’s funeral. The past four days have been a blur of emotions and activity. I learned that she had heart disease and kept it from me. She knew she was sick for almost a year and declined any treatment. Her doctor said that he gave her medicine to make things easier for her and more comfortable, but she wouldn’t let him do anything else for her. I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me, but knowing what I know now, everything makes sense. Her being sick all the time, arguing about which college to attend, making sure I went out and built a life of my own beyond the walls of her house, and even our talk the night before she died. I see now that it was her goodbye.

I also learned that she had planned her funeral and made all the arrangements, going as far as making sure it was all paid for. That means at least I don’t have to worry about what needs to happen or what she would want. The funeral home even sent out all the announcements and said they would take care of all the rest. I'm thankful because I’m so lost right now I would probably mess it up, and she deserves to have a nice service and burial.

People stopped by the house and some called to give their condolences and ask if there is anything they could do. I tried to be polite, and though I'm not sure if I succeeded, no one commented on it. I just wanted to be left alone so I could come to terms with the fact that my grandmother is gone and is never coming back. It’s so hard because she was my rock; she was what grounded me. What am I supposed to do without her? I don’t worry about what I’ll do financially, not like I’d have to since she left the house and almost $50,000 of life insurance. On top of that, I still have the college fund and trust fund from my father. Money was the last thing on my mind. But I honestly didn’t know what I would do
physically
without her here. I would give all the money away if I could get my grandmother back.

I look at the clock and see that I only have an hour before I need to be at the funeral home, so I jump into the shower and put on the new black dress I bought yesterday. I didn’t have anything that I wanted to wear on the day I have to say my final goodbye to my grandmother and I want to look nice for her.

I don’t put any makeup on so I won't have to worry about ruining it when the tears come again, and I know they will. I thought I’d be all dried out by now, but I still cry every time I think about her or saying goodbye. I leave my purse because I don’t need to take anything with me. I just want to go and get this over with so I can come home, cry myself to sleep, and then tomorrow start to figure out where I go from here. That's all I feel like I've been doing lately, trying to figure out what to do and where my life will lead me.

***

The ceremony was beautiful and so many people showed up. More than I thought possible. Some I didn’t recognize, but mostly friends of my grandmother that I’ve seen from time to time and of course our neighbors; Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix, but no Zane. The only person who was really there for me was Jaxon. I don’t know how he knew about my grandmother’s death, but he showed up on my doorstep the day after, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels, chocolate, and pizzas. We didn't even really talk; he was just there for me.

I’m still standing at her final resting place in the cemetery when I hear my name being called behind me. I don’t turn around, but I feel someone stop beside me.

“Danielle?” I don’t recognize the voice so I glance up to see who would be here, talking to me. I regret it immediately. I know from one look exactly who it is.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I try to keep my voice down but am so pissed off that my whole body is shaking. He looks at me in shock, but quickly recovers.

“Danielle, I know I’m the last person you probably want to see right now, but when I heard what happened, I had to come to make sure you were okay.”

I can’t believe this man. After everything he has done to me and put me through, he shows up here, the day I buried my grandmother. “Okay? Am I okay? What the fuck do you care?” I seethe.

“Danie—”

“No! Shut your fucking mouth. How dare you come here, today of all fucking days, and think that you deserve to even ask that fucking question? What? You think because you fathered me that you get to walk into my life anytime you want? That you could ever comfort me? If that’s what you think, then you are even more of an asshole than I thought.”

I turn to walk away but he grabs my arm. “Danielle, I understand that you're angry—”

“Angry? No, I moved past anger a long fucking time ago. Now, I’m just plain fucking livid!” I try to walk away again, but stop because I want to say one more thing to him. “I understand that you were hurt after my mother died. I get it. You gave me up. I get that too. You had to do what you did to make yourself better. And I had a great childhood and was raised by a woman who loved me enough to last a lifetime. So if it’s forgiveness you need, fine, I forgive you for abandoning me. But you gave up the right to be my father the day you walked out on me, so do me a favor and leave me the hell alone. I never want to see or hear from you again.” I don’t wait for his reply. I turn and walk away. Now he knows how it feels to be rejected.

Instead of going to the car that is waiting for me, I walk home. I could use that time to cool off and get my thoughts straight.

When I get in the door, I drop to the floor and let all the pain and anger out. I’ve lost everyone I love: my mom, my dad, Zeke, Zane, and now my grandmother. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now. I don’t even know how to make it through the rest of the day, let alone the rest of the week, or year. Should I still attend the community college or should I go somewhere else? Or maybe I shouldn’t even go to college at all.

I pick myself up off the floor, grab the bottle of Jack that Jaxon left, and head up to my room. Tonight, I only want to forget. I’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.

***

I wake up the next morning with a massive headache. I drank the whole bottle but everything still hurt, so I gave up and let myself fall asleep, praying for some peace. But of course that was too much to ask. I had nightmare after nightmare, but since I was so wasted, I wasn’t able to rouse myself to get away from it all.

I go downstairs to get some water and Tylenol and head back up to bed. Soon after, I fall asleep again, but I’m woken up by someone banging on the front door. Sneaking a glance at the clock on my way downstairs, I take note that I've actually slept for four hours and now it is noon.

When I open the door, I see a very distraught Zane in front of me. “Thank fuck! Why the hell haven’t you answered your fucking phone!” he booms.

I’m so shocked and confused that he’s even here that I can't get any words out before he pushes his way inside, slams the door, and engulfs me in his arms. “Why didn’t you call me? I had to hear it from my mother when she called last night to ask why I wasn’t at the funeral. Why didn’t you tell me, Baby Girl?”

The shock passes and is replaced with rage. “What do you mean, why didn’t I call you? Why the fuck would I? You have barely even talked to me this past year. You didn’t call on my birthday or even graduation. So ask me again why the fuck I didn’t call you.” I start toward the kitchen, then turn to face him and yell, “And excuse fucking me, but I was a little preoccupied with finding my grandmother dead and trying to get through the pain and shock of losing her, so I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t think to call you. Not like you would have answered your fucking phone for me anyway!” I walk away again without waiting for him to reply. I’m so pissed at him that I could care fucking less that his feelings are hurt or what the fuck ever is his problem.

“Look, Danielle, I’m sorry, okay? I know I haven’t been around lately, but you should have called me. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

But I had gone through it all alone because I have no one. “Well, I did. I was the one who found her. I was the one who had to deal with people calling and stopping over to tell me they were sorry. I was the one who had to sit by myself at the funeral. I was the one who had to deal with my father showing up. And then I was the one who had to come home to this empty house that holds all of my dead grandmother’s stuff. Maybe I shouldn’t have had to go through all that alone, but I did, so I don’t fucking need you.” I end on a sob. I can’t do any of this anymore.

He instantly steps forward and wraps me in his arms, and I can do nothing but cling to him while all my agony and grief washes through me. I cry harder now than I have the past five days. God, I’ve missed him so much! I thought I could do this without him, but I can’t. I need him here with me, I need him to tell me it’s all going to be okay and that he’ll be there for me.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out. I’m here, shh.” He drops us down onto the floor and then starts to rock me back and forth, trying to soothe me. If he only knew what his presence alone does for me. I don’t need his words, I only need him here to hold me.

***

Zane orders Chinese takeout, and after he gets over the shock of hearing that my father showed up, we discuss what happens next. I tell him that my grandmother left me everything and that I want to keep the house. I tell him that I’m still going to go to school in the area, but I might get an apartment. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay in this house without Gram, at least for a while. The pain is too fresh, the memories too much. It’s more than I can bear right now.

“Why don’t you come to school in Austin? You got accepted there, right?”

Yes, I got accepted there, but I don’t think I should or could go. Sure, I’ve missed him and want to get back to the way things used to be before he left, but is that even possible? I mean, so much has happened over the past two years, I’m not so sure we can get back to the carefree relationship we had before. It would be too much to see him every day and know what I’m missing and that I’ll never be more than just a friend to him.

“I don’t know, Zane.” I don’t know how to explain it to him, but I’m sure he knows.

“Look," he says, "I know things have been different lately, and that’s my fault. But hear me out. Spend the summer tying up loose ends and packing what you want to bring with you, and then put everything else in storage. Or shit, even leave it all where it is. I’m sure you’ll come back from time to time and that would give you a place to go when you need to get away or need to be close to your grandma. Just say you’ll come with me. I promise, we will work this out. We’ll fix what needs to be fixed. Let me take care of you, Baby Girl.”

Can we fix our friendship? Maybe…I guess. What do I have to lose anyway? “Okay, I’ll call the schools next week and get everything switched over. It might be too late to get a dorm room, but I could use some of the money I got from my dad for an apartment.” I don’t want to have to use that money, but I will if I need to. This could work. Maybe we can fix what is broken with us and finally move on. At least I’d have him back in my life and I wouldn’t feel so detached and alone anymore.