She squeezes her hand in mine, taking a deep breath. “No. No, it’s all right. I can do this.”
She gets to work. Even after she’s pulled on the gloves I gave to her at the clubhouse, I can tell she doesn’t want to touch Raphael. She has to in order to get his body into the hole, though, so she steels herself and then grabs him under the arms, the same way I did when I dragged him from the car.
Raphael was a big guy, and Soph is nowhere near as strong as me, so it’s not as easy for her to maneuver him to the side of the grave. She doesn’t give up, though. She positions his body directly beside the gaping hole in the ground and then she straightens, staring down at the man who’s plagued her dreams since that night back in Seattle.
“You were a vile piece of shit in life, Raphael. And you’re a vile piece of shit now. Fuck you.” She trembles as she spits on his body. Trembles as she uses her foot to shove him roughly into his final resting place. He lands face down, which feels highly appropriate. A strange sense of pride washes over me as my girl tosses the first shovel-load of dirt into the hole.
“My father would have a fit if he knew I was doing this,” she says.
“Burying the man who assaulted you?”
“Burying him like this, face down, with no blessing and no prayer for his soul.”
“Your father’s religious?”
She remains quiet for a second. I know it’s hard for her—she still hasn’t given me her real name, and I haven’t pushed for it. I know her last name is Romera, or at least her father’s last name is, but even that wasn’t information she volunteered. I heard him say it when she called him on that payphone back in Alabama. She still feels conflicted about parting with information that might endanger her family, and I get that… But she has to get that I am not a danger to her family. She must know that. The main threat to her family is now being covered with the dirt she’s letting fall from her shovel.
I don’t think she’s going to answer me, but then she speaks after all, talking in muted, quiet tones. “Yeah. He’s a preacher for all intents and purposes. My family are pretty devout Christians.”
I had no idea about this, but it fits. When I first met her, she had that uptight air about her that spoke of a sheltered, strict upbringing. That’s gone now, lost to the four winds. Now, she seems like an entirely different person.
I sit on the ground by the graveside and watch as she labors to fill it in. The work is backbreaking but she doesn’t complain and she doesn’t ask me to do it for her. With every load of dirt she piles on top of Raphael Dela Vega’s body, she seems to become more and more confident, her back straightening, her eyes flashing with determination. When it’s done, Sophia drops the shovel to the ground, rips off the gloves I gave her, and sinks to the ground beside me. My arm finds its way around her shoulders instinctively, and she folds into me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“About what you said before,” she says.
“Which part?”
“The part about you driving me back to Seattle.”
I cringe at the words. “Yes.” It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker taking her back home, but it’s the right thing to do. What I should have done weeks ago instead of dragging her further and further into this mess.
“I don’t want you to drive me back,” Sophia whispers.
Hearing her say that is like a punch to the gut. I understand. I don’t like it, but I will respect her wishes. “Okay. Public transport’s out of the question, though. I need to know you’ve walked back through your front door okay. I’m sure Cade won’t mind taking you if you pref—”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” She looks up at me, frowning slightly. “I mean, I don’t want to go. I mean I want to stay here. I want…I want to be with you.”
I’ve known pretty much from the beginning that she was attracted to me. It was fairly obvious from the way she acted around me and how often I caught her staring. I was hardly shy about the fact that I was into her, too, though. This, however, is a huge surprise. She looks a little stunned herself.
“I thought you’d jump at the chance to get out of here, Soph. Don’t you want to go home? See your parents? Your sister?” I stroke my hand over her wild, wavy hair, dreading whatever she’s going to say next. I want her to be safe. I want her to be a million miles away from Ramirez and his men, even if Raphael is no longer a concern. But I also want her in my line of sight at all times, close enough that I can touch…
“I’m going to call my dad,” she says. “I want them to know that I’m okay. And I want them to know that…that I’m not coming home.”
“Perhaps you should think about this before you make any rash decisions.”
“I have. It’s all I’ve been thinking about for days. I don’t think I can go back to who I was before, Jamie. I’m not…I not the person I used to be.”
When she calls me Jamie, I feel like I could be the person I used to be, if I tried really hard. That would mean giving up this whole enterprise, though. It would mean admitting that Cade’s sister is gone and that we’re never going to find her. After so long, I think I’ve already come to terms with that fact anyway. Admitting it is hard, though. Admitting it to Cade would be fucking impossible. We barely talk about her anymore. He must have come to the same conclusion that I have, but she’s his blood. He won’t stop looking until he’s found out what happened to her one way or another. And I won’t abandon him.
“This club is intense, Soph. Being here means you’re going to be more and more involved in the way we live our lives. Is that something you can put up with?”
“Yes. I want to. I—” She turns to face me, eyes about as wide as I’ve ever seen them. She’s so fucking beautiful. I want to wrap her in cotton wool and keep her safe. Forever. “I want to be a part of it,” she whispers.
“Be a part of the club?” This…this is guaranteed the very last thing I ever expected her to say. I still don’t think I’ve understood her correctly. “You want to be a part of the club?”
“Yes. I want to do what Carnie did. I want to prospect.”
“No. Fucking. Way.” She’s gone mad. I shouldn’t have made her bury Raphael. It must have caused severe trauma to her brain.
“Why not?”
“Come on. Let’s get in the car.” I help her to her feet, and then I’m half guiding, half dragging her back to the Humvee. She doesn’t make a sound when I open up the passenger door for her and usher her inside. Slamming the door closed, I hope the loud noise will be an end to the crazy conversation, but Sophia’s ready and waiting for me.
“Shay’s a woman. Fee, too.”
“That’s correct. They are.”
“So why can’t I be a Widow Maker? If they can be, then surely I can be, too.”
I start the engine but I don’t put the Humvee into gear. I swivel in my seat so I’m facing her, desperately trying not to launch myself across the other side of the car so I can shake some sense into her. “You can’t join because it’s dangerous, sugar. Things with Ramirez are about to get grade A fucked up. I’m trying to make your life safer, not even more dangerous.”
“Do you honestly think Ramirez is going to forget all about me now that Raphael’s gone? Am I still not the only person who can testify about your uncle’s murder?”
“Raphael killed Ryan. Raphael’s now dead. There’s no way to prove in a court of law that Hector ordered him to do it. That ship has well and truly sailed. The cops are never going to fix this. I’m going to have to fix it. The club is going to have to fix it. It’s going to be all out warfare, and that bitch Lowell is going to be along for the ride. God knows how it’s all going to end. I don’t want it to end with you swinging from the end of a rope, missing your fucking hands and feet, though.”