Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(62)
“Would you like to see his grave?” I ask Diem, reaching out to take her hand and bring it to my lips. She nods, and I lead her to the backyard where the grass is beginning to grow over the two mounds of dirt. I watch her as she reads the hand-carved wooden crosses that mark the heads of Dirk’s and Saylor’s graves.
“I’ve never felt more joy than when I watched Cyrus take his last breath,” she whispers. “I wanted him to suffer, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him still being here, alive, when my brother was dead and gone. I never hesitated. Is something wrong with me?”
Her eyes search mine for some kind of understanding or truth. But I don’t have it to tell. “I ask myself that question every day. You just have to find your own solution. It’s the only way to keep you from going insane.”
“What’s your solution?” she asks, staring up at me with wide, patient eyes full of empathy.
“I love hard. Too hard. I tell myself I do it because I care. I wrong those who have wronged the ones I love. My club, my brothers, and my girl. I’ll kill any and every motherf*cker that hurts them. And I don’t feel regret because in my f*cked-up brain, I believe they deserve it.” Looking down at Dirk’s grave, I feel the same joy Diem does. I’m glad Cyrus is dead. I’m glad Death Mob is too. And if I had to do it all over again, I would.
Diem blows out a breath, moving her neck from side to side. “Okay,” she says, slapping me on the arm. “Enough of this sappy shit. I’m hungry. And we’re getting along too well. It’s weird and you’re getting boring.” She walks toward the house, and I watch her ass sway from side to side, leaving me feeling guilty considering I’m standing at the foot of her brother’s grave.
“Yeah,” I call after her. “You need to change too. You look like a slut in that dress.”
“Yeah?” she yells over her shoulder. “Well your breath smells like dog shit.”
Damn it feels good to get back to normal.
*
The normalcy lasts all of one minute, which is the amount of time it takes to get back to the house. Now we’re standing at the threshold waiting to walk in and our emotions are crashing through us like waves once again.
“Maybe a cigarette before we go in?” Diem suggests. I agree and light us a smoke. She doesn’t ask, but I know she wants to know everything about her brother, so I start from the beginning.
“Your dad put Dirk in the care of a man who raised him until he was seven. He then called Roach, who was once Nationals president for Sinner’s Creed. The man who owned this house and raised Dirk as his grandson owed a favor to Roach, so he took Dirk in. Roach thought it would help change him. It didn’t.” I take a seat in one of the chairs, and she sits in the other, fully invested in the story.
“What do you mean change him?”
“He was a real *. Treated Dirk like shit, but it made him strong. Black made him the man he was.”
“Black?” she asks, confused.
“Yeah. Like death. Like nothing.” I take a drag from my cigarette, hoping the nicotine will help calm my own emotions when I think about a life that might have been better for Dirk if his daddy wasn’t such a chickenshit.
We sit and I know she’s looking at me, but she isn’t pushing, so I take my time. When I feel like I’m as ready as I’m gonna get, I stand and lead her inside. I watch her face as she takes it all in. By the surprised look, I’m guessing it’s not what she expected. “Saylor knew Dirk had a lot of bad memories here, so she remodeled the house and they made new ones here together.”
“What’s all this?” she asks, pointing to all the covers and pillows on the floor.
“The Friday before Saylor died, she wanted to have a sleepover with her closest friends. Me, Rookie, Carrie, and two of Saylor’s other friends stayed. We all slept here together.” I don’t look at her. I just stare at the spot I laid in and remembered the last time I looked at Saylor. She’d shot me a wink and told me she loved me.
“That’s pretty amazing. I’m glad she had such good friends,” Diem whispers, but her voice still sounds loud in the silence.
Moving on, I show her around the small kitchen and dining room, then down the hall to their bedroom. She walks in, but I stay outside the door. “I haven’t moved anything. I’ve only been here a few times since it all happened. This is their sanctuary, you know? I feel like an intruder.”
Nodding, she smiles. “I get it.”
I point across the hall. “This is where I stay. It was Black’s room, but Saylor gave it to me. For some reason, this place felt like home. She always made me feel welcome.”
“Well, it’s a lot better than your room at the cabin, that’s for damn sure.” She smirks and a little bit of the weight on my shoulders seems to lift.
I look at our reflection in the mirror, standing side by side in Dirk’s house. I don’t feel ashamed for being here with her. It feels right. Like this is truly what Dirk would have wanted. Even if he didn’t, I know Saylor would’ve approved and Dirk would’ve done whatever in the hell she told him to.
“I’ll tell you everything I know about him,” I say, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“I think I have enough to reflect on right now. I just need some time to let it all sink in.” She pulls my duffel bag from the floor and digs around until she finds one of my shirts. “Mind if I shower?”