Page 62 of Twisted Fate

“She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I go and sit by her grave sometimes, just to talk to her and have a beer. It’s her birthday today, she would have been twenty-four.”

He was sitting there with me instead of sitting with her?

That made me feel bad.

She was lucky to have been loved by him.

I could tell he would have showered her with love and devotion when she was alive.

I drained my beer and jerked my thumb towards the door.

“Then get out of here and go see her. Tell her I said Happy Birthday.”

A small smile tugged on his lips as he took another sip of his drink.

“She’d have liked you, you know? She always said Slash and Skeet needed a good woman around to put them in line. Skeet was only fourteen when she died, but she always told him some day, someone would sweep him off his stupid feet and bring him back to earth from his macho bullshit. I’ve never seen him in love, Donovan, and he’s a fucking pussy cat with you.”

I snorted, taking our empty beer bottles and dropping them in the trash.

“You’ve seen us fight.”

“Couples fight.”

“With blades at their throats or guns in their faces? C’mon man,” I scoffed, but he grinned, his dimples popping out and giving him a younger appearance.

“Nah, we know you two get off on it, so we leave it alone. It’s just foreplay for you.”

“We’d kill each other if people stopped interrupting us,” I smirked, crossing my arms and leaning my hip against the bench.

He looked deep in thought for a moment before he gave me a small smile.

“Hey, you want to come see Sasha with me?”

I paused, feeling like I’d be intruding.

“Oh, Diesel, I couldn’t…”

“I wouldn’t mind the company. Grab some beers and let’s go, yeah?” He waved my protesting off, so I sighed in defeat.

It was the least I could do.

After all, he was part of the crew who so badly wanted me in.

“You sure?”

“Positive, babe,” he replied, standing and heading towards the door, walking out to his red 1978 Ford F-150 Ranger to wait for me to follow.

He was quiet on the drive to the graveyard across town, but I noticed his attitude lift once we got there and we’d sat on the grass.

He told me stories about when they were in high school, laughing at the silly things she did that always made him smile.

I left him alone with his thoughts when he started talking to the headstone, trying to hide his tears as emotion took control of him.

One thing I’d learned about guys was that they liked to keep their emotions private to avoid appearing weak.

I personally thought it took more strength to show emotion, but I wanted him to mourn in peace.

I lit a cigarette and leaned against his pickup, relaxing as I became surrounded by the quiet of the night as I smoked.