Chapter 3 ✦ʚ♡ɞ✦

Wayne had managed to make our first argument happen before either of us had agreed to his trip.

Brick’s VP patch sat on Knox’s desk between us like a dare.

Maeve was still by the door. Knox had not moved. Brick looked as if he had already mentally left the building.

I opened the leather folder.

“Before anybody sacrifices a promotion over this,” I began, “I want to see exactly what Wayne wrote.”

Brick folded his arms. “You think the paperwork changes anything?”

I looked down at the first page. “I think Wayne was a man who could turn one sentence into six pages of instructions, so yes.”

Maeve covered a smile with two fingers.

Knox gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Sit. We’ll go through it.”

I took the chair.

Brick remained standing.

That tracked.

I slid Wayne’s instructions free and found the page the executor had tabbed in blue. I had read it before, but grief had made the language blur at the time. I had been too busy handling death certificates, closing accounts, canceling appointments, returning medical equipment, and discovering that even dying did not stop Wayne from organizing my life.

I read the paragraph again.

One representative of the Devil’s Crown Motorcycle Club shall accompany Serena Parton for the duration of the route described herein and shall witness the dispersal at designated locations identified in the attached schedule.

I looked up. “He really did write it that way.”

Knox nodded. “That’s the language Harlan reviewed.”

I tipped my head. “Harlan being?”

Knox leaned against the desk. “Our attorney. He handled some of Wayne’s estate coordination with your executor.”

I tapped the paragraph. “And nobody thought to question why my dead husband was appointing a motorcycle club chaperone?”

Brick’s mouth twitched, though there was nothing friendly in it. “Maybe he knew you’d try to ignore half his instructions.”

I turned toward him. “You have known me for approximately four minutes.”

Brick’s expression barely shifted. “Wayne knew you longer.”

I held his gaze. “That does not magically make you an expert.”

Brick’s gaze sharpened. “Never claimed to be.”

Knox stepped between the conversation before it could become something larger. “Wayne gave reasons.”

I faced him again. “I’d love to hear them.”

Knox reached for another page in the folder and turned it around so I could see Wayne’s handwriting beneath a typed addendum.

I knew that handwriting.

Blocky. Slanted slightly right. Pressed hard enough to leave dents in the page below.

I read silently.

Serena will try to do this alone if she can. Don’t let her.

I shut my eyes.

I muttered, “Of course.”

Maeve shifted closer. “That sounds affectionate when you know nothing about the marriage.”

I opened my eyes. “It was affectionate. That was part of the problem.”

Nobody responded immediately.

Brick’s posture changed by a fraction.

I looked back at Wayne’s note.

I tapped Wayne’s note with one finger. “He always thought keeping me from doing something alone was the same as helping.”

Knox nodded toward the folder. “The rest explains the club’s role.”

I turned the page.

The itinerary was divided into sections. Seven primary stops. Three smaller locations. Dates were suggested rather than mandatory, which was more flexibility than Wayne usually allowed himself while alive.

Each location had a sealed envelope number.

Each ashes container had a matching label.

The practical part of me appreciated the organization.

The rest of me wanted to throw the entire binder into the nearest fireplace.

I traced the list with one finger. “He separated the ashes?”

Knox nodded. “The executor confirmed it.”

I stared at the route.

Nevada. Utah. Colorado. Kansas. Missouri. Tennessee. North Carolina. Virginia. Then farther east before circling back.

Thousands of miles.

Wayne had apparently decided that death should come with mileage.

Brick traced the route with one finger. “That’s weeks.”

“At least,” I agreed.

Brick looked toward Knox. “And you think I’m leaving Crown territory that long right after taking VP.”

Knox’s expression did not change. “I think Wayne spent years keeping you alive before he left.”

Brick’s face closed.

There it was again.

Not just anger at the inconvenience.

Something older.

I looked between them. “How close were you?”

Brick answered without looking at me. “Doesn’t matter.”

I kept my attention on Brick. “It matters if I’m supposed to spend several weeks in a truck with you because Wayne wanted somebody from his old life present.”

Brick finally turned. “You don’t know what Wayne wanted from me.”

I kept my voice even. “Neither do you, apparently.”

That landed badly.

Maeve murmured my name. “Serena.”

I held Brick’s stare. “I’m not trying to be cruel. I’m trying to understand why this is happening.”

Brick unfolded his arms, but he did not move closer. “He left.”

The simplicity of it made me pause.

Brick continued before I could respond. “He turned in his patch, married you, and disappeared. So if you’re trying to figure out why I’m not thrilled he found one last job for the Crown after all these years, start there.”

The anger was aimed at Wayne.

Some of it had simply splashed onto me.

That was useful information.

I looked down at Wayne’s route. “I didn’t know.”

Brick gave a short shrug. “Now you do.”

I believed him.

Wayne had told me almost nothing about the people he left behind. He had described Devil’s Crown as a chapter he had closed for good. I had assumed that meant he wanted distance from the club.

I had never considered that distance had people on the other side of it.

Knox reached into the folder and lifted a smaller envelope. “This was sealed separately.”

My name was not on it.

Brick’s was.

BRICK HEMMINGWAY.

The handwriting was Wayne’s.

Brick stopped moving.

I looked from the envelope to him.

Knox held it out. “Wayne left this with the estate documents. Instructions were that you receive it when Serena began the trip.”

Brick did not take it.

For the first time since I walked into the clubhouse, he looked less angry than caught off guard.

I picked up the envelope carefully and held it toward him.

I held the envelope toward Brick. “This belongs to you.”

Brick stared at Wayne’s handwriting.

Then his gaze lifted to mine.

Brick’s response came flat and immediate. “No.”

I kept my hand extended. “You don’t even know what it says.”

Brick stepped back. “I don’t care.”

The lie was obvious enough that I did not challenge it.

I lowered the envelope.

Knox rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Brick.”

Brick looked at the folder in my lap. “You can keep the letter. You can keep the route. You can scatter Wayne wherever he wanted.”

His eyes dropped once to the folder in my lap.

Brick moved toward the door. “I’m not going.”