Circle of Death by Celia Loren, Colleen Masters Page B

apart from you, miss out on so much of your life—”
    “Then why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” I cut her off, brushing my angry tears away. “Why didn’t you call, or write, or anything, Juliet? We were so close when we were little. You were my hero. And you abandoned me. Left me to deal with Mom and Dad on my own. Left me without my best friend.”
    “If there had been any other way, I would have taken it,” Juliet says urgently, grabbing onto my hands. “But you have to understand, Logan—I had no other choice. I was miserable in that town. In that house. With all of Mom’s rules, her standards, her impossible expectations...I was so depressed, so convinced that I was worthless. Because in her eyes, I was. When I found the motorcycle club, I found acceptance for the first time in my life. No one was trying to change me, force me to be something I wasn’t. The guys accepted me for exactly who I was, and took me in without a second thought. They loved me.”
    “But I loved you too,” I whisper, squeezing my sister’s hand. “I loved you more than anyone in the world. Why wasn’t that enough?”
    “You’ll see one day,” she smiles sadly, “When you meet someone who understands you, accepts you fully, makes you feel like you’re the most incredible, gorgeous, irreplaceable person on the planet...you won’t be able to live without him either.”
    Devlin’s face flashes before my eyes at Juliet’s words. His understanding, his insistence of my value and worth...is that the kind of acceptance she’s talking about?
    “Is that what the whole Circle of Death family gave you?” I ask softly.
    “Well, one member in particular,” Juliet smiles, sensing my heart warming to her at last. “His name is Packer. The second I started hanging around with the MC, we paired off. There was never any question. He was the first person who just got me, knew what I wanted, what I needed. Just like that. We’ve been together for years, now.”
    “So, this Packer. He’s your boyfriend, or...?” I ask, totally unversed in MC terminology as I am. “Sorry, I don’t really know how these things work in your world. I barely even know how dating and shit works in my world.”
    “Actually,” Juliet says, taking a deep breath, “Boyfriends and girlfriends aren’t really a thing in the MC life. Most girls who hang around the club are just sweet butts. Like groupies, almost. Any of the guys can sleep with them, party with them, whatever. But if a brother wants to make a girl his own, she becomes his old lady. That means she’s off limits to anyone else. It’s like being a wife, in club terms. And sometimes old ladies become actual wives, too.”
    “Wait. Are you...Packer’s actual wife?” I ask, my eyes going wide.
    Juliet turns her back to me, and I see the words scrawling across the back of her cut: Property of Packer.
    “I am,” she smiles, turning back to face me.
    “You’re married?” I ask again, taking a step away from her.
    “What’s wrong?” she asks, “I thought you’d be happy about it. It’s such a normal, real-life thing to do—”
    “You got married without me there. I wasn’t at your wedding,” I cut her off.
    “Well, no...” she allows.
    “But we pinky swore that we’d be each other’s maids of honor,” I blurt out, knowing full well that I sound like a ten year old. “We were going to pick out our dresses together, and throw surprise bridal showers...I mean, I wouldn’t want any of that pink, frilly shit now either, but you didn’t even let me know your wedding was happening!”
    “If it makes you feel any better, no one was there except for the justice of the peace and a couple of witnesses,” she says. “You didn’t miss much.”
    I don’t even know what to say. I have so many questions about Juliet’s life over the past six years. But even if we had much longer than a week to catch up, I’m afraid that the rift between us is just too vast to traverse.