If I Should Die: A Kimber S. Dawn MC Novel by Kimber S. Dawn Page A
Authors: Kimber S. Dawn
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can’t explain what happened to it in the first place, what happened to that feeling of knowing you belong to a family. It was just there one day—and then it wasn’t. Nothing happened. There wasn’t any one thing I did wrong or bad, I just thought I belonged to a family one day. And the next day, I didn’t.
When Eden pulls away, she blinks and I see the only difference between us most people would miss. Especially these days. I comb my fingers through her hair as her blue eyes smile into my brown ones, and I sift a handful of it out to the side and match it to mine, “When did you do this? I like it.” I chuckle around the tears and snot.
After she does the same, she grabs some Kleenex from her purse and hands me one before wiping her own tears away. “I didn’t. When I hit puberty it turned dark. Like yours and Mom’s, I guess.” She shrugs. “Did you know the night you ran away? The night before you got caught at the train station, I’d run away to Chicago? With my boyfriend at the time. We came to get you.” Her chuckle turns into a laugh, but not mine. I stop laughing all together. Mainly because the air in my chest has ceased to exist.
“You what?” I mouth. I don’t even think the words were actually spoken. And she just chuckles harder.
“Yup. Me and Ben. We’ve been on and off for… God. For forever. He’s supposed to be coming in town today, too.” She glances at her watch, but time, or its measure, is the furthest thing from importance.
“You came for me?” I whisper. And my heart, if it swells any more in this damn tight chest of mine, it’s gonna shatter its cage. “Why? Wait. Train station?” That part of her declaration filters and sticks, finally.
“Yeah. Train station. When we were fourteen.”
I shake my head. “But it was at the bus station. In New York. I was in New York,” I clarify. But she’s not getting it.
“Okay, then bus station. Whatever.” She stands from where we were sitting and pulls my hands until I’m standing too. “Come on. Let’s go find something to eat, or a souvenir shop.”
Unfortunately, the eleven months Eden lacks next to me and my years of differing life experiences keeps the remainder of our conversation pretty superficial. Consisting mostly of her, her friends, and her new school. And of course her soul mate, Bentley Cain.
I do hold my own, and mention Lauryn and Ty, and how Grams just took me to get my permit yesterday.
“Holy cow! That’s awesome! And you just have to have another driver in the car with a license, and it’s legal for you to drive? What if the other person is drunk off their ass?” She laughs, and I start to chuckle, thinking of Grams drunk.
“I guess. I don’t know.” We’re nearly in stitches when we round the corner and catch Grams standing over Ilsa, crying on the same bench we left them on over an hour ago.
When Ilsa looks up, I see tears in her eyes. “You need to tell her, Ilsa May Blakeney. If anyone deserves to know it’s her. Hell, he’s her daddy. Even if he does run the club down there. Unlike you, I don’t burn bridges. I keep in touch with at least some people from my past. Otherwise the past’ll bite ya on the ass.”
“Oh, shit,” Eden mutters as we step forward. When Grams looks over her shoulder at us she falls into step behind me. “Here goes.”
“No shit. Here goes,” I quietly whisper in response before leading the way back to the adults.
***
I know a bad idea when I’m presented with one, and now after the time I spent being punished for mentally saying fuck it when faced with a bad idea—Well, now it’s no one’s damn fault but my own.
When Eden mentioned it to L and Ty, a few hours after an awkward supper with Grams and Mom while we shared a cigarette outside of Ty’s, waiting for him to finish supper and come outside—I knew it was a bad idea. How, you may ask? Because the damn hair on my neck and arms stood up.
I flicked the cigarette L and I were puffing on
When Eden pulls away, she blinks and I see the only difference between us most people would miss. Especially these days. I comb my fingers through her hair as her blue eyes smile into my brown ones, and I sift a handful of it out to the side and match it to mine, “When did you do this? I like it.” I chuckle around the tears and snot.
After she does the same, she grabs some Kleenex from her purse and hands me one before wiping her own tears away. “I didn’t. When I hit puberty it turned dark. Like yours and Mom’s, I guess.” She shrugs. “Did you know the night you ran away? The night before you got caught at the train station, I’d run away to Chicago? With my boyfriend at the time. We came to get you.” Her chuckle turns into a laugh, but not mine. I stop laughing all together. Mainly because the air in my chest has ceased to exist.
“You what?” I mouth. I don’t even think the words were actually spoken. And she just chuckles harder.
“Yup. Me and Ben. We’ve been on and off for… God. For forever. He’s supposed to be coming in town today, too.” She glances at her watch, but time, or its measure, is the furthest thing from importance.
“You came for me?” I whisper. And my heart, if it swells any more in this damn tight chest of mine, it’s gonna shatter its cage. “Why? Wait. Train station?” That part of her declaration filters and sticks, finally.
“Yeah. Train station. When we were fourteen.”
I shake my head. “But it was at the bus station. In New York. I was in New York,” I clarify. But she’s not getting it.
“Okay, then bus station. Whatever.” She stands from where we were sitting and pulls my hands until I’m standing too. “Come on. Let’s go find something to eat, or a souvenir shop.”
Unfortunately, the eleven months Eden lacks next to me and my years of differing life experiences keeps the remainder of our conversation pretty superficial. Consisting mostly of her, her friends, and her new school. And of course her soul mate, Bentley Cain.
I do hold my own, and mention Lauryn and Ty, and how Grams just took me to get my permit yesterday.
“Holy cow! That’s awesome! And you just have to have another driver in the car with a license, and it’s legal for you to drive? What if the other person is drunk off their ass?” She laughs, and I start to chuckle, thinking of Grams drunk.
“I guess. I don’t know.” We’re nearly in stitches when we round the corner and catch Grams standing over Ilsa, crying on the same bench we left them on over an hour ago.
When Ilsa looks up, I see tears in her eyes. “You need to tell her, Ilsa May Blakeney. If anyone deserves to know it’s her. Hell, he’s her daddy. Even if he does run the club down there. Unlike you, I don’t burn bridges. I keep in touch with at least some people from my past. Otherwise the past’ll bite ya on the ass.”
“Oh, shit,” Eden mutters as we step forward. When Grams looks over her shoulder at us she falls into step behind me. “Here goes.”
“No shit. Here goes,” I quietly whisper in response before leading the way back to the adults.
***
I know a bad idea when I’m presented with one, and now after the time I spent being punished for mentally saying fuck it when faced with a bad idea—Well, now it’s no one’s damn fault but my own.
When Eden mentioned it to L and Ty, a few hours after an awkward supper with Grams and Mom while we shared a cigarette outside of Ty’s, waiting for him to finish supper and come outside—I knew it was a bad idea. How, you may ask? Because the damn hair on my neck and arms stood up.
I flicked the cigarette L and I were puffing on
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