Later that night at Claire’s, I’d asked Malcolm what happened.
“Was he born that way?” I asked him. “Does he use sign language?”
“Don’t know, you’ll have to ask him. But he reads lips, Sky, so you have to be looking at him when you talk, even if you put your head down, he’ll lose the conversation. Be good practice for you, seeing you look down a lot.”
I nodded that I understood and remembered what it felt like when he took me in with his intense gaze—like he was reading all of me, not just the words falling from my lips.
And now here I was again, on the most special day, feeling his gaze coupled with his approval of my achievement felt exhilarating, especially when I wasn’t able to look away.
“I, uh, brought you this, Sky. It’s not much, but I wanted to give you something.”
He handed me a white box tied with a black cloth ribbon.
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Patriot. That was really sweet.” I could feel heat rising to my face and I was suddenly aware of my own heartbeat.
“Don’t open it here, maybe it’s better when you’re at home. I’ve got to head out anyway, but I’m glad I got to see this.” His big hand closed over mine that was holding the box.
“I’m glad you came,” I told him. I was. He stared at my lips even after I’d stopped talking.
Then he turned abruptly without any goodbyes to the crew. He strode over to his bike and I watched him put on his sunglasses and helmet. The wind picked up and whipped my hair around my face and made my dress cling tightly to my frame as the fabric rippled in the wind.
Patriot drove away and I looked down and opened the pretty box. Inside was a small oval locket in gold with two song birds engraved on the front. When I clicked it open, just a tiny black mustard seed popped out and rolled into the palm of my hand. I stared at it there, thankful it hadn’t gone into the grass.
“What’s that, Skye?” Claire asked, coming up behind me. “We should grab your stuff and head over to the shelter for the party.”
I tucked the seed back into the little oval and clicked it closed.
“Will you put this on me, Mom?” I asked Claire.
She undid the clasp and I held up my hair while she put it around my neck.
“It’s delicate and beautiful, just like you, Sky. Looks vintage. Was that a gift from one of the guys?”
“Patriot gave it to me. He didn’t say where it came from.”
“Oh, he’s a good kid. That was really thoughtful of him.”
“It had a mustard seed inside.”
“How sweet. That’s from the bible, I think.”
“What does it mean?”
“Gosh, you’re gonna test me right now, sweetie? Let’s see, if I remember correctly, it’s from a parable, something about humble beginnings and the power of faith to move mountains. Like no matter how small the beginnings, you can do great things—which in my opinion, is a perfect sentiment for what you’ve accomplished here today.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you. And Malcolm, too. You can both have some credit,” I said as I fingered the golden charm. I wondered if Patriot had put the tiny seed in himself or whether or not he even knew it was there.
“We both love you, Skylar. There’s no doubt in my mind that you will do great things.”
“If you guys want to give me a graduation gift, you could stop pretending to be mad at each other and just, I don’t know, get back together or something.”
Claire clucked her tongue and guided me back toward the crowd with her arm across my shoulder. I reached up and touched the locket, and assured myself that no matter what the future brought, I’d be okay. I was surrounded by people who cared about me and thanks to Claire and Malcolm, the Valor Club and the shelter, I’d built my own family. I had a whole circle of people who loved and protected me. But despite this happy realization, I still felt a pull on my heartstrings. I wanted Patriot to feel this happiness too. I wasn’t sure what it was that happened whenever he was near, but like the mustard seed, I wanted it to grow. Patriot didn’t say much, but my heart heard him loud and clear.
Chapter 1
Patriot
When a bone fractures, it makes a cracking noise, while a sprain will sound like popping or grinding. That's how I knew that I'd fractured his jaw, from the sound it made under the pressure of my fist. His body fell limp in my grip, blood flowing from his nose as his pathetic eyes begged me to stop. He was too weak to actually ask for mercy, not like the girl who’d told him to fuck off six times. “Sucks when people don’t listen to you, doesn’t it?” This was one of my favorite parts of being a full member. I no longer was sent in for clean-up, now I was able to dispense justice. When I joined the MC, I never set out to be a hitman or be the go-to guy for exacting revenge. I knew without a doubt that I had a killer instinct, that an unfathomable ruthlessness lived deep inside of me. I kept it at bay the very best I could, but joining the Valor gave me a natural out. The scum my hate was directed at became my prey. And I could exhaust the violence by using it for poetic justice, for the weak and the young and the purely innocent who couldn’t stand up for themselves. I honed my anger into a tool for the Valor and I became a silent killer who took out the most sadistic of criminals.