“I don’t want you to quit, Harley. That’s not what this conversation is about. I’m not going to sideline you completely, but I want to move you to Team C with Grinch, instead of with the entry team.”
Team A is led by Hound, and they’re always the first ones inside when we raid. Those guys take the most risk, and I consider it a great honor to be on the entry team just like my dad.
“So I’m not going to be stuck at the command center?”
“Of course not,” Kincaid says. “You’re a valuable member of the team, but I’ve already lost Lana under my watch. I can’t be the reason Aria loses both her parents.”
His consideration for my safety says a lot, considering Hound is his son-in-law and the father of several of his grandkids.
“Lana’s death was an accident,” I find myself saying. “It wasn’t your fault.”
If anything, it was mine for being excited about the project she was working on and not insisting she ride to the clubhouse with Aria and me when I left earlier in the day.
“Every single one of you are my responsibility,” he says, and I feel the weight of his words.
I also feel the pain he’s suffering at her loss.
Since the accident, I’ve felt alone in my grief. Despite the kind words that have been spoken to me, I feel all alone.
I realize I haven’t been. Those around me have suffered as well, and I’ve ignored that pain, needing it all for myself out of guilt.
“Thank you,” I whisper, somehow giving him some of my burden.
My shoulders feel noticeably lighter, immediately. If we’re all hurting, then I don’t have to shoulder it all alone.
“You may not want to hear it right now, and the thought may not have crossed your mind yet, but you’ll get through this, Harley. Eventually, you’ll be able to wake up in the morning and not feel like you’re being crushed with grief.”
My first instinct is to argue with him and demand to know how he can assume anything, but then I remember my dad mentioning that his mother was murdered by his father when he was young, so the man knows grief well.
I can’t tell him that I’ve been woken up by Ali clattering around in the kitchen and the first thing I feel is a smile coming over my face at the idea of her looking rumpled and a little agitated that she always forgets to set the timer on the machine the night before.
I didn’t wake up feeling crushed with grief those days, but the guilt of not feeling it wasn’t too far behind.
“When is that okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“When is it okay to not feel the grief?”
A long silence fills the line as he ponders my question.
“There’s no timeline, Harley. When those days happen, just run with it. Lana would want you to be happy.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she loved you so fiercely. Because she’d never want you to be in pain. I know because I want the same thing for Em when it’s my time.”
My time implies that it was Lana’s time, and that’s the hardest thing for me to accept. I understand she’s gone. That’s a fact I’m slapped in the face with every day I wake up alone, but six months ago being her time is what kills me. No one’s time should be so young. No one’s time should come when they still have a child to raise and a spouse to love.
“Even if that means she’ll move on with someone else?” I expect a growl in response because the man is the ultimate when it comes to possessiveness even after over twenty years of marriage to Em, but he only chuckles.
“I want her to be loved, and if that means it comes from someone else because I’m not here to do it, then yes, even then.”
“I take it you’re feeling guilt for… feeling?”
The man doesn’t come out and mention Ali, but I can only imagine that’s what he’s referring to.
I dig another rock out of the soil at my feet and throw it across the lake, watching it skitter once again before responding.
“I can’t get past the guilt.”
“Then maybe it isn’t time.”
“It’s not,” I assure him.
“Hate to cut such an important conversation short, but I’ve got to get the dossiers for the job printed for you guys.”
“When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“See you at the clubhouse,” I tell him before ending the call.
Chapter 17
Alyssa
“Sorry,” I mutter as I step to the side to avoid a collision with Harley in the hallway.
He mumbles something under his breath that I can’t decipher as he rushes past me again.
I stand in the kitchen, waiting for him to come back out of his bedroom.
He mentioned last night when he got back that he was heading out for work, and maybe it should bother me that he assumes I’m okay with taking care of Aria for the time he’s gone, but it doesn’t. If anything, I’ll be grateful for the space that his absence will allow.