“I heard you had left town. Broke up with Cade after he cheated on you. Took off and became a fancy doctor,” she said. “I thought, good for her. She got out. She got away. She broke a Calley heart.” Her eyes flashed with pathetic delight at the idea. Then, they narrowed and she took a step toward me, shaking her head with judgmental disbelief. “Yet here the fuck you are, a fancy-assed doctor picking up trash at a biker funeral.”
I dropped the garbage bag at her feet and straightened. “Have you got something you want to say to me, Peggy?”
She scoffed and sucked on her cigarette again.
“Just that it is a real shame. A beauty like you, getting sucked in by a Calley. He’s cheated on you once before, Indy. Mark my words, that boy will cheat on you again.”
“That was a long time ago when we were just kids. Cade isn’t like that.”
She sneered. “Don’t kid yourself, young lady. They’re all like that. Every single one of them.”
I focused on the small scar under her right eye—it was courtesy of Ronnie Calley. I wasn’t the only one who had seen Peggy and Garrett on the washing machine that day.
“I think we’ll be just fine,” I said.
She snickered and ashed her cigarette. “It doesn’t work out for the women of the MC. Look at your mom. Look at Ronnie. Cherry. Did it work out for them?”
“You left.” I took a step closer and looked her up and down. “Did it work out for you?”
For once, Peggy was speechless.
I saw no point hanging around any longer.
“Like I said, I’m sorry about Isaac,” I said.
As I began to walk off, she called out. “It’s only a matter of time, Indy. He’ll break your heart. Those Calley boys always do.”
I didn’t stop. I kept walking and disappeared inside where I continued to clean up. Peggy Calley was a spiteful, resentful, selfish woman. I wasn’t going to let her words get to me, even if they were the echo of my own thoughts only a few weeks ago.
“You okay?”
I swung around at the voice. Chance Calley sat on a couch in the corner of the room, strumming a guitar. Seeing him brought a sudden rush of tears to my eyes.
“Chance!”
He stood up and pulled me into a big hug. I held on tight. Suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions of the day, and because seeing him again after all these years was so nice.
Letting him go, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d always adored Chance. Growing up I always figured he was going to be a rock star because he was permanently attached to his guitar. In high school he could have any girl he wanted. Good looking. Charismatic. A talented guitarist. He’d surprised the hell out of everyone when he’d signed up for the Navy soon after graduation.
“I’m as good as I’m going to be, I guess,” I replied. We sat down. “How are you?”
The years had done little to lessen his good looks, but he looked hardened—a little frayed around the edges. I knew being a Navy SEAL meant he was tough and fearless. But I didn’t really know what it involved. Only that he saw a fair bit of action overseas.
He held up a glass of liquor from the table beside him. “Ask me after a few more of these.” He tried to smile but his attempt was weak.
Across the room, Chastity Calley sat with her mom and Grandma Sybil. At nineteen, she was a wild beauty. Lashings of raven black hair fell around a porcelain white face that was pale in its beauty, and tumbled over her shoulders to her slender waist. Her large eyes, the same resplendent bright blue of her brothers and mother, were almond shaped and fringed with long, dark lashes. At the funeral, she’d sobbed into Caleb’s shoulder. Isaac had been more like a brother than her cousin.
I turned back to Chance. “Did you make it to the funeral?”
I didn’t see him at the church or the cemetery. But if he’d arrived late I could’ve missed him.
“Everyone was leaving when I arrived. I took four different flights to get here and not one of them left on time. I missed the service, but I got to say my goodbyes. I hung back with Caleb and Bull. Paid my respects.” He took a mouthful of his drink, which smelled like whiskey. “I saw Cade ride off. Have you heard from him?”
I shook my head. “He needs time.”
“Yeah, he does. He’s not like you and me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a trauma doctor now, right?” When I nodded, he put his guitar down. “We both stare down death every day. We watch it take those around us, indiscriminately. It teaches you a good appreciation of just how fucking fragile life really is, but at the same time, it almost anesthetises you.”