Page 94 of Slaughter
I had been terrified the first time Chapman brought me here.
Two months had passed since we left Oklahoma. Two months since I had said goodbye to Faith and my sisters and climbed into that truck with my heart breaking and my future uncertain. Two months since I arrived in Tennessee, not knowing what to expect, who I would become, or whether I’d made the right choice. But sitting here now, with Aurorababbling happily beside me and the sun warming my skin, I knew with absolute certainty that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“I wanted to come talk to you,” I continued, reaching out to brush a fallen leaf from the base of Julie’s headstone. “I know that probably sounds strange. Chapman talks to you all the time. He brings Aurora every week, sits right here, and tells you about everything that’s happening. But I’ve never... I didn’t know if I had the right.”
Aurora let out a squeal of delight, her tiny hands finally catching hold of her foot. She pulled it toward her mouth with single-minded determination, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“She’s so beautiful, Julie,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “She has your eyes. Chapman told me that. He says when she looks at him, it’s like you’re looking at him too. And her smile... God, when she smiles, it lights up the entire room. She’s happy. So happy. And I wanted you to know that.”
I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I watched Aurora explore her own body with the wonder only a baby could have.
“I was so scared when we first got here,” I admitted. “I didn’t know what to expect from the club. I grew up hearing stories about the Golden Skulls, about the violence, the darkness, the things they did in the shadows. My brothers left because they couldn’t reconcile that life with the families they wanted to build. And I thought... I thought Tennessee would be the same. Maybe worse, because this is where it all started.”
I paused, shaking my head at my own foolishness.
“But it’s not like that at all. The Tennessee Chapter is... they’re laid back. Welcoming. The first night we arrived, Stella and Digger threw a barbecue to introduce me to everyone, and I swear half the town showed up. They didn’t treat me like anoutsider or some obligation Chapman had dragged home. They treated me like family. Like I had always belonged there.”
Aurora’s babbling grew louder, and I reached over to tickle her belly gently. She kicked her legs harder, her face breaking into a gummy smile that made my heart swell.
“Jessica’s been incredible,” I continued, my gaze drifting back to the headstone. “She’s been teaching me how to take care of Aurora. All the little things Chapman doesn’t know because he wasn’t there for the first few months. How to read her cries, what her different sounds mean, the way she likes to be held when she’s fussy. She’s patient with me, even when I mess up. And she talks about you all the time. Everyone tells me stories about when you and Chapman were young, about the kind of person you were.”
I swallowed hard, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
“Everyone loved you so much, Julie. They all did. And I think... I think that’s why they’ve been so kind to me. Because they see how much Chapman loves me, and they want him to be happy. They want Aurora to have a mother who loves her. And they’re giving me the space to become that person without making me feel like I have to replace you.”
The wind picked up slightly, rustling the leaves overhead and carrying the distant sound of birdsong. Aurora’s eyes tracked a butterfly that fluttered past, her entire body going still with fascination.
“I didn’t expect to fall in love with her so quickly,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “I thought it would take time, that I would have to work at it, force myself to bond with her because she’s Chapman’s daughter. But the first time Jessica put her in my arms, the first time she looked up at me with those big eyes and wrapped her tiny hand around my finger... I was gone. Completely gone.”
I reached over and stroked Aurora’s soft hair, marveling at how something so small could hold so much of my heart.
“She’s started sleeping through the night,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Well, mostly. She still wakes up once around three in the morning, but Chapman usually gets to her before I do. He’s... he’s such a good father, Julie. I know he doesn’t think so. I know he still carries guilt about leaving her during those first few months. But he’sthere. Every night, every morning, every moment he’s not working. He changes her diapers and gives her bottles, and reads to her, even though she’s too young to understand the words. He’s trying so hard to be the father she deserves.”
Aurora let out a happy shriek, and I laughed softly, wiping at the tears that had started to fall.
“And he’s a good husband,” I added quietly. “I know you know that already. You were married to him for years. But I wanted to tell you anyway. He’s gentle with me. Patient. He doesn’t push me to be someone I’m not, and he doesn’t expect me to fill the hole you left behind. He just... loves me. For who I am. Broken pieces and all.”
I paused, my gaze fixing on the dates carved into the headstone. Julie had been so young when she died. Twenty-eight. The same age I was now.
“I’m not trying to replace you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to know that. I could never replace you, and I wouldn’t want to. You were his first love. His high school sweetheart. The mother of his child. You’ll always be a part of him, and I’m okay with that. Iwantthat. Because loving you made him the man I fell in love with.”
Aurora started to fuss, her little face scrunching up in displeasure. I scooped her up and settled her against my chest, rocking her gently as she nuzzled into my shoulder.
“But I promise you,” I continued, my voice stronger now, “I will love them both. With everything I have. I’ll watch over them and protect them and be there for them always. I’ll make sure Aurora knows who you were. That she grows up hearing stories about her mama, about how much you loved her, about the sacrifice you made to bring her into this world. And I’ll make sure Chapman never forgets that you were his first great love, even as he builds a new life with me.”
Aurora’s fussing quieted, and she let out a soft sigh against my neck. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in that sweet baby smell that I had come to associate with home.
“I’ll teach her to bake,” I said, a watery smile crossing my face. “Even though I’m terrible at it. Chapman says you were an amazing cook, so maybe she’ll inherit that from you instead of me. And I’ll take her to the farmers’ market and teach her about plants and herbs, and all the things Faith taught me. I’ll make sure she knows she’s loved, not just by Chapman and me, but by everyone. By Jessica and Savage and Digger and Stella and all the brothers who’ve already claimed her as their own.”
The sun shifted slightly, casting dappled shadows across the blanket. Aurora’s eyes were starting to droop, her tiny body growing heavy against me as sleep began to claim her.
“I talk to Faith every day,” I said softly. “She asks about you sometimes. About whether I’ve visited your grave, whether I’ve made peace with everything that happened. And I tell her the truth: that I’m trying. That it’s hard loving a man who’s still grieving his wife, but that it’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. Because his grief means he knows how to love deeply. Completely. Without reservation.”
I shifted Aurora slightly, cradling her more securely as her breathing evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep.
“The clubhouse is nothing like I expected,” I continued, my voice taking on a lighter tone. “It’s huge, this sprawling logcabin with a main building and smaller cabins scattered around the property. Chapman and I have our own place, a little cabin near the back with a porch that overlooks the mountains. He built it himself years ago, back when he and Ravage first started the construction business. He says he always imagined raising a family there, and now... now we are.”
I glanced down at Aurora’s sleeping face, my heart squeezing with an almost painful tenderness.
