The Biker's Rules

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A new grave

***POV - Melaena

I shift my legs into a more comfortable position where I sit on the freshly-planted green grass covering the small heap of the gravesite, and then I place the red flowers against the newly erected marble tombstone. A few tears roll down my cheek and I wipe them away anxiously with my hand. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so devastatingly sad losing someone you didn’t even truly know. Fudge-jackets, it’s so unfair. Hatred for Harry, for Darren, for Lucinda … for the whole fudge-upped family … boils through me.

I put my hand against the cold stone that’s now the only indication of the life that was lost and buried deep in the earth underneath. And for what? Revenge? Money? Power?

And in the end, Harry and his family ended up in graves themselves. What a loss of lives. And all the bloodshed and suffering was for nothing. It just caused more pain.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive them for everything they’ve taken from me, but in a way, I do feel sorry for Darren and Lucinda, having to live under the burden of revenge, never having normal lives. I may even understand Harry’s revenge, but it should have stopped with him killing Alexander and George. There’s no excuse for him ruining so many innocent lives, for making us suffer. A few tears fall softly onto the grass before I wipe my face again.

What is that saying about the sins of the fathers going over to the sons?

I sigh and take a deep breath. Then I take the letter from my pocket. I stare at my father’s handwriting – I remember it from my past. Our father gave Jackson a key to a safety deposit box and inside was his will (he left each of us a shitload of money), a few photos of mom and us, and then this letter - the truth about what happened years ago. I’d been holding it for a few days before I dared to read it. And since then, I’ve read it more than a few times, each time thinking how unfair life can be.

To my dear children,

I write this letter to explain what I couldn’t before, and I’m hoping that maybe after you’ve heard my side of the story, that one day you’ll be able to think of me as a loving father instead of as someone that abandoned his children for money. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an innocent victim, but rather the heir of circumstance.

The story is so outrageous that it’s hard to believe, but I promise you with my dying breath that it’s the truth. My father was not a good man. He got greedy and wanted everything for himself. John can explain to you about Alex and how he came into the world. It’s not a pretty story.

You must know that at that stage, neither John nor I knew about our father’s plans or about Alex’s existence. He grew up with the gang he was born with, prepped from a young age to be the heir he was born to be.

I was forced into the dark barbaric cut-throat part of the business, and I’m not sure if I’m a coward or a savior, but I truly believe that everything I did was because of love. Love for my family and love for my brother. I’m not saying this so you can pity me, you must understand that. Believe me, Alberto and I committed some horrific crimes for our fathers. Crimes that I could neither forgive myself for nor forget. Harry was by far not the only victim. I can only hope that my past won’t come to haunt you ever again.

There was a stage where I truly believed I could escape from that cruel world. But it was not meant to be. So the only way to get you out was to disappear, and it worked. I must tell you that both Garcia and I have been trying to right all our wrongs by doing good. Hopefully, it was enough to get me to where your mom is waiting.

I’m just glad that at least you have normal happy lives. I’ve been watching you all these years from the shadows. Going through every good and bad moment with you – either celebrating from a distance or crying in silence with you.

I’m going to give myself up to Harry since he went into Mel’s house last night. I don’t know what’s going to happen from here on, but I hope his hatred will stop with me. My cancer returned, so I don’t have long to live anyways. Maybe I will find peace at last while keeping you from harm.

So if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead … and hopefully you are all safe. All I want now is for you to have long happy lives, find love and always be there for each other. And make me loads and loads of grandchildren. Can you do that for me?

Lastly, I want you to know that I’ve loved you all my life.

Hopefully, you can forgive me someday … especially Jackson. Oh, and please lay my body next to my true love to rest. It’s time for us to be together again.




Now the tears mix with snot and I have to use my sleeve to wipe my face clean – sort off. I never knew my father and now I never will. For years I’ve blamed him, even hated him, and thought he was the worst person ever, but it turned out he was a hero and the one who sacrificed most of all.


Startled I jerk my head up. Any beeping sound still shakes me to my core after the two weeks in the hospital. Okay, it was a week ago, but still. At least the therapy Damion forced on me is helping a little. I’m slowly starting to cope with everything.

I struggle to take my phone from my bag with my left hand still in a cast. Turns out I fractured both my radius and ulna when the car crashed. The rest of my physical scars have healed more or less. The psychological ones will take a lot longer.

Damion: Happy Valentine’s day my angel. Let the hunt begin - backward.

What the hell? What is the man talking about? I love the guy, but sometimes I can still strangle his beautiful freaking neck. I drop the phone on the grass and cover my eyes with a groan. How can he even think about Valentine’s day at a time like this?

Beep-beep! Seriously … doesn’t he realize that I’m in mourning, that I need some time alone.

Damion: Come strangle my handsome neck.

Ug, now he’s just being a dick. How he does that is beyond me, but it doesn’t save his neck. The asshole is invading my prescribed resting time. I mean, he was there when the doctors ordered me to rest and take things slow.

“Hi, sorella.” I can’t help but smile hearing the voice of one of my most favorite people on earth. I swing my head back over my shoulder and watch him walk closer, his leg healed so much that he doesn’t need crutches anymore.

“I knew I’d find you here.” He falls onto the grass next to me and gives me a careful-not-to-hurt-you hug. I roll my eyes. Since I’ve been released from hospital everybody has been fussing over me as if I’m some kind of freaky porcelain doll that can break at any moment.

“So you were looking for me?”

He pulls a face as if I just caught him stealing the last cupcake from the party platter.

“Eh, yes … and I guessed you would be here. You’ve come here every day the past week.” He stares at the flowers.

“I couldn’t go to the funeral,” I say, “so it still feels a little unreal. I’m just trying to come to terms with it.”

He nods with apprehension and then something triggers my brain.

“Alejandro Russo Grimm, are you following me?” I hit his shoulder playfully with my non-broken hand.

“More like, sticking with my brother while he’s following you … “ he laughs softly, “the guy has got it bad. And you turned him into Ilkay, he’s worried now all the time. But I can’t blame him – what you experienced is not something any of us want to repeat again.”

“You can say that again.” I don’t need a reminder of the officially worst day of my life. Hearing your baby’s heartbeat fainting away is not something I wish upon my worst enemy. I shake my head as if to go get rid of the sad thoughts and look at the man sitting next to me.

“It’s valentines day … will you help me to get something for the asshole that holds my heart?” I give him a pleading puppy-dog look.

“Don’t look at me like that!” I keep on staring, trying to make the sad eyes even sadder until he gives in.

“Ug, this is gonna cost you, young lady.”

“Anything … I’ll do anything!”

“That’s a very dangerous thing to say to a guy,” he laughs and then winks at me. “I might just take you up on that offer sometime.” I roll my eyes and stick out my tongue at him.

“But first I need to give you this.” He holds out a white envelope and I take it with a frown. Another letter. The word ‘angel’ is written in thick black letters on the front. I turn it around and pull out the card inside.

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