Legacy

Chapter 2

Laura

"Aren't you happy to be home?" Sniper smirked as he opened the house door.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm starting to think you only brought me back to make you not feel so lonely in this house."

He grinned, something I hadn't seen him do often. "Oh, Laura, how do is it you're always able to see through me?"

"But it is good to be home again," I breathed, as we stepped into the dark house. I could barely see anything, but I knew better than to switch on any lights. "Didn't realise how much I missed it."

"We missed you too," he grumbled, nudging me with his shoulder. "I've set up the guest room upstairs for you. It's got an adjoining bathroom."

I smiled at him as a silent thank you, knowing that even if I could barely see him, he could see me. That man had the night vision of an owl. "Did you see Kyle's face when I arrived?"

Sniper snorted. "Kid looked like he'd won the fucking lottery. He wasn't the only one who looked like that though. I don't think you realise what a difference it was to no longer have you around, Laura. A lot of brothers were missing you while you were gone. You were at this club house so often, it was like removing an essential when you left."

We'd moved to the kitchen now, where we sat at a small wooden table, munching on some chips. I had to pat around in the darkness to even find the bag. "Hey, you were the one to encourage me to leave."

"And it was probably the best damn decision I've ever made. You look better. Are you feeling it too?" He asked softly.

I exhaled deeply. "A lot. I can actually sleep through the night mostly. There are some nights where," I paused, thinking of how I could phrase it, "where I can't stop myself from thinking about it. Those are the sleepless nights. But not as bad as it used to be."

I saw his silhouette nod. "It's good that you're getting better. It'll still take a while, maybe you'll never be fully okay again, but I know you'll get better."

We talked a while longer before we made our way to bed; he downstairs next to the kitchen and I upstairs above the front porch. Only when I was safely in my room with the door shut did I switch on my light. It still freaked Sniper out when bright lights were turned on at night, the intense contrast between the brightness and darkness sending him spiralling into flashbacks from his time in Afghanistan. The lights blinded me for a few seconds, so I had to feel around my room until I found the bathroom.

Inside, I stripped off my clothes and chucked them in the hamper. Walking back out to my bedroom in nothing but a bra and underwear, I opened my suitcases and began unpacking. The rest of my things would be coming soon, as Castillo had promised me he would have a few of his men drop them off, along with my car.

I pulled out an old family photograph of a little four-year old me with my brother when he was seven years old, and our father. I smiled at the memory and placed it safely on my bed stand. It wasn't until recently that I could look at photos of my father without the memory of his deceased body tainting my mind. Now I couldn't stop looking at them, missing his smile and warm embraces.

My father had been a big man, not only physically but also figuratively. He had been well known in along the West Coast by most biker clubs, for his gentle, but stern rule. He cleared our town, Rickson, a small town near San Diego, of almost all drug dealers to make room for Castillo. They had had a peculiar, but strong relationship. Somehow, they had gotten into business with each other, Castillo needing my father to receive and transport his drugs and my dad needing his guns and protection. It had been a win-win situation for the two, and from there on they developed a friendship that lasted almost three decades. They had sealed their relationship and business alliance when my father named Castillo my godfather.