pictures of birthdays, parties, cookouts, the opening of Ankhor Works, the opening of Stella’s, baby pictures of Raven, and now of Grace.
And, of course, photos of Ankh.
There was a copy of one of my favorite photos, too, of Ankh and me standing outside Ballast when we’d first opened it, with our arms slung around each other, both mid-laugh. Like we couldn’t contain our joy. That’s how we’d felt, too—I remembered it vividly. Opening Ballast had been a dream come true.
God, I missed his laugh.
The twinge of loneliness crawled into my throat and tightened into a knot. I pulled the photo off the fridge and smoothed my thumb over the edge.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked the photo. “God, Ankh. I miss you so much.” I laughed a little to myself as I rubbed at my eyes, suddenly prickling with familiar tears. “I’m doing—doing as well as I can be without you, but God, I could really use your advice.”
I missed his voice, his smile, his embrace. And moments like this, when I felt lost or confused, were when I missed him the most. My brothers-in-arms in the club seemed to think that I was the one with all the answers these days—and I was happy to help them whenever I could. But I lacked the same drive Ankh had, that inner fire that pushed the club forward. That same fire Blade had.
I did the best I could, and I tried to live up to the way the members talked about me—the heart of the club, it still made me smile to remember it—but I didn’t have all the answers. Ankh had always been my partner in moments like this, and we’d work together to find solutions, or just untangle my confusing emotions.
He’d been my home for more than half my life. And now this cabin, as gorgeous as it was, felt like something was missing.
But this was just part of the grieving process. I had moments like this—whole days like it, too. Some days were just harder than others. And today, despite the pang of grief, was still better than lots of other days I’d had before.
I cleared my throat and put the photo back on the fridge. I knew one thing Ankh would tell me now—to stop moping alone at home and go lean on the rest of the club. If there was a guaranteed way to boost my mood, it was a little bit of early morning chaos at the clubhouse.
I finished my coffee, then strolled down the short path between the cabin and the clubhouse. Even though it was still early, a handful of members were awake and starting their day in the big kitchen: Raven, Jazz, and Joker were all up and, thankfully, quiet.
“Morning, Priest,” Joker said brightly. “Had your coffee already?”
“Of course,” I said. “Wouldn’t say no to another cup, though.”
Which was why we had the industrial-sized coffeemaker in the clubhouse. Joker nodded knowingly and poured me a cup.
“How’s the new place, Pop?” Raven asked from where he was booting up his laptop at the big communal table.
Despite the early hour, he looked especially bright-eyed, blue eyes gleaming. Maybe it was because I was already primed to ache today, but he looked so much like Ankh, it made my heart hurt. Mostly knowing that Ankh would be so proud of how he’d grown up, and what an important role he’d taken on in the club.
“It’s amazing,” I said. “I sleep like a baby, finally.” I shot a smirk at Jazz. “No noisy neighbors keeping me up.”
“What!” Jazz said, faux-scandalized with a hand on his chest. “And with all the money I spent on that gag—”
“Too early,” Raven interrupted. “Let me have another coffee before you start with the ball gag jokes.”
“I never said ball gag,” Jazz noted.
“I’m interested in hearing more, actually,” Joker teased.
I rolled my eyes fondly. That was a major benefit of having the cabin, though—no more waking up to the telltale signs of a bedframe knocking against the wall on both sides. As happy as I was that the members were finding love, it had started making me feel a little like I was living in a frat house.
“Put it in the minutes for the next church meeting,” I said. “Club funds to spend on ball gags.”
Joker barked a laugh, and Jazz grinned as well. “For today’s meeting?” Jazz asked. “Thought that was head honchos only.”
“Only the most important business,” I agreed seriously, which set Joker laughing again.