With a heavy heart, Naomi closed the basement door. It is what it is. Now she had even more reason to finish the job as quickly as possible. She fastened the padlock to the handle of the door next to it—the one to the toilet—and tightened it so much that neither door could be opened. Just to be safe, she also barricaded the basement door with the small fridge from the utility room, which was only ever used when Foss threw a party. Back when he was in his last year of high school, it happened all the time, but it had been ages since then. His friends had all gone their separate ways. Except for Nash. Naomi felt a twinge of guilt for involving him, but he was such a loyal friend, he'd probably rather lock himself up than leave Foss there alone. She envied them. She'd give anything to have a friend like that. Someone who knew her inside out, who knew all her secrets, and stood by her through thick and thin.

Could Happy have been that friend, if she had trusted him back then? She pushed the thought aside. They'd been sixteen. What could he have done to change her situation? Nothing. Maybe things would have been different if she'd gone to him a few years later. But by then, the shame was already far too much to bear.

It was pointless to dwell on what could have been. She had to focus on the here and now. So she turned her back on the basement and left the house.

Her plan was painfully obvious. There was a good chance Happy would get suspicious, but she didn't have a better idea. It would be hard to just walk into the clubhouse and say she was feeling nostalgic after all these years. It was easier, almost more natural, to hide behind another lie.

A few hundred meters from the Sons of Anarchy property, she found an abandoned parking lot near a closed garden store. She parked her car far from the streetlights, got out, and slashed her right tire. Then she got back in, the car bouncing along, and headed toward the clubhouse.

The garage was, of course, already closed. Still, she hoped someone might be around to help. If she understood correctly, the club owned some kind of bar. Surely, someone would be kind enough to give her a hand. Whether Happy himself was there was another story but he probably wouldn't be at his burned-out house.

Naomi turned into the parking lot. There was indeed a building with lights on. She could see through the windows that it was busy. She parked her car in the middle of the lot and got out.

A few people were outside smoking. Naomi scanned their faces briefly. She wasn't even sure if she'd recognize her childhood friend. She hadn't managed to find any pictures of him online, and she hadn't wanted to hire anyone to track him down. Part of her felt sure she'd recognize him as soon as she saw him, even after twenty-five years.

She barely got a second glance as she walked toward the entrance. The girls sitting on the picnic tables looked about the same age as her son. There were also two men standing by, one of whom wore a leather biker jacket. He was in a lively–and clearly flirtatious–conversation with a dark-haired woman who seemed older than the others. Naomi decided not to interrupt and walked inside.

The place was packed. Most of the men were surrounded by women. On stage, two girls were pole dancing. Naomi hadn't pegged Happy as the type to pay much attention to that. He'd never cared about the cheerleaders at school either.

A blonde guy at the bar caught her eye. He stared for a second before turning completely toward her. She saw his lips move, though the music drowned out his voice. But she could have sworn she saw her name there. Naomi?

He slid off the barstool and walked over to her.

Kozik. Naomi smiled. As he got closer, she recognized his laugh, the twinkle in his eyes. His blonde hair hadn't shown any signs of gray yet, but the lines on his face were deeper. He still had the same messy hair as before, like he put some gel in, ran his hand through it twice, and left it at that. His face was fuller now, and he looked sturdier.

"Naomi? Is that you?" He laughed.

Before she knew it, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

Naomi swallowed. Apart from her son and Nash, she'd never been hugged by anyone. His aftershave hit her senses, sending a sharp pang of loneliness through her.

He let go of her, probably because she hadn't really hugged him back. She quickly tried to pull herself together.

"Hey. I... Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. How long has it been? Twenty years, at least?"

The corner of his mouth curled up in a teasing smile. "Don't tell me you don't remember the exact date you disappeared." He winked. "But hey, let's not dredge up old stuff. I'm sure you want a drink." He led her to the bar.

Naomi let out a breath of relief, glad she didn't have to share the vague excuses she'd come up with just yet.

She asked for a drink and resisted the urge to scan the room further for Happy. "I've got a flat tire. Didn't think it was likely, but I wanted to see if someone here could help."

A glint of amusement sparked in his eyes. It was like he didn't buy her story, but he was happy to play along. "I can handle that. No problem."

A plump woman approached them, with a sweet face. She seemed a bit out of place among the scantily clad, alternative girls, and didn't seem entirely comfortable either.

"This is Amy," Kozik said, slinging an arm around her waist. "My Old Lady."

"You know that sounds like you're talking about your mom, right?" Naomi teased, then extended her hand to the woman. "I'm Naomi."

"Naomi went to high school with us," Kozik added. "She used to go out with Happy."

"Oh?" Amy raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the news.

"Happy?" Naomi asked innocently. "Is that his nickname?"

Kozik nodded. "Yep, everyone calls him that. For years now."

"Fitting. If you like sarcasm." Rage might have been a better neem; that had always seemed like his fuel, though he wasn't the type to fly off the handle. It wasn't fiery rage, but more of a cold darkness, one that simmered in his eyes, crawled under your skin, and kept its distance. His self-control had always been impressive, yet he always gave the impression that a frozen inferno could erupt at any moment, ready to crush you with a single breath. "Do you have a nickname?"

Kozik shook his head with a laugh. "I'm too versatile for that."

Naomi raised a brow. He was friendly, loyal. Not exactly the qualities that earned you a tough biker nickname.

"So Tom – Happy – is here too?" She twirled her glass, pretending to be shy, though her nerves were much more present than she'd like.

"He's at home picking up some stuff. Should be here in a few minutes."

The fire. Kozik seemed to hesitate, like he wasn't sure if he should bring it up, but ultimately stayed quiet.

Should she have figured he'd stop by his house? It would have made things easier. This clubhouse wasn't the place where she could end his life. Especially now that Kozik had seen her. It frustrated her that she had to improvise so much. Normally, she rarely had to adjust her plans.