Billy walked into the Four Roses and took a seat around a table with the rest of the guys. He glanced around at them, snatched a drink from the center of the table, and downed a shot. The liquid burned his throat on its way down, but he hardly noticed. He looked down as he set the glass back on the table, and his eyes found his forearm, exposed because he had pushed the sleeves of his dark shirt up to his elbows. The curls of ink that blackened his skin there stood out to him in a new way, in a way that had only started since she left.

He stared down at the curls in his right arm, noticing for probably the millionth time the way that the very tips of the ink looked almost exactly like the very tips of those damn feathers. The feathers that made up Tyler's wings. Strange, he thought, how they'd all called her Angel when she was there, but now he thought of her only as Tyler.

They never talked about her. The only time they had was when they went to the hospital and found him awake, and when they explained what they'd told her and that she was staying at the apartment for only one more night before she left. Bodi had already had his phone out, ready to call and tell her that Billy was alive, that everything had changed, but Billy had made it clear immediately that none of them were to contact Tyler. The guys had all stood there, around the bed, staring at Billy in confusion. He hadn't explained himself no matter how many times they asked or made it apparent that they didn't understand, but they'd done as he asked—or rather, as he ordered—and none of the guys ever talked to Tyler or tried to stop her from leaving.

The guys who had been there when Billy was shot demanded to know how he was alive, and he'd explained as best he could. When Billy had been shot he'd fallen to the ground, unmoving but still conscious. The members of the Hall who were there were still shooting even after Billy went down, though, so his guys couldn't get there to see if he was alive until quite a while later, when the Hall had left. By the time they got to him he'd bled so much that he was unconscious, and they thought he was dead.

So they took him to the local crematorium. And they left him there, along with a number for the clerk to call when Billy Darley was nothing but a box of ashes. Then they'd gone back to the meth lab, where Tyler walked in and found out what had happened.

Billy found out that Tyler had led the gang in killing every last member of the Hall, and he couldn't help but swell with pride when he heard. Then the guys told him what they'd told Tyler, and how she'd said her goodbyes and how she'd left.

But not long after she'd turned a corner and disappeared for the last time, when the guys were standing around, staring at the place she'd gone and remembering the first time they'd ever seen her, Bodi got a phone call. It was his number that they'd left with the clerk at the crematorium. One of his guys had been preparing Billy to be burned when he realized that Billy was breathing. They called for an ambulance first, and then they called Bodi.

Then the guys went to the hospital not knowing if they would find Billy dead or alive. But he'd already had a blood transfusion and was wide awake when they got there. They had discussed on their way to the hospital whether to call Tyler and tell her that Billy was alive, but they eventually decided they would worry about whether to call once they'd seen Billy. None of them wanted to risk calling her and then have her rush to the hospital, only to arrive after Billy had died or when he was slipping away.

And when they'd arrived, Billy had refused to let them call her.

Getting shot had hurt, and so had waking up in a hospital with some random fucker's blood being poured into his veins. But that pain was temporary, and it had been dulled by meds. And now he was feeling a different kind of pain, the kind that he had been feeling ever since he got home after three days in the hospital. That was when it really hit him that she was gone. This pain was something that couldn't be dulled or healed. No amount of drugs or alcohol could properly get her off of his mind, and nothing he did kept her out of his thoughts for long.

But now Billy looked up, realizing that all eyes were on him because he'd been lost in thought and hadn't responded when one of the guys said something. He raised his eyebrows, asking them to repeat it. And Heco did repeat it, but already his voice was something dull, a quiet noise in the background of Billy's returning thoughts.

It was torture. He thought of her often, wondered every other moment where she was, what she was doing. Had she jumped back into her old life with ease? Did she remember her time with him, or was she trying to forget? Had she started college classes? Was she happy? Did he ever cross her mind?

But the real kicker was that he thought about her and wondered about her so often, when he knew she'd never wonder about him. How could she? She thought he was dead. She didn't think he was still around, so she wouldn't wonder what he was doing or whether he was alright.

Of course, Billy would never admit it to anyone else, but deep down inside he realized that he really did worry about her. She'd said that she lived outside of a small town and that where she lived there were a bunch of country people. Crimes weren't a common occurrence where she lived, so Billy assumed that she'd be safe enough. And at the same time, he couldn't let go of the panic that gripped him every time he realized once again that she was alive, somewhere, far away from him, and that he wasn't there to keep her safe. Hell yes, he worried about her. And the worry threatened to eat him alive. Sure, she wasn't in any danger of being shot or stuck with a knife by some gang, but there were everyday things that he'd never considered dangerous until now.

Billy couldn't understand why he couldn't just forget her. Sure, they'd lived together for nearly three years. Sure, she'd known him more intimately and had known more of his secrets than any member of the gang. Sure, she'd made him laugh and she'd soothed his hurts and she'd been his best friend. She would have done anything for him, and she had; she'd looked the opportunity to go home in the eye and she'd walked away from it, she'd joined a gang and gotten wings tattooed on her back, hell, she'd even killed for him.

But Billy's idea of love and what it meant was twisted, deformed after many years of his abusive father's claims to love him. His idea of love had been all but destroyed when his mother died, and when her death drove his father nearly to madness. All he'd had in the world had been Joe. Joe and a group of men who he'd grown up with and considered to be brothers. But even they weren't always dependable, and over the years Billy had built himself armor. Armor that he didn't remove even in the presence of his closest friends. Until Tyler. But he didn't realize that she'd somehow snuck under his armor, had no idea just how close to his heart she'd managed to get.

He'd tried to drown his pain in copious amounts of alcohol. It hadn't worked. So he turned to drugs. Anything he could get his hands on that would take him away from reality. It hadn't worked.

Then, one night, he got so desperate that he tried another woman. He hadn't hooked up with a whore since he'd bought Tyler, but suddenly it seemed like it might be a good idea. But that turned out to be the worst idea he'd ever had. She'd shown up, and was sitting on his lap and pulling her shirt over her head when he had to look away. This was all wrong. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. But she wasn't Tyler. And there were so many things that Billy had loved about Tyler and the way that she acted during sex. She was innocent when he bought her, but even when he took her virginity he didn't take her innocence. Even the last time they'd slept together she'd managed to know exactly how to please him while still maintaining an air of innocence.

He'd sent the whore away immediately. And he hadn't looked at another woman the same way since. He had no idea that over a thousand miles away, Tyler was missing him just as much. And she couldn't look at any guy without automatically and subconsciously comparing him to Billy. And none of them were good enough. If they weren't Billy, she didn't want them. And there was only one Billy. And as far as she knew, he was dead.

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