CHAPTER NINE LAID TO REST

Brayden—

My bike rolls slowly along the gravel path, TJ at my side. The long line of bikers escorts the hearse in a two-by-two formation that stretches for blocks. It’s a big cemetery, and the grave is toward the back, so we all make it under the wrought-iron gate and onto the grounds. There are over fifty of us, then support clubs, hang-arounds, and friends and family.

We come to a stop, dismount and make our way toward the little green tent that covers a hole in the ground. Fake turf surrounds the site in mismatched green with white folding chairs set up in rows for the family.

Brothers from the Birmingham chapter serve as pallbearers and carry the flower topped casket from the hearse to the gravesite. Butcher’s Evil Dead brothers from all over the country follow behind and form a circle around the tent.

A metal frame with straps straddles the grave, and the men set the casket on it, then step back.

A reverend begins the final service, and I spot Rebel and her mother seated together in the front row next to the grieving widow and his daughter and her family.

The minister drones on, but I tune it out. Instead, I stare at the casket and that gaping hole in the ground where sooner or later we all end up. Every man here knows that. Every man here also knows that what we do tends to shorten that time toward the sooner rather than later spot.

It isn’t lost on any of us.

Butcher made it to his seventies. Many of the men here won’t be so lucky, and we all know it. We’ve made right with that fact. We’ve made our deal with the devil, and eventually we’ll pay the price.

I can’t help wondering if, when I get to the end, what regrets I’ll have. I could die tomorrow, and standing here now, being forced to face what it all comes down to, I think about my life. I’ve had women, but no real love story. Not like Billy and Melissa. Not like TJ and Gigi, or Marcus and Brandy, or Harley and Reckless. There’s no one I think about day and night and can’t wait to get home to like many of my brothers.

My eyes are drawn to Rebel again. She’s different from any woman I’ve ever met. She’s the kind of woman who could make me feel all those things. It’s a kicker we live on opposite sides of the country. She was the last thing I expected to find on this trip. But she’s unattainable. Off-limits by her father, by distance… a relationship is impossible.

The most I could possibly hope for with this girl is a one-night stand—a fling before I leave town. But that’s not what this girl deserves. I can’t imagine riding away from her, and I know that time is coming quickly. Probably in a matter of a day or two.

I’m struck by the sharp pain spiking through my chest.

We shared one kiss. Goddamn, what has this girl done to me?

I will her to turn and look for me, to find me in this crowd of leather-clad brothers standing shoulder-to-shoulder. As if she hears my silent plea, she turns her head slightly, and I see her profile. Twisting her neck an inch farther, she finds me and our gazes lock. I can’t help the tug of my lips turning into a small smile.

Just looking at her has the tension in my chest easing, and a heat blankets me like warm honey. Good Lord, I haven’t even fucked this girl, and I’m feeling like a damn teenager with his first crush.

I cough and catch Blood’s eyes on me. They shift to Rebel, then back to me.

Aw, fuck.

The minister finishes, and at Shades’ signal, we all move to our bikes for what’s called the last rev to alert Heaven our brother is on his way.

The Birmingham Road Captain revs his bike three times and then all of us join in, except the Birmingham Tail Gunner. After three revs, the Road Captain stops, and we all sit silently, then the Tail Gunner gives the last rev.

It’s a somber, lonely sound that cuts straight to my heart. Scanning many of my brother’s faces, I know I’m not the only one it hits hard. There’s something about all this pomp and circumstance, all the formalities that ease us along the path of grief one step at a time.

The casket is lowered into the ground, and the strong wailing of the widow carries to us.

It’s the most gut-wrenching sound I’ve ever heard—the kind that goes straight to the spine and wraps around it.

To have a woman’s love like that must be something.

“Damn,” TJ whispers beside me. “If heaven didn’t hear our bikes, it’s got to hear that.”

“Have some damn respect, TJ. Someday that’ll be Gigi.”

That sobers his face quick enough.

Green wanders over. “So, now you boys have seen a biker funeral.”

“When do we head home?” TJ asks.

“There’ll be a big blowout at the clubhouse tonight to celebrate Butcher’s life. Everyone will be hung over tomorrow, so we’ll stay at least another day and get an early start Monday.” He looks at me. “How’s your leg?”

“Fine,” I lie. It’s just easier that way.

He nods, but his expression say he doesn’t buy it.

Later that night, I stand around a fire in the clubhouse backyard, a beer in my hand. Marcus, Billy, and TJ with me.

“You eat?” TJ asks and tips his bottle toward a picnic table. “There’s food laid out.”

“I got something earlier,” I reply and scan the crowd.

I haven’t forgotten Blood told me to find him tonight, but since he caught me looking at Rebel this afternoon, I’m not as excited about that as I was.

The back screen door creaks and I spot him stepping outside. Now’s as good a time as ever.

Moving to a tub full of ice and beer, I grab three and head to Blood and his chapter brother. As I approach, Blood turns and I hold out the beer. He takes one and passes the other.

“Sandman, have you met Brayden from San José? He’s Cole’s son.”

“Nice to meet you, brother.” We tap fists. “Heard what you did this morning. Respect.”

“I think Rebel needs a man with manners and respect, like you showed today.” Blood tips his beer back. “Someday she’ll find a good man.”

Sandman points his bottle at me. “You got a sister?”

I nod. “Sure do.”

“Then you know about protecting her from assholes, right?”

“Yep.”

Blood locks eyes with me. “You get she’s important to me.”

I nod.

“I’d be really pissed if someone hurt her.”

I get the less than veiled message directed at me. Whatever vibe is between her and me, Blood has picked up on it. I have to wonder who else caught on.

He claps his hand on my shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I don’t see the point of making her off-limits to the club brothers. I get if a relationship like that doesn’t work out, it can cause trouble within the club, but that doesn’t mean someone in the club can’t be the best man for her.”

Now I’m getting mixed messages, and my confusion must be written on my face, because Sandman starts laughing.

Blood shifts, drawing my attention, and gets right in my face, his voice low. “Rebel lives up to her name. She bucks every rule. But under all that, I’ve watched her shift. She’s started building walls, and I think it’s because she’s been disrespected, underestimated, and hasn’t been taken seriously. She’s closed herself off to the point where she doesn’t even try with a relationship. She’s given so much grief that it’s not even worth it, so she doesn’t even bother anymore. That’s fucked up. I want to see her happy. I’m sure her mother and father want to see her happy, but they’re too close to the situation. They don’t see what I see. There’s such a thing as overprotective, and the results are never good.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I’m not sure I know what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I think you could be that guy.”

That knocks me back a step. Literally. Where the hell is that coming from? “You get that from a look exchanged between us? From me wanting to punch that moron’s lights out?”

“I get that from what motivated you to walk across that parking lot, prepared to knock JJ’s lights out, yeah. Tells me everything I need to know. That, and the way she looked at you, like you were her fucking knight in shining armor. No one has been that for her.”

“My future is in California.”

“Maybe hers could be, too.” He lifts a shoulder. “What I’m saying is, I’ve got your back. You want to give it a shot, I’ll run interference. But you should probably cut out now and go call her, seeing as you boys are only in town a couple more days.”

What the fuck just happened?

“Don’t stand there like a moron, kid. Go get her,” Sandman mutters, draining his beer.

“I take off, brothers are gonna talk.”

“I’m done with this party. I’ll walk out with you. Your ol’ man asks, tell him I’m giving you a tour of the city.” Blood tosses his beer in a barrel. “You ready?”

“Sure.” I walk to my bike and follow Blood out the gate. We stop at a red light a few blocks away, and my phone vibrates in my pocket.

“Where the fuck you goin’?” my father barks.

“For a ride with Blood. He wants to show me the town.”

“You comin’ back?”

“I might just go to the motel later.”

“All right. See you there.”

“All good?” Blood asks.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Blood?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You’re the first man I ever saw stand up for her the way her Daddy would if he saw that shit. That makes you something special. Don’t make me regret this. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He points over to the old steel mill. “That’s the steel mill. There, tour’s over. Now you’re not lying to your father.”

I chuckle. “Good point.”

“I’m taking off. See you later, kid.”

“Thanks, Blood.”

He nods and hits his throttle, roaring off.

I pull to the curb and hit Rebel’s number. She answers on the second ring.

“Hey. I wondered when you’d call.”

“Where are you?”

“The garage. Why?”

“How ‘bout that dinner date?”