Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)
Page 11
“Sure. Is there somewhere specific Meg and I should sit?”
This is one of the many things that’s been bothering me since Dex told me my attendance today was mandatory. Meg and I didn’t know Diesel, we’d never met him, hadn’t talked to him, we haven’t even seen a picture of him. It feels disrespectful to be at a funeral of a man we can’t possibly mourn. I told Dex as much, but he was adamant we were going, and that was final.
The air stirs around us as the first drops of rain start to fall, but in stark contrast to the icy chill, a warm hand presses against my lower back.
“You sit up front with me,” Dex voice rumbles into the side of my neck.
I knew he was there. I’ve always known when he was close by. The tingle of awareness down my spine every time Dex walks into a room isn’t something that’s diminished with time. Even now when I’m furious at him, my body reacts to him.
“That’s really not necessary,” I mutter. “Meg and I will be fine up the back.”
“You’ll sit with me by choice, or I’ll put you where I want you. Either way, you’re sitting with me,” he repeats, digging the pads of his fingers deeper into my flesh. Not hard enough to hurt me, but firmly enough to let me know he’s not kidding.
“Just sit with King Dick already,” Meg snaps, using her affectionate pet name for Dex.
Rubbing her only slightly smaller than Blaine’s baby bump, Avery suggests,
“My feet are killing me, and these two need a minute, so why don’t you come and sit with us, Meg?”
Meg doesn’t answer, but she does follow them, which surprises me. My friend doesn’t usually give up an opportunity to say her piece, but maybe she knows better than to pull that shit today.
Or maybe I was wrong, I silently and sarcastically think to myself when she warns,
“I’m watching you little man. If you do anything to upset her, I’ll kick your ass from here to Idaho. And no one in their right mind wants to go to Idaho, so watch your back.”
Jump scoffs beside her, startling her which has Meg losing her footing. Before she gracefully swan dives onto the now wet grass below, Jump wraps a large, muscular arm around her, keeping her upright.
“Careful, cupcake. Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty dress now would we?”
Stomping her foot like all good divas do, Meg scowls at him.
“Oh, go suck a bag of dicks. I’m perfectly capable of saving my own ass, thank you very much. And for the love of baby Jesus, stop calling me cupcake.”
Winking at her, Jump proves just how capable of handling my friends’ attitude he is.
“Sorry, I don’t think I can do that, cupcake. You’re just so sweet and all.”
That earns giggles from all the women who are watching on with rapt interest, and a couple of chuckles from the men who have had the pleasure of meeting Meg already.
Avery gave Meg and I a quick rundown of who’s who before we climbed into the blacked out SUV that would be our transport for the day. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll remember everyone’s names, but it’s the thought that counts.
Pretending to ignore him – she’s not doing a very good job because I see the smirk she’s trying to hide and so does everyone else – Meg commands,
“Prego number two needs to sit, so let’s find her a chair before her legs give way, and we have to hire a crane to haul her ass off the floor.”
“And just to think, I was kinda starting to like you, then you have to go and ruin it all by mentioning the size of my ass,” Avery quips, not offended in the least.
“Yeah, well, the truth hurts. Maybe you’ll learn to keep your legs closed in the future so you won’t suffer the horizontally challenged side effects of reproduction,” Meg returns, smiling now.
Avery quirks an eyebrow asking,
“Was that your polite way of telling me my ass should come with a wide load warning label?”
“Make of it what you will,” Meg gets out before Boss intervenes.
“Not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but we’re here for a reason, and that’s not to talk about your asses. Now, take a fucking seat. Emily doesn’t need to be out in the cold to say goodbye to her son any longer than absolutely fucking necessary.”
Dex grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers as we follow behind the women who break off in separate directions to sit at their men’s sides. I don’t fight him on it - not that it would do me much good if I tried – because in some small part, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine gives me comfort.
*****
The graveside portion of the service concludes quickly at Emily’s request. Everyone who wanted to was afforded the opportunity to speak at the church, the service was open to the public so the people who knew Diesel but weren’t part of the MC or family could pay their respects. Only those who knew him best; Emily, Boss, Cami, his brothers and their families – and yes, us – were permitted to see him laid to rest
I can’t hold back the flood of tears when Boss steps up to the side of Diesel’s coffin and places a meticulously folded Vengeance flag on top. They flow freely and unchecked as Cami slowly makes her way to the casket, falling to her knees sobbing.
But the most heart-wrenching sight is Emily gently stroking Diesel’s coffin as I imagine she would have his hair when he was a boy. Amongst a sea of flowers with the rain falling steadily, Emily shatters.
I’m not alone in my heartbreak for her, though. Sobs rent the air from almost all of the women present, and the men who had been silent and stoic up until now have tears glistening in their eyes too.
Dex’s hand tightens around mine with almost crushing force, and I don’t say a word. I’ve surreptitiously stolen glances at him throughout the service, watching as his pain intensifies with every passing minute. I expected he would break, show some outpouring of emotion, just not how he did it.
Tugging me none too gently into his lap, Dex wraps his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
“No more, Aislinn,” he rasps. “Hate me, hit me, fucking yell at me, I don’t care, just don’t pretend I don’t exist anymore. Please.”
I would have ignored him if it weren’t for the broken please he tacked on the end. Truly, I would. But like the sucker I am, I can’t resist Dex or the desire to try and ease his pain.
I’ve always been this way when it comes to Dex. When he was upset, sad, angry, hurt, I took it as my personal mission to make him smile again. Most of my attempts were in vain until I worked out all it took was for me to open my arms and offer him a hug to bring my Dex back to me.
So with little else to offer him, that’s what I do now. Winding my arms around his shoulder, I let Dex take the comfort he needs from me. And if I’m honest, I take some for myself too.
Or I do until I hear him say the only thing worse than I’m sorry.
“I love you, Daisy. I always have and I always will. Now and forever, baby.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
~ Gage ~
“All I want for Christmas is you… Just kidding. Get me parts for my bike.”
– Truth
Aislinn is out of my arms glaring at me before the last word leaves my mouth, looking more pissed off than I’ve ever seen her. She doesn’t say anything, but I know it’s me telling her I love her that’s responsible for her change of attitude.
Feeling her soft curves molded against me, breathing in her sweet vanilla scent, and hearing her heart beat steadily, I couldn’t tell her. I’ve been waiting years to see her again so that I could. Fucking years.
“Aislinn?” I prompt, her silence unsettling me.
Shaking her head, Aislinn frowns before saying,
“Now’s not the time or the place, Dex. You’re here to pay your last respects to your brother, not go over our history. Beth told me you guys are staying for a while afterward, and I can see some of the girls leaving, so I think it’s best if I go with them.”
My pulse races thinking of Aislinn leaving unprotected, but calms
minutely when Lord appears out of nowhere stating,
“I’m headed back to the clubhouse too, Gage. I’ll watch over her until you get back. Take your time, man, and give your brother a proper send-off.”
“Give us a second, would you?” I mutter in response.
Lord gives me a curt nod, and Aislinn a grin before walking over to say his goodbyes to the men staying behind. I can’t say I’m happy about the self-professed ladies’ man watching over my girl, but I don’t have much choice. I need to be here to honor Diesel’s life with my brothers – I can’t be in two places at once – and Lord’s one of the only men outside my brothers Aislinn’s spent any time with, so I know she’ll be comfortable hanging with him until I get done.
“This is gonna take a while, but I’ll be back, and then you and I are going to have ourselves a nice long talk,” I say half in warning, half hopeful she’ll agree.
Her eyes flash with defiance, but Aislinn nods regardless of her desire to fight me on it.
“It’s been a tough few days for you, and honestly, I think this should wait. Nothing good can come from us talking, Dex. It’s been too long, and we’re different people now.”
“That’s the thing, though, Aislinn. Both of us have changed, but you’re still the same girl I knew when we were kids,” I reason as she shakes her head.
“No, Dex, I’m not.”
“I’ve seen her, Aislinn. When you’re not trying so hard to hide her, I’ve seen glimpses of the girl shine through. You can keep denying it, but I know she’s in there, now I’ve just gotta work on finding a way to bring her back to me.”
I move in until we’re only inches apart, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body and bend down to kiss her cheek.
“I’ll see you soon, baby.”
Not waiting for her to answer, I walk away to join my brothers. There will be time later, and I intend on taking full advantage of this lockdown to make Aislinn see what’s right in front of her. Me.
*****
Ten of us sit silently staring at the mound of dirt covering a man taken from us way before his time. Emily chose Diesel’s headstone; black granite with Vengeance’s club logo at the top were her only stipulations, however. The rest – what was written to remind the world of the short journey he took – was up to us.
Dillon ‘Diesel’ Matthews
Son, Brother, Vice President, & Friend
May 9th, 1976 – April 5th, 2016
Every man dies, not all of them truly live.
Freedom, Integrity, Respect, & Honor.
Boss agonized over what would forever serve as his best friends’ memorial. It took a few whispered words from his wife before he pulled himself together long enough to find a fitting tribute and email it to the company manufacturing Diesel’s headstone.
“I’m not going to give a long bullshit speech about how good of a man Diesel was, that shit’s unnecessary. He was your VP, your brother, your friend, and Emily’s son, so you already know everything you’ll ever need to by the way he treated the ones he loved,” Boss chokes out. “Never thought I’d see the day I’d be burying my brother and best friend, and I didn’t want to, seeing as I always thought I’d go first. He and I talked about what we wanted when we took our final ride. All Diesel wanted was his brothers by his side, and his mom and Cami taken care of. He didn’t give a shit about honoring his memory, just that the people he loved were protected and safe. I couldn’t let him go out like that, though.”
Hunching over, my forearms rest on my knees, my eyes are aimed into the distance as I absorb every word Boss is saying because they’re Diesel’s last. He’ll always be remembered and respected, not only for the position he held in the club, but also the man he proved himself to be, but this is the end of our mourning him as a club. Privately is a different story.
Since its inception, Vengeance’s final ride traditions have remained unchanged. As a club, we carry out our brother and his families wishes, whatever they may be, but after he’s lowered into the ground or cremated, we stay behind drink a toast in his honor, leaving the bottle with him to ease his journey into the great beyond.
For every brother that’s passed during my time with the MC, we’ve held a different kind of ritual back at the clubhouse afterward. Diesel’s cut has already been mounted and framed in preparation, and will be hung on the wall while his family and friends celebrate his life, not grieve his loss.
That’s not to say the mood won’t be somber; it will. It’s simply not possible for people to just turn off the sorrow and pain of losing a loved one. Diesel didn’t want that, though. He wanted people, especially his mom and Boss to remember how he lived, and a party with all of those he cared about present was how he wanted that done.
Handing out our shots of Diesel’s favorite bourbon, Makers Mark, Boss holds what’s left of the bottle in a death grip once he’s done.
“Brothers, raise your glasses to the best man I’ve ever known. My brother by choice and in leather. My best friend unrivaled by any other. And our Vice President by unanimous decision. To Diesel,” he croaks, tipping the shot down his throat, swallowing thickly.
All of us; Cash, Jump, Fury, Jonas, Sarge, Gunner, Maddox, Sly, Dirty, and myself charge our glasses saying our own personal farewell, watching as Boss pours the remainder of the bourbon over the freshly filled in grave. In my mind, stay safe, ride long, live free, repeats like a prayer or a plea. Either way, wherever he is, I hope to fuck my friend is at peace.
Clouds are rolling in over the mountains, signaling it’s time to head out. But we’ll be back. Every year on his birthday with a bottle of Makers, we’ll be back.
CHAPTER TWELVE
~ Aislinn ~
“Next time that bully asks for your lunch money, tell him you left it on his Mom’s dresser.”
– Aislinn to Lyric
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask, hoping she’ll finally take one of us up on the many offers she’s gotten in the last hour.
Emily has worked herself into near exhaustion since we exited the SUV in the forecourt after leaving Diesel’s grave. Lord attempted to get her to sit down a few times, but after the third time when Emily told him she’d eviscerate him with the cleaver in her hand, he wisely retreated to the safety of the main room.
Adelyn is quite possibly the smartest of all of us, letting Emily do her own thing while merely keeping a watchful eye on her. I can’t bring myself to do the same, however. It just feels wrong to let a grieving woman do all of the work for her son’s wake.
“Not a thing, honey,” Emily mutters distractedly. “As soon as I get the meatloaf out of the oven, there’s only what’s going on the grill left to do. Boss will fire it up when he gets back.”
“What about setting up outside? Could I do that?” I push desperate for something, freaking anything to take my mind off Dex’s veiled promise.
Emily laughs at me, which would usually bother me because I wasn’t trying to be funny, but in this case, I’m just glad to hear it. It isn’t long or loud. It’s hoarse and sounds strained to my ears, but that’s to be expected under the circumstances.
“Honey, I don’t know what kind of parties you’ve been going to, but this isn’t one of those. These men are bikers, I’m lucky if they eat with a knife and fork most days, let alone use napkins or the like,” she informs me with a smirk.
“Hey,” Lord shouts, feigning insult. “I heard that woman, and I’ll have you know, I like my napkins cloth, not paper.”
“I’m sure you do,” Emily yells back, not believing him in the slightest. “Are they on their way back yet?” She asks after a pause.
Appearing in the doorway, Lord gives her a nod and me a wink. Flirty bastard.
“Five minutes, beautiful.”
Mock scolding him, Emily snaps,
“Get out of my kitchen, boy, and go do something useful. Pull the extra benches out of the green shed. I don’t care where they go, they boys will move them where they want them, just pu
ll them out so we can get a move on when they ride in.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Lord chuckles, saluting her as he walks out the back door.
Adelyn places her hand on my shoulder, making me jump at the contact, not having heard her approach.
“Why don’t you come and help me start up the pits? I love playing pyro, but my big, badass hubby steals all the fun when he’s around so I need to get this done before he finds out,” she says checking behind her as if Reaper will show up out of nowhere.
Truthfully, I believe that is entirely possible. Not only is Reaper stealthy for such a large, imposing man, but he's also perhaps the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Besides Dex and Cash, that is.
Taller than Dex, Reaper has to be, six-three or four, at least, his frame is packed with well-defined muscle. It’s hard to tell his age from just looking at him seeing as it’s clear he take very, very good care of himself, but according to Adelyn – I didn’t believe her at first – Reaper is in his early sixties.