Chapter 14 Lyric
LYRIC
“What the fuck do you want?”
Zombie and I stand outside the cell Loco’s being held in.
The on-duty officer didn’t want to let us in, but he also has a known drug habit I was happy to use to our advantage.
The fact that he also turned off all the cameras in the station is an added bonus.
We don’t have long until the officer is done shooting up in the bathroom, so I get straight to the point with the Shadow Sixes shot caller.
“Cray Cray,” I say. “Did he cause the wreck that killed Rowdy?”
Loco unflinchingly holds my stare as he snaps his fingers. “Rowdy… Isn’t his funeral today?”
Zombie reaches through the bars and yanks Loco until he hits his head on the steel. “Answer the goddamn question, or you’ll leave here in a body bag.”
The gang leader laughs. “I think I’ll take my chances.”
I shove Zombie out of the way and replace his hands with mine. Over and over, I slam Loco against the bars until his head is a bloody mass of flesh, hair, and brains. Finally, the haze of fury subsides, and I release Loco’s corpse.
“What the hell?”
Zombie and I whirl around to see the officer standing a few feet away. His pupils are dilated, he’s rolling down his right sleeve to cover a blown vein, and his face is ashen.
“What?” Zombie counters. “Afraid of a little blood and brains?”
The officer moves fast for a man high on heroin. Vomit spews from his mouth just as he reaches a garbage can. The smell permeates the air, and I have to breathe through my mouth in order not to puke myself.
I close the distance between us and bend to get in his face.
“I suggest you clean this shit up. Wouldn’t want word to get out that a prisoner was killed on your watch.
” He nods frantically, and I pat him on the back.
“Good man. Breathe a word of any of this, even in your prayers, and you’ll be next. Understood?”
“U-understood.”
Zombie and I leave the mess for the officer and head home to get ready to bury my dad.
“Please, Pres, give the order.”
Staring through the window of Death’s Door, my eyes narrow on the Shadow Sixes members standing across the street. I open my mouth to do as Trick requested, but a small hand squeezes my arm.
Mellie’s eyes are wide with apprehension as she shakes her head. “Not here. Please?”
I wasn’t sure she would even come to Rowdy’s funeral, but she did, and I’ve never been able to refuse her anything. Returning my gaze to the small crowd outside, I groan with frustration.
“No,” I finally say to Trick. “This isn’t the time or place.”
“Rowdy would wan—”
“I said no,” I bark, whirling on him. “If you’ve got a problem with it, file a grievance at our next church session.”
“No problem,” he says before turning to walk further into the funeral home.
“I’m sorry,” Mellie says softly.
I focus on her, forcing my expression to soften. “For what?”
“Overstepping.”
“You didn’t overstep,” I assure her. “I always want you to speak your mind. I might not always agree or do what you ask of me, but I will always listen and take your thoughts into account.”
“Even if it goes against the club’s interests?”
“Even if.”
“We’re about to get started,” Pastor says as he enters the foyer of the building.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” I tell him.
He disappears, and I grab Mellie’s hand to tug her toward the office where I keep a guitar. She gasps when I sling the strap over my head.
“What?” I ask.
“I didn’t think you were serious when you told me you were gonna sing today.”
“You think I shouldn’t?”
“No, it’s not that.” She scrunches her nose like she’s trying to find the right words. “I just don’t know how you’re gonna get through it. I’d be a blubbering mess.”
“I’ll get through it for Rowdy,” I say simply, and she nods.
We make our way into the chapel, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the casket at the front.
It’s standing room only, reminding me that my dad made just as many friends as he did enemies over the years.
Most of the people who came are KOAMC brothers from other chapters, but there’s also community leaders, business owners, and a few cops.
Hell, there are even some rivals who understand that paying your respects to someone doesn’t mean you liked them while they were still breathing.
“He was very loved,” Mellie whispers brokenly.
“Yeah, baby, he was.”
Pastor performs a short service, per the instructions Rowdy wrote down after his motorcycle accident.
Every brother in my chapter was required to write down their final wishes back then, and any man who prospects does the same.
Death is a certainty, and being part of an outlaw biker club means it can come knocking earlier than it should.
We never want our friends and family to have to wonder what to do when we die…
grieving is hard enough without having to make important decisions.
When the service ends, I remain with the casket while others file outside.
There won’t be a procession, as Rowdy is being buried in the small cemetery behind the funeral home, which is reserved for club members and their family members.
We’ll carry the casket to his final resting place, and a more traditional ride will take place when we leave here.
Time passes in a blur, and before I know it, it’s time to say my last goodbye.
It registers that Mellie is no longer standing next to me, and for a split second, I panic.
Darting my eyes around, I find her leaning into Zombie by the row of Harleys in the funeral home parking lot.
Jealousy rears its ugly head, but I shove it way down deep.
Like I said to Trick earlier… This isn’t the time or place.
I step forward and drop my chin to stare at the top of Rowdy’s casket. My throat clogs, and tears fill my eyes.
The lyrics of ‘We’re Gonna Ride Again’ flow through my mind, and I imagine my dad straddling his bike with both of his legs and a smile on his face. “We’ll ride together again, Dad.”