Chapter 78
Rachel
A week later, I walked at Dante’s side as we led the funeral procession march, my mind reeling with déjà vu as we laid another member of this club to rest.
I consoled myself with the thought that she was pain free, and finally reunited with Crash and Macbeth. I would keep my promise and ensure those left behind were okay, and hopefully Kitty got a second chance at a relationship with her son. One that was free from all burdens and expectations.
I threaded my arm through Dante’s and smiled up at him, giving him a gentle squeeze.
He was holding it together well. In fact, since the night Kitty had died, he had yet to shed another tear.
He kept me close by his side, often seeking me out for comfort in his own way—meeting my eyes across the room, pulling me close, needing to be touching me even if it was just a hand on my knee.
I was grateful that he didn’t close down and shut me out the way he had when Crash had died, and so I didn’t press him about his grief.
Dante was complicated and complex, and he grieved in his own way. When he was ready to talk, he would. I couldn’t expect him to react the same way I would if someone I loved had died.
I also knew that Dante was in a difficult position. He had to be strong, not just for the Leeds members, but every member that had shown up. There were Devils from up and down the country here, coming to pay their respects to Mama.
The funeral service had been held at an actual church in town, and Bee had been granted permission to come along.
Axel stayed with my dad at the clubhouse.
He was far too young to process something so heavy.
Bee clung to me when Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran had played as we walked the coffin down the aisle, and then sat as close as possible throughout the service.
Kitty’s body had then been transported back to the club compound, and members of the club—not just Leeds, but up and down the country—were trailing behind us as we led the way to lay her to rest next to her beloved.
Ant walked with Bee, doing his best to make her laugh. Everyone knew that she was tentatively starting to talk again, and Ant was petrified that she was going to retreat back into herself again. So he put all his grief aside and spent his days waiting to hear her laughter.
It was nice to see that new side to him, and it made me wonder why he and Imogen had never had children. But I recognised it was none of my business.
“Are you okay?” I whispered to Dante as we approached the club graveyard.
“I’m okay,” he said softly, his hand coming up to squeeze mine that was wrapped around his arm. “I’m making peace with it.”
“Don’t withdraw on me again,” I said before I could stop myself.
“I promise. Not this time. We’ve come too far. And when all this is said and done, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Not now. But we need to clear some things up. The club needs me now more than ever. And they need an old lady. As far as they are concerned, you are ‘Mama’ now.”
I nodded, hearing Kitty’s words in my mind. She had already warned me that I would be expected to stand in her place.
“If you don’t want this, Rachel, then I’m willing to tear that contract in half and let you go.
I can’t keep forcing this. I won’t force you .
But I need you to make a decision for me.
Not now. But soon.” He squeezed my hand again and then gently prised his arm out of my grip as we arrived at the graveyard.
He walked ahead of me with the rest of the club, ready to carry Mama’s coffin to the hole next to Crash’s.
I thought over his words. I didn’t need time to think it over. I knew what I wanted. But before I could have it—before Dante and I could finally be free—I had one last thread to cut.