Chapter 2 Zachary
Zachary
Resting my forehead against the bathroom door, I sigh heavily.
I’ve managed to numb the physical pain in my chest with enough weed that should’ve put me in a coma, but it doesn’t numb my mind the way I need it to.
I know the pain will return and when it does, I’ll still not be ready for it.
The grief of losing India still looms over me, like her ghost is desperate to reach out to me, but Dad is different.
Or maybe he isn’t. Fuck knows anymore. Having to be the one who told my mom he was gone will probably be the shit that haunts me the most, and for the rest of my life.
I stand on the front door step of my parents’ house, not remembering the drive from the club.
I can’t make myself move to go inside and burn my mom’s world to ashes.
Once she knows, her life will never be the same again.
I doubt she’ll ever smile again. If it wasn’t for my dad, knowing he would want me to be the one there for her, I’d let anyone else tell her.
Or I wouldn’t. I… shit. My eyes water and I angrily swipe at them before a single tear can fall.
I slide the key into the lock, knowing I can’t prolong this any longer.
She deserves to know as much as I don’t want her heart to break.
It’s still fractured from India. Stepping into the house, I hear Dad’s voice calling for me to get my ass out of my room when I was a teenager.
I stare down at my boots. Mom will kick my ass if I wear them in the house but the thought of bending down to untie the laces seems like too much effort.
“Babe?” she calls from upstairs. “The coffee’s on, can you pour me one, I’ll be down in a minute.”
My damn eyes water again and I grind my knuckles into my sockets to push them away. I’m not here to cry, I’m here to hold my mom while she cries.
“Babe?”
My mouth opens, I go to tell her it’s me but those few extra seconds of unknowing will become the most precious moments in her life. Besides, nothing will come out. The floorboards above me creak with light footsteps until she appears at the top of the stairs.
Her eyes travel from my face down to my cut and takes in the blood covering my leather and my hands and arms.
“Zach, open the door so your dad can come in,” she instructs, her voice trembling, and her chest heaving with each breath.
“Mom…”
“Zachery, I won’t tell you again.”
There’s a little more strength in her tone but it crumbles when she clings to the banister.
A tear rolls down her cheek as she pleads, “Please, open the door.”
The lump in my throat feels like a fucking boulder, but I force out, “He isn’t coming home, Mom.”
“No.”
I’m halfway up the stairs before I realise I’m moving, and I hit the top in time to save her from stumbling down them. She clings to me, her nails piercing into my arms. The stinging pain is a welcome relief.
“Tell me how.”
“He was shot. Four times.”
Her scream fills the house, and I hold onto her tighter. I’d do anything for my mom, and I wish I could take this pain away before it has time to bury itself in her and fester.
“Mom, open the door or…” My energy depletes but anger is quick to energise me. “Open the fuckin’ door, or I’ll kick it down.”
I shouldn’t snap but it’s not like Mom is with it enough to give a shit.
Thankfully, it has the desired effect. The door opens and she steps out…
not dressed. Nina laid out her black dress and her favourite necklace Dad gave her on their first Christmas together.
She even paired it with her black heels.
I know this because I stood in the doorway watching, finding it surreal she had to wear another black dress for another loved one.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” I can’t help the bite in my tone.
She pushes past me and walks into her room. “I’m not going.”
The urge to ram my fist into the bedroom door fills me. She grabs at her dress and tosses it on the floor. She pulls back the comforter and climbs into bed.
“What do you mean, you’re not going?”
“I mean exactly what I said. I’m not going.”
There’s no anger or sadness. Only a stubbornness that I recognise from the days after India.
“Of course you’re fuckin’ going. It’s his funeral.”
“I know what it is.”
Losing my temper, I unleash, “Then get fuckin’ dressed. You’re going, and we’re leaving soon.”
“You need to listen to me, Zachery…”
Cutting her off, I demand, “No, you need to listen to me. You don’t get to do this again, like with India. I need you, Mom. I lost my dad. Sebastian and Rayna lost their grandpa, they need you. You can’t ignore us or what’s happening.”
Her glare softens into a long stare, but she begrudgingly gets out of bed and snatches her dress up from the floor.
I go to thank her but think twice. I close her door and make my way downstairs.
In the living room, Sebastian is slouched on the couch, no doubt Nina will give him grief about creasing his black shirt.
I can’t be sure what he’s thinking or feeling.
Ever since we told him his grandpa had died, he hasn’t said a word to us, and he hasn’t shed a tear either.
I've heard him talking with Rayna and because of that, I’m not too worried.
He wasn’t born when India died, this is the first significant death and he’s handling this his own way.
I find Nina out in the back yard, staring up the sky.
Though she’s not looking at the grey looming clouds, her eyes are closed.
I slide my arms around her, making her jump.
She quickly realises it’s me and relaxes in my hold.
“How are you doing?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter, I need all my energy on mom today.”
She turns in my arms. “Of course it matters how you feel. You’ve just lost your dad.”
Shaking my head, I tell her, “I’ll deal with me later. I just need to get her through the day.”
The back door opens and Sebastian steps out. “Will grandpa be there today, where we’re going?”
Nina sighs sadly and steps away from me.
“I told you, baby, Grandpa has gone to Heaven.” She speaks softly with him until they’re back in the house and out of ear shot.
I don’t blame my son. It’s not truly sinking in for me either.
I keep expecting him to walk through the door.
I light a joint and inhale deeply. Hoping this is a nightmare doesn’t work.
There is no waking up from this bad dream.
One minute Dad was taking cover behind a fire pit and then minutes later he was riddled with bullets.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I wait until the memories are gone.
It helps when I hear motorcycles coming up the street.
I take another hit on my joint. I want to be fully numbed before Mom comes into contact with the club.
Cas and Sparky wanted Dad to leave the club to go to the cemetery, one last ride with his brothers, but she was adamant she was doing it her way.
“Get away from him!” I hear Mom shriek.
Draining the rest of my joint, it burns between my fingers, and I dash it before rushing into the house.
Leo, Cas, and JJ, are stood in the living room, Sparky is crouched down talking to my son. Mom grabs Seb’s arm and pulls him to her side.
“Mom!” I step farther into the living room and guide Sebastian over to Nina. She ushers him out of the room and Mom’s anger is dancing along a knife’s edge.
“You have some nerve showing up here,” she spits out.
I’m sure it’s aimed at Cas, but she glares at them all. My mom has made it clear over the years how she feels about the club. There is no love lost between the club and my mother, but she needs to remember that Dad was a huge part of their lives and they’re hurting just as much as she is.
“What did you think we were gonna do, Kris?” Cas asks, then adds, “He was our brother. No one will stop us from saying our goodbyes. Not even you.”
I move closer to my mom, not trusting her to physically lash out.
“Everything bad in my life can be laid at your feet, Cas Jackson. The moment my husband is in the ground, I never want to see you again.”
I expect Cas to come back at her, but we’re met with silence until he nods and walks out.
“That goes for all of you,” she continues. “Especially, you!” This is aimed at Leo, and he huffs.
“You’re my kid’s grandmother, Kristen, it’s not likely to happen is it?”
“I’m pretty sure something can be arranged. I have never been so serious in my life.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
There’s a knock at the door and Mason sticks his head in. “Slade’s here.”
Sebastian runs through the hall. “Grandpa!” The excitement in his voice chokes me.
Pushing past my brothers, I rush outside and my son is frozen on the front lawn. Staring at the coffin in the back of the hearse, tears stream down his cheeks, and I swallow hard before going over to him.
“Mason said grandpa was here,” he sobs.
Dropping to my knees, I meet him eye to eye. “You remember we told you grandpa went to Heaven?” He nods and I continue, “I wouldn’t lie to you, son. Today we’re going to say our goodbyes and then…”
And then what? What the fuck do I tell him?
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to die?”
His innocence is out of a pure place, and I’ll not shatter him today.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I stand and take hold of his hand. “Do you want to ride on my bike with me?”
For the first time in the last few days, life lightens his eyes. “Like Grandpa?”
I nod and muster a smile. “Yeah, just like Grandpa.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Nina asks.
“We won’t be riding fast, or far,” I point out.
Mom steps out of the house and though a fresh wave of grief visibly hits her, she keeps her chin up and her back straight as she walks toward the hearse.
Placing her hand on the glass, her shoulders bob under her sobs.
Nina rushes to her side while the rest of the old ladies hang back.
They all know my mom well enough that she won’t want any of their support.
Nina is family and over the last few years, they’ve bonded, especially after Sebastian was born.
Nina leads her to the town car, and I risk a glance at my father’s coffin and swallow the grief till later. Shane and Dex’s hearses are in front of Dad’s and I take in all the brothers ready to ride with us. The old ladies walk back to the cars and Nina sticks with Mom.
“Come on, son.”
Brothers mount their motorcycles, and I swing Sebastian up and settle him in front of me. I instruct him where to keep his feet and where to hold on to. My boy listens to every word.
He looks around, taking in everyone and everything around us. “I’m going to be like you, Dad. I’m not gonna cry.”
If possible, hearing my son’s words hurt more than losing anyone in my family.
“Hey, it’s okay if you want to cry. You love Grandpa, you’re gonna miss him. It’s okay to be sad about it.”
“You don’t cry.”
This is a time to lie, only because it would benefit him. “I do sometimes.”
His little brows raise as he looks up at me. “You do?”
I nod. “Now face the front, and don’t let go.”
The hearses begin their final journey and one by one the brothers rev their engines.
Sebastian flinches but holds his head high as we pull away from the curb.
Dad would expect no less today than the club riding with him.
He made this ride many times over the years for fallen brothers.
He wouldn’t care his final ride wasn’t from the club, he would want what was easier for the love of his life.
All I have to do is get through today, then maybe I’ll have time to right my lie and cry.
Over one hundred brothers ride behind my father and I can feel every engine rumble through me. If dad was here to see this turn out for him, he’d be at peace.
People in the neighborhood venture out of their houses to see what the hell is going on, and the sheriff and her deputy watch on from their cruisers as we pass.
The cemetery isn’t far from the house and as we ride through the gates, my chest tightens with anticipation of the so-called final goodbye.
“Can I stand with you, Dad?” Sebastian asks once we’re parked and off the bike.
It's not usual for the brothers to sit with the old ladies or children if the children are present. This is my dad and if my boy wants to stand with me and the club, he can so today.
I let Nina know and she’s happier so she can deal with my mom. I hold his hand as we walk behind the coffin. Shane and Dex’s coffins fall into line and Libby walks arm in arm with Mom.
Every now and then Sebastian squeezes my hand, and I wonder how sees this through his young eyes.
This is his first time attending a funeral.
Stepping to the side, I kneel and come eye to eye with him.
“If you want to cry, cry. Don't worry about anyone seeing you. If you want to wait till later when we’re home, then that’s fine as well.
All that matters is you’re Slade McCarthy’s grandson and you can do what the fuck you like. ”
Tapping his chin up, I add, “Cry or no, keep your chin up and own it. Okay.”
He nods. “Like you.”
“Yeah, like me.”
The brothers line up in rows around the grave and the old ladies take their seats. Sebastian is the only child here and I rest my hands on his shoulders as he stands in front of me.
I look anywhere but at my father’s coffin and see Kyla sat with Emma and Aspen.
It's been so long since I’ve seen her. She hasn’t been around the club since Ricky and Pope died.
I don’t particularly blame her. Everywhere I look I see India and now my dad.
India’s blood will always be visible to me in the bar, and I reckon I’ll always hear my dad’s laughter there too.
Memories can be nice but most of the time, they can be more harmful than good.
I look down at the top of my son’s head and promise to never put him in this position.
Not until I'm old and grey and my time is natural. I don’t have the first fucking idea how I'm going to fulfil this promise but it’s one I'm not going to break.