24. Emma
Chapter twenty-four
Emma
The weather is perfect. You couldn’t pick a better day for a ride if you had written it yourself.
The sun is shining, warming my whole body from the inside out, like a cat on a windowsill.
I stretch out slightly, letting the bitch bar take my weight.
I try not to move the bike too much, but I know my slight movements are nothing to Trey’s riding skills.
The bike is an extension of this man. We are perfectly safe as we ride down the highway.
We are in tune with each other on the bike.
I can anticipate his movements before he makes them, and I’m sure it’s the same for him.
It’s a different kind of intimacy, one you can only achieve riding with your ol man.
My entire life is in his palm. One wrong move and we both go down.
Going down never crosses my mind when riding with him. I know he would die keeping me safe.
I reach my arms back above my head and stretch toward the sky, letting the wind cleanse me of everyday burdens as the sunshine beams down on my sunglasses-covered face.
Right now, in this moment, I am at peace.
On the back of my man's bike, with nothing around us but our family as we ride down the highway in formation.
Today we laid a Heathen to rest, a main artery of this club. I guess “laid to rest” isn’t quite the right words to describe what we did. In a pack of one hundred members deep, Harley let her ashes fall from the back of Buzzard’s bike.
Once done, they rode up to Buzzard’s spot at the front of the formation as Road Captain. I can see her if I dip my head around Trey. Her head is thrown back, and she is soaking in the kind of therapy you only get on the back of a bike. It’s healing in a way that defies description.
We are heading back to the clubhouse, where we will have a party to celebrate Scarlett’s life.
The music will be loud, and the party will go all night long.
Just the way she would have wanted it. I run my hand over the back of Trey's kutte, taking in the five-piece patch that adorns his back. The property patches on the back of mine declare that I’m in this life with him.
For better or for worse, just like any good marriage.
This life isn’t for everyone. Life expectancy tends to drop when living this life. But what a life it is to live.
Everyone is still finding their footing after the death of such an integral part of our lives.
We still feel her loss deeply every day, but everyone is doing their best to heal.
It’s the kind of loss that will take years to heal from but will still feel for a lifetime.
One thing is certain with the tribe. I know we will make it.
Gator reaches out and wraps his hand around my lower leg, and I know it’s all going to be okay. Somehow, some way.
Buzzard reaches his hand over his head, signaling to the pack to switch lanes.
One by one, everyone’s left hand goes up, signaling to the brother behind him about the pack’s upcoming movement.
All the ladies riding behind a brother follow suit.
I raise my hand in the air, using my pointer finger to signal the move.
Like a perfectly choreographed dance, Buzzard and Stud tilt their bikes to move into the next lane, and the pack follows suit.
The power radiating off these men is overwhelming.
You feel the power of the brotherhood, and you become engulfed in the orbit of these men owning the road.
I feel their presence deep in my chest, and it’s electrifying as the pack moves as one.
I see our exit coming up on our right, and two riders fly past us to take the exit first, blocking any oncoming traffic to safely get a pack this size to its destination.
The roar of the engines under me and behind me surrounds me in a beautiful symphony, lulling me into a place of contentment.
My faith in these men has not diminished in the belief that they will keep us safe.
What happened to Scarlett was horrible, but I know these men will do everything in their power to ensure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.
I know this war isn’t over, but I have faith in these men.
I’m not stupid. I see the evidence of the violence.
Trey tried to hide it from me. I cornered him in our master bathroom, in the walk-in shower, washing the blood from his body down the drain.
I climbed in behind him and told him I couldn’t live life behind the leather curtain.
I didn’t want any secrecy between us. I knew some things had to remain club business, but if anything was taking a toll on his mind and soul, I wanted to know about it.
I wanted to help carry that load with him.
As Gator’s old lady, I help clean him up and stitch him back together, night after night, whether it’s physically or mentally.
Then I get up in the morning and I’m Fijor’s mom, running errands and making meals.
I meet with the sisters weekly, and the whole family gets together for dinner on Sundays.
We are doing what we can to maintain a normal routine.
The men are wound tight, and we know it’s just a matter of time before another shoe drops.