Fractured & Formidable: The Sacred Hearts MC Book V (26 page)

“Thank you, man. I mean, thank all of you,” Data was hoarse,
beyond moved and if anyone had any misgivings on if he were the right man for
the job, they fucking evaporated.

“Anybody been a Road Captain before?” Dray asked and he
sounded weary. I think all of us knew how he felt. None of us wanted to be
here, doing this, restructuring just about
everything
under these
circumstances. It was bullshit, but there wasn’t any other choice. Nothing else
we could do. We had to wait. Get the girls safe, lose the cops before we could
do
anything
else or even begin to right the wrongs done to us.

“Archer,” Rush and Nox said at the same time.

They grinned at each other and Rush said, “Jinx you owe me a
beer.”

Nox laughed, “What are you twelve?”

“I am, then you are too genius,” Rush punched Nox in the
shoulder and Nox laughed.

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Archer grated. Both of them
automatically fell silent but it was Rush who rolled his eyes behind his
brother’s back, Nox fought not to grin. Weird dynamic those three.

“Anybody else want to try for it or got anyone else in
mind?” Dragon asked.

“Lucky.” Trigger was the one who had spoken, Lucky looked
across to the big man and nodded.

“You ever done it before?” Duracell asked.

Lucky shook his head, “First time for everything I reckon.”

“All in favor of Archer?” Dragon called.

Hands went up, I knew Lucky but if Archer had experience, I
was willing to give the dude a try. Lucky just seemed a little too nonchalant
about it. I don’t think I was the only one erring on the side of experience.
The majority voted the new guy, Archer, into the spot without so much as a
second thought. Knew the right decision had been made when Lucky looked
secretly relieved. I knew as much as anyone else that he would do anything for
this club, anything at all that was asked of him even if he didn’t particularly
want to. Data handed the Road Captain flash to Archer.

“Right, any other business?” Dragon asked, looking over his
shoulder to Dray. Dray sighed, leaned in and muttered to his Pops and Dragon
nodded.

“Right, Reave was our Enforcer too…” Dragon sighed and
looked up, hopeful that someone would step up for the grim job.

“Oh, gladly!” Duracell put up his hand and bounced on the
balls of his feet. A bunch of the guys traded uneasy looks. No one should be
that excited about taking a job that was about hurting people in most clubs.
There were a couple of misplaced chuckles, one even escaping me at just how
Reaver-like Duracell’s reaction was to the spot needing filled.

“It’s yours,” Dragon shook his head and laughed low and all
of us turned mutely and introspective to look at the damned black box behind
him. There wasn’t a thing on God’s green earth that would ever replace Reave.

Dragon stepped off the short drop from the stage, his boots
clacking hard against the polished cement of the club room floor. He sighed and
walked purposefully to the bar and went behind it. We all stood and followed
our Pres, lining up along the bar’s front as he lined up shot glasses along its
scarred wood surface. He cracked open a bottle of tequila, his go-to drink and
poured them out in one long line, not even caring about spilling. Everyone
grabbed one, handing them back to the guys not bellied up directly against the
bar top. Dragon waited until everyone had one in hand before he raised his
glass. We all raised ours in unison.

“To Chandra.” He hiked up his glass a little higher and we
followed suit, no one spoke, the sounds of creaking and sighing leather and the
rattle of an odd buckle the only sounds to accompany the toast. We drank them
down and there was an odd cough or two, the rush of breath as some sighed out
at the bite and burn of the alcohol.

“Line ‘em up,” he ordered and we did and he poured another
round.

“Trig,” Dragon leveled the big man with his dark gaze. We
all looked to the big SAA, our friend, our brother and Reaver’s best friend.
His eyes were particularly shiny as he raised his shot.

“To Reaver. My brother; my best friend. Ain’t no one like
him, God could never have made two of a man like that.”

We drank, and truthfully, I don’t think any of us really
stopped drinking. Half of us were already half gone by the time the girls
arrived with the food and I don’t think any of us could wrestle up one bit of
sorry for the state we were in by the time the night was through. It fucking
hurt, and every damned one of us that were any kind of close to Reaver would
have done anything to drown the pain.

Mandy…

The wake for Reaver and Chandra wasn’t anything like the
wake for Grinder. It was as if the men of The Sacred Hearts mother chapter,
Zander included, were determined to drown their sorrows, to numb the pain any
way they knew how. They drank, they threw knives in honor of the fallen brother
and when night well and truly fell and the bar had essentially run dry, they
tried to drown their pain in the women that hung around the club.

Zander came to me and while I hadn’t drank anything, I still
felt vaguely nauseous, though it wasn’t at anything going on around me. Not at
all. I understood that everyone dealt with the pain in their own way and this
was the way the MC chose to grieve. In celebration of the fallen man’s life.
Drowning their heartache in wine, women and song… The song provided courtesy of
some hidden sound system blaring 70’s rock so loud you could barely hear
yourself think.

Throughout the night, Hayden remained numb. Seated in a
folding chair beside her husband’s closed casket, her hand laying on the
gleaming lacquered wood. Shoulders hunched, her green eyes vacant, she stared
off into space, barely blinking. She wouldn’t eat, she wouldn’t drink and she
wouldn’t respond to anyone. Not Ashton, not Trigger and not Cutter either. It
was heartbreaking and sometime, late into the night she’d started sobbing.
Trying to work the latches holding the lid to Reaver’s coffin closed.

Dragon stepped in at that point, with Dray not far behind
him. I drifted over to see if I could be of use, some sort of help, standing on
the periphery, bearing witness to the disaster unfolding. Dragon knelt on the
floor of the stage in front of Hayden, grasping her hands between his own, much
larger ones.

“I want to see him,” Hayden keened.

“No, chica you don’t. You don’t wanna remember him that way,
Baby.
He
wouldn’t want you to remember him this way. You gotta hold on
to what’s in your heart,” he told her and drew her in. Hayden collapsed,
sobbing and wailing into the shoulder of Dragon’s cut and it was so awful and
no one could do anything for her except stand in silent support around her. Doc
finally came and sedated her. Cutter lifted her in his arms and carried her
back to Reaver’s club room. Everyone stood mute and sober and the drinks began
to flow afresh and it was almost like people were doubly as determined to party
after that.

It wasn’t long after the heart wrenching display that Zander
found me in his room, brushing out my curls, braiding my hair tightly, just
finding things to do with my shaking hands as I readied for bed. He came up
behind me and kissed my shoulder.

“’s not gonna happen to me, Red. I promise. I’m gonna be
here, I’m gonna stay here.” He swayed on his feet and it was the most drunk I
had ever seen him. I closed my eyes. It was as if he had pulled the thoughts
from my head. Plucking my deepest fears out of the back of my brain and I was
scared and hurt and so many things that I grew angry.

It was our first fight, but it wasn’t really a fight. I
lashed out at him, he was taken aback and he lashed out at me, and the things
we said… Good lord. I accused him of lying to me, of making promises he
couldn’t keep. He yelled back at me that he was going to keep them, that he
didn’t know what was going to happen, but that he had things in hand and the
argument which wasn’t really an argument at all, culminated in his screaming at
me that the last thing he would ever do would be to leave me alone in this
world.

 We’d ended up holding each other, me crying, him begging me
not to cry, before he laid down with me and holding me close, passed out cold
from all he’d drunk. He reeked of alcohol and smoke from his time out in the common
room and I felt overly sensitive to it, my gorge rising that much further as my
nausea of earlier increased.

I fell into an uneasy sleep, tying myself in knots with
worry on if I were coming down with something before the long drive ahead of us
the next day. We were set to depart for Florida directly after the burial. All
our things had been packed. Everett had been masterful at delegating
responsibilities and keeping everyone on task over the last two weeks. Tomorrow
we left our home, our men and that which we loved most, behind and it was
killing me inside.

I woke early, felt horrible and so I showered and dressed
before anyone else. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Ashton and Evy were up
too. I went in to the kitchen to find both of them up and ready for the misery
the day would bring as well. Everett was brewing coffee, Ashton was heating
aluminum pans full of cinnamon rolls to feed the masses and it was supposed to
be my job to pick up around the common room while they did.

I went for the giant black trash bags in the pantry but
stopped when I caught them both looking at me, brows furrowed with concern.

“What?” I asked.

“You feeling okay?” Evy asked. I grimaced and shook my head.

“Terrible time for it but I think I may be coming down with
something. I’ll be fine.” I did my part and was grateful when they let it go,
though truthfully, if people hadn’t started waking up and coming out they
probably would have pressed me further.

I made quick work of cleaning up and washed my hands so I
could help Ashton serve. Everett gave me a cup of coffee and I went to drink,
the rich aroma wafting up to me. My stomach flipped and not in a good way and I
barely made it to the trashcan in the back of the kitchen on time. Everett was
right there beside me and I moaned. Ashton passed her some wet paper towels and
I wiped my mouth.

“You need to stop stressing,” Everett observed dryly and I
nodded. She was right. I was a master at worrying myself literally sick. I’d
done it just after the shooting and I was probably unconsciously doing it now.
I straightened, waited for a wave of dizziness to pass and felt much better.

“Move,” Zander shouldered his way into the kitchen, looking
little the worse for wear from his night before.

“Red, what happened? You all right?” he demanded. I nodded.

“I’m sure it’s just stress.”

He pulled my forehead to his lips and after several more
moments of my reassuring him I was fine, went back out. Everett, Ashton and I
made quick work of clean up along with the ladies from other clubs before we
went to don our funeral attire. We’d kept Shelly and Hayden as busy as we could
over the last two weeks, but when it came to the actual activities of the night
before and the day of the funeral, well, we asked them to do nothing. We had it
handled. Ghost was outside his club room door when I passed in the hall.
Forearm leaned against the doorframe, forehead resting against his arm.

“Come on Princess, I know Baby, I know it’s hard but you
gotta come out here and face the day.” The door cracked open and Ghost looked
visibly relieved, shoulders dropping from where they’d been tensed.

I darted into Zander’s room and put on the black slacks and
blouse I’d chosen for the day. I didn’t want to do this either, and I hadn’t
been nearly as close with Reaver as any of the rest, including Everett. I
paused and stared in the mirror at my pale reflection. Deep dark circles had
taken up permanent residence under my eyes from sleepless nights filled with
nightmares of watching that man shoot Chandra. Of staring down the barrel of
the same gun with my own eyes, only in my dreams Everett hadn’t shot him in
time. In my dreams I always woke screaming as fire and smoke poured from the
barrel of that gun and I watched, helpless as that bullet spun towards me in
slow motion like something out of a movie.

I swallowed hard, the nausea making a return trip and
sighed, forcing myself to go out and stand silently aside out front. We watched
as Reaver was loaded in to the back of a sleek black hearse by Zander, Disney,
Trigger, Ghost, Dray and Dragon. Shelly stood pale and miserable beside Hayden,
her arm around the smaller woman as she fell apart. Cutter stood with them,
reverent and grim and did what he could for his fallen friend’s wife, who was
beyond anything any of us knew how to cure.

Trigger closed the back door to the hearse and the men of
the chapter moved around the vehicle to their bikes parked in front. The police
were already here, blocking the traffic on the highway and to serve as an
escort for the funeral procession to the cemetery. We moved to our vehicles. I
let Everett drive and it was just me and her in my car. Cutter helped Hayden
into the back seat of Ashton’s Jeep, Shelly got in beside her. Ashton drove
their car and as we watched them ahead of my little focus, Everett and I held
each other’s hand over the center console. We didn’t feel that all of us cramming
into Ashton’s Jeep was appropriate given that the vehicles were all already
packed for our trip.

The order of the procession was all the Sacred Hearts from
the mother chapter, followed by the hearse, followed by all from the Sacred
Hearts chapters from abroad, followed by us in the cars with The Kraken
bringing up the rear.

As with Grinder’s funeral only weeks before, the roar of the
bikes starting was both startling and deafening. I swallowed my leaping heart
and closed my eyes as we pulled into the flow of things behind Ashton’s Jeep.
The drive was agonizingly slow as all funeral processions tended to be. At the
cemetery, the men all lined the pathway from the cars and bikes to the
gravesite. The pall bearers carried the casket on their shoulders between the
two lines of people. Everyone’s hand pressed to their heart.

It was poignant and as we walked behind Reaver, behind
Shelly and Ashton supporting Hayden between them to the sitting area beside the
open grave, I was surprised I felt a little lighter, a little less burdened by
sadness, because how could I be with so many others here with us to share the
load?

Behind the women of our club’s chapter, the men of our
chapter walked until all the seats were filled, and we had passed. As the men
of our club passed the beginning of the line, they fell in behind them, until
the people between which we walked, collapsed in on themselves. The column
folding in and drawing up to the grave as everyone found their place around it.

My father stood by to officiate and my mother smiled sadly
and encouraging off behind him. He said words that really didn’t mean anything
to this club and its people but were nice none the less before he turned the
floor over to Dragon to speak… but he couldn’t. He bowed his head and choked up
and our president cried. Trigger stepped up and grimly told a story or two
about how fiercely loyal Reaver was and how he loved Hayden and it was all very
beautiful and stirring and I couldn’t pay attention to any of it.

I was fighting too hard not to throw up. I closed my eyes
and breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth and eventually the
nausea subsided but by then, the ceremony was over and I felt heartily guilty
that I hadn’t been able to pay attention. Zander caught my eye as we walked
back to the cars and pursed his lips in a kiss. I hugged my parents who were
worried about me and Everett, incredibly so, but who couldn’t argue with our
logic on leaving until the violence was sorted.

“You all right sis?” Everett asked me concerned once we were
shut into the car. I looked up the little hill, to the plot held by the MC,
watching the sleek and shiny casket lower into the cold, frozen ground and
frowned.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, swallowing hard.

We fell in behind The Kraken who took the lead for the ride
and drive to Florida. Zander and Ghost fell in behind us. They would ride down
with us and make the return trip after we were settled without us. Dray and
Trigger couldn’t come because of their positions within the club. It just
wasn’t viable.

The eight hour drive was sheer Hell. The nausea quickly
redoubled its efforts once the pavement began to rush beneath the car and about
an hour into the drive I was frantically begging Everett to pull over. She
blasted the signal on the horn. Two long bleats and dove for the shoulder.
Ashton repeated the signal for The Kraken ahead and pulled off up ahead. Zander
and Ghost pulled up behind my car as I threw myself into the tall, dry grass at
the side of the road and everything I’d managed to put down after my incident
in the kitchen came back up.

Zander’s hand fell on my lower back and rubbed while I held
back my hair. Everett handed me a bottle of water and so it went… all the way
to Florida. We had to stop six more times and I could tell that some of the men
of The Kraken were getting irritated with me. Cutter, though, Cutter was not
among them.

The fourth, or was it the fifth? At any rate, one of the times
he came back, he gently led me away from the mess I made. Zander and Everett were
by the car talking low and vehement, concern etched in every line of their
faces.

“You get carsick like this on every big trip?” he asked.

“I don’t get car sick like this at all,” I rinsed out my
mouth and tried to catch my breath.

“I see. You feverish?” He put his hand to my forehead and
frowned, as soon as he removed it I shook my head.

“No, I don’t feel hot.”

“No, you don’t,” he agreed, “Ask you something personal?”

I nodded wearily and waved my hand effusively in a bid for
him to go ahead, not trusting to open my mouth.

“You think you could be pregnant?” he asked me and it was as
if I’d been doused in a bucket of ice water. I stared up into his handsome
face, wide eyed and blinked stupidly. He nodded to himself.

“We’re pulling off at the next exit,” he shouted for
everyone to hear over the rushing traffic, “Get Red here some ginger ale.”

And we did. Pulled off at the next exit and stopped at one
of those 24 hour drugstores that had just about everything. I huddled miserably
in the passenger seat of my car and wiped tears from my eyes. Everett sat
silently beside me in the driver’s seat.