Page 176 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
The priest invites us to throw our own handfuls of dirt onto the surface of the coffin. Nellie refuses to do so, collapsing into the grass. I move forward then, dressed in all black, all leather, like a proper Daybreaker.
I kneel down next to the pile of dirt, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a few small items. Queenie’s sonogram, Posey’s hoop earrings, a toy truck that belonged to Gaz when he was little. I chuck them all into the hole before curling my fingers into the loose soil next.
Nellie doesn’t know that her son is dead. I don’t think it’s prudent to tell her with how hard she’s taking my father’s death. Eventually, I can tell her the truth. But not right now. For now, Gaz is just … off doing his own thing.
I toss the dirt in, the sound of the rocky soil hitting the lid of the coffin a musical requiem that I will never forget. It will forever stick in my mind and play on repeat when the moon is just right in the sky.
Crown tosses his handful in next followed by Sin, Grainger, and Beast. They’re standing just off to my left, never too far away. Always close. We’re always close now, the five of us. They can probably sense how close I came to falling over the edge.
I’m alright now. I’m getting better with each morning that I wake up in one of their beds.
We wait together patiently beside the hole as the rest of the club takes their own time to say goodbye to Cat. In the end, Nellie is too distraught to even stand on her own. Amber Clearwater and some of the other club wives offer to take her back to the clubhouse for the wake, and I agree.
It takes a while for everyone to finish—Cat was the president after all—and I swear, the hole is already half-filled with dirt. I can’t even see the coffin’s shiny surface anymore.
The boys escort me back to their bikes.
I climb up behind Beast as the rest of the club joins us. Not just local members either. We have guys from chapters all over the country who knew and loved my father. When those engines start up, they consume the careful quiet of the cemetery, a roar that reaches both heaven and hell, I’m sure. Wherever Cat is, I’m certain that he can hear it.
I’m fucking certain of it.
The sea of bikes moves as one, a glittering snake of chrome and leather, a funeral procession that winds from the cemetery all the way to the north end of town and then back again. We pass through the cemetery once more before heading toward the southern part of town with its burnt shells of buildings and the blackened trunks of dead trees. We even drive past what’s left of the Artefact and its collapsed barn.
I close my eyes then because I don’t want to see it. I’ve already seen it once, when we came back to retrieve all of the bodies. Now, it’s Crown who has to pay off the authorities to hide our dirty deeds. He doesn’t seem to mind. He was born to lead anyway.
We end up back at the clubhouse, parking beside the deck as the sound of music booms into the night. We don’t do quiet, cloistered wakes here on the compound. Oh no. There’ll be drinking and smoking and fucking. Basically, it’s my wedding reception all over again—kegs and cocaine included. Nobody’s worried this time. Not only do we have plenty of the antidote, just in case, but the Grey Wolfe Mafia has undergone a change of hands.
I don’t know how he did it, but Grey has stepped into his father’s expensive loafers like he was born to be there. The last time I saw him, it was over video chat and were negotiating a tentative peace.
The main road that runs through Ashbury is actually part of a major highway that cuts the state in half. It runs from the Oregon coast and into Idaho. We’ve decided that it’s a boundary line. For the time being, we’re going to continue our operations on the northern half while the mafia works in the southern half. The only exceptions are major highways that run from north to south.
The casino, which is set on reservation land, is neutral ground.
No more laundering there. Control has been relinquished back to the tribe. For now, it’s a meeting place if ever the club and the mafia need to talk in person.
I don’t know how long this is going to last, but I do know one thing: in order for this peace to break, either Grey or I will have to die. That puts a pretty big price on both of our heads.
“Wife?” Beast asks as I blink myself out of my stupor. He’s holding out a hand, offering to help me off of the bike.
