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“In case it’s escaped your notice,” I said coldly, narrowing my eyes at her. “I haven’t had time to doanything. Since the moment I arrived, it’s been one fiasco after another.”

“Disastersyoucaused!” She screamed at me.

“Oh, yeah, because I was responsible for Macbeth planting bombs in the clubhouse. Silly me!”

“Excuse me. Mrs King?” came a soft voice. We all turned in the direction of the interruption.

“Yes?” she said, her breathing ragged.

“I’m so sorry—”

I didn’t hear anymore. All I could hear was the screaming as Mama dropped to her knees and screamed as though the very soul had been ripped from her body.

Crash was dead.

And Dante was the newpresident.

Chapter 57

Rachel

Two weeks later, I stood at Dante’s side as we laid Crash to rest.

“In The Stars” by Benson Boone played out of the speakers as we walked through the club grounds, heading towards the graveyard. Dante led the way, pushing Crash’s prized motorbike behind the hearse carrying the coffin, whilst we trailed behind him.

Mama was a wreck. She hadn’t spoken a word in the two weeks since Crash had passed. In fact, she had barely left her room. She wasn’t eating; she wasn’t sleeping. All she seemed to do was lay on her back and stare at the ceiling. Even I had begun to feel sorry for her and tried taking food into her, but whenever I went to collect it later on, she had barely touched it.

She had lost the will to live when Crash had gone. I didn’t know how to handle it. I tried to remember what my therapist had once told me about the grieving process and reminded myself there were steps. No one could say how long those steps would take, and all we could do was show Mama we were here for her and let her come to us when she was ready.

Bee wasn’t much better. She had lost a man she considered her uncle, she had lost her Papa, and she may as well have lost her grandma as well, since Mama was currently no better than a corpse that just hadn’t died yet.

Men from charters up and down the country had travelled to pay their respects and were either walking with us or slowly riding their bikes at the back of the line.

They had been arriving over the last couple of days, and upon every group's arrival, they had gone straight to church and had their secret meetings.

Meetings I was no longer privy to.

Dante rarely told me anything anymore, and it truly felt as though I had lost a piece of him when his dad died.

The first night, we went home, and I watched with the rest of the old ladies as he was sworn in as president. It was a formality more than anything and basically involved the rest of the club voting him in, and him accepting his responsibilities. There was then a change in rank.

Vienna was the new vice president, which was no surprise. A man called Riley had taken over as peacemaker. I had rarely spoken to Riley and actually wasn’t even aware of his existence in the club. Jenna had grinned at me when I whispered this and said that’s what made him so perfect. He stuck to the shadows, seeing, hearing, but never making himself known. He’d be the perfect guy to deal with rats and moles.

Hacksaw kept his job as secretary, which was ideal for him, as he loved dealing with computers. Shark had graduated from roadrunner to treasurer, which had been Macbeth’s job. We soon found out that Macbeth had been paying the Rider’s for their protection long before shit hit the fan. That’s another reason they had been so keen to help him. They were struggling financially, and Macbeth’s pin money was the perfect aid to keep them afloat.

Trent had replaced Shark as road runner, and Ant became the new Sergeant at arms.

Doc was still the doc; Tools continued to work the garage – although they were closed for the mourning period. Sunshine helped out at the garage, same as he always did. Monster was still in charge of the dogs. James graduated from prospect to full-blown, patched in member. That left Chicken, Rooster, Liam and Chris bringing up the numbers.

They were recruiting for more prospects, and they had a few lads hanging around as potentials, but I hadn’t bothered to get to know any of them.

Malfoy – Noob – had crawled out of the woodwork and had sent a letter offering his condolences.

Twit. Who the fuck sent letters in this day and age?

Vienna had ridden to wherever he was hiding and offered him a role back in the club, and apparently Malfoy was thinking it over. He just didn’t want to arrive whilst tempers were flared.

Understandable, really.

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