“I said no,” I bark, whirling on him. “If you’ve got a problem with it, file a grievance at our next church session.”
“No problem,” he says before turning to walk further into the funeral home.
“I’m sorry,” Mellie says softly.
I focus on her, forcing my expression to soften. “For what?”
“Overstepping.”
“You didn’t overstep,” I assure her. “I always want you to speak your mind. I might not always agree or do what you ask of me, but I willalwayslisten and take your thoughts into account.”
“Even if it goes against the club’s interests?”
“Even if.”
“We’re about to get started,” Pastor says as he enters the foyer of the building.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” I tell him.
He disappears, and I grab Mellie’s hand to tug her toward the office where I keep a guitar. She gasps when I sling the strap over my head.
“What?” I ask.
“I didn’t think you were serious when you told me you were gonna sing today.”
“You think I shouldn’t?”
“No, it’s not that.” She scrunches her nose like she’s trying to find the right words. “I just don’t know how you’re gonna get through it. I’d be a blubbering mess.”
“I’ll get through it for Rowdy,” I say simply, and she nods.
We make our way into the chapel, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the casket at the front. It’s standing roomonly, reminding me that my dad made just as many friends as he did enemies over the years. Most of the people who came are KOAMC brothers from other chapters, but there’s also community leaders, business owners, and a few cops. Hell, there are even some rivals who understand that paying your respects to someone doesn’t mean you liked them while they were still breathing.
“He was very loved,” Mellie whispers brokenly.
“Yeah, baby, he was.”
Pastor performs a short service, per the instructions Rowdy wrote down after his motorcycle accident. Every brother in my chapter was required to write down their final wishes back then, and any man who prospects does the same. Death is a certainty, and being part of an outlaw biker club means it can come knocking earlier than it should. We never want our friends and family to have to wonder what to do when we die… grieving is hard enough without having to make important decisions.
When the service ends, I remain with the casket while others file outside. There won’t be a procession, as Rowdy is being buried in the small cemetery behind the funeral home, which is reserved for club members and their family members. We’ll carry the casket to his final resting place, and a more traditional ride will take place when we leave here.
Time passes in a blur, and before I know it, it’s time to say my last goodbye. It registers that Mellie is no longer standing next to me, and for a split second, I panic. Darting my eyes around, I find her leaning into Zombie by the row of Harleys in the funeral home parking lot. Jealousy rears its ugly head, but I shove it way down deep. Like I said to Trick earlier… This isn’t the time or place.
I step forward and drop my chin to stare at the top of Rowdy’s casket. My throat clogs, and tears fill my eyes.
The lyrics of ‘We’re Gonna Ride Again’ flow through my mind, and I imagine my dad straddling his bike with both of his legs and a smile on his face. “We’ll ride together again, Dad.”
15
MELLIE
Iwatch Lyric say goodbye to Rowdy, and it breaks my heart to see him so sad. When he returned to the clubhouse after going into Tacoma earlier today, he was covered in blood, and I worried that whatever happened would somehow ruin the funeral, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“He’ll be okay.”
I nod absently as Zombie hugs me from the side. “I don’t know how to help him.”
“Just be you, Mel.”
