“Ryan,” I heard his voice in the distance. “Ryan,” softer now.
Below me, light moved on the A1 motorway. Streaks of bright white, neon blue, and red. He hadn’t bled when he came off that bike. Not that any of us could see. His face came back to me. Ashen. Aware. Like he knew his luck had finally run out that day.
“Ry.”
It wasn’t his voice. It was hers. Strong but gentle. The sound I’d played over and over in my head when I’d been inside the first time. The second time it wasn’t there anymore, and Magnet filled that space.
Sophie stopped in front of me, suddenly unsure. She was tired emotionally and physically. I felt it too. Just in a different way. The grey in her eyes swirled, flecks of something lighter like the sky above my head. Reaching out, I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her, pressing my face into her neck.
Her hair still held that strawberry scent. Just warmed through now. And her perfume had faded, but I could still smell the understated softness of it beneath the hospital soap and the cold spring air clinging to her clothes. I breathed that smell in deeper, my eyes closing as something inside my chest loosened slightly for the first time since Magnet died. She didn’t pull away, and she didn’t offer any words, she just stood steady and let my tears fall into her neck.
When I lifted my head, the flecks of light in the clouds had turned to bronze, the sun burning through the night. Anotherday. And no Magnet in it. I turned her now so her back was against me, and for the first time I noticed her body shaking in tiny convulsions, our breath billowing out in front of us. Wrapping my arms around her, we watched the traffic build below, the tiny thrum turning to a steady purr.
“I remember him convincing us to ride to Scotland at two in the morning because he’d heard about ‘the best bacon sandwiches in Britain,’ only for the café to be shut when we got there. We sat outside in the freezing cold eating petrol station crisps instead, while he insisted the journey had still been ‘spiritual’.”
Another memory hit before the ache in my chest could settle again.
“First Christmas I was inside in that second stint, he turned up with a card that just said,‘season’s beatings, brother’.” My throat tightened slightly. “Inside it he’d hidden a photo of the bikes lined up outside theDog. Mine had a fucking Santa hat on it. Said he didn’t want me forgetting what freedom looked like.”
“I remember him convincing Baz he could absolutely jump a scrambler over a burnt-out Ford Escort down the industrial estate. Swore blind he’d measured it properly.” I huffed out a laugh against her hair. “He hadn’t. Baz clipped the bonnet and landed in a pile of nettles, screaming like a fucking banshee while Magnet nearly passed out laughing.”
I laughed then. Actually, fucking laughed. And the sound of it nearly broke me in half. We sat in silence again, first morning light rushing across the sky. And I shivered with her.
Sophie patted my leg. “Ready to go home, Ry?”
“Yes, Grey.” I kissed the top of her head. Her hair damp from the dew.
*****
Life felt like it was stuck on fast forward. Days sped by. We kept a rolling watch on Suzy. The women popping in every day with food. Brothers always at her door or in her house. Behind the scenes, the club moved. The Viking and the Reverend checked in regularly as the Bloody Hand body count started to tick upwards and we erased the bastards from British soil. They’d retaliate soon enough. It was just a matter of time.
Coalition meetings grew smaller. MCCs making excuses why they couldn’t attend. I didn’t blame them. Shit was red-hot now, like someone had set a timer on TNT.
Sophie went to work and came home. But never alone. Always one of us with her, and Security Sam was pulling double shifts just to keep eyes on both Emmie and Soph. We were burning the candle at both ends and meeting ourselves coming backwards and I didn’t know how long we could keep that up.
Tonight we were crammed into Magnet and Suzy’s little house again. The thick windowsill of the bay window was littered with cards, carefully placed in lines. I’d never seen so many. Brothers, other MCs, friends of Suzy. Every single one of them outpouring love for him and condolences to her. She sat in an armchair in the corner of the room tonight, covered in a blanket, her skin pale, eyes red.
“Has she eaten today?” I muttered to Fury.
“Heidi says she has.” He shrugged.
“Is she ok?” I turned to Sophie, who was cupping a mug of coffee in her hands, propped on the end of a sofa off to the right.
“Just stress. I’ve checked her blood pressure and listened in on baby an hour ago. They’re both good. It’s just taking its toll on her.”
I hated this as much as watching my brother die. Suzy looked like her spirit was fading away in front of my eyes, and there was fucking nothing I could do to take this pain away. Soph pushed a hot palm into mine and squeezed. I wrapped my fingers in hers, just for a brief second. It didn’t stop the thick knot of emotion currently unravelling in my stomach, but it slowed it down.
“Suzy. We need to think about a funeral date,” Heidi nudged gently.
Her eyes glassed over and she moved her gaze to the window. Focussing somewhere far away that only she could see.
The knock at the door startled everyone, eyes darting to each other and rebounding off.
“Coppers,” Chaos announced, letting the curtain fall back into place at the window.
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Not panic. The air just tightened. Brothers straightening slightly where they sat. Conversations dying half-finished. I saw Soph tense beside me too, her fingers still curled loosely around the coffee mug. Another knock came. Louder this time.
“Don’t let the fuckers in,” Baz muttered from where he leaned against the kitchen doorway.
