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“Me, too, old man,” Myles whispers.
Neither of us moves to get up and head to bed. We stay with our father and grandpa for the last time. Lost Souls till they died, and in death.
Chapter Seventeen
Aspen
Irun the brush through Kyla’s damp hair and hold the dryer close by. She hasn’t said a word all day, and Emma and I helped bathe her when it became obvious she wasn’t going to move either.
She stares into the mirror, and though I’m doing my best to focus on making her hair pretty, though she won’t care, I can’t help but be sucked into her sadness.
“Do you want to wear black or colour?” Emma asks her, holding up two dresses.
She turns her head and points to the black dress. “Of course, Pope was nothing but traditional.”
I meet Emma’s eye and shake my head. Kyla doesn’t need small, awkward talk. She wants to be in her own head, lost in memories and swimming in her pain. It’s only natural, and she should be able to do it peacefully. Once her hair is dry, I clip it back and tuck in the shorter strands. Between Emma and I, we help her into her dress and slide her heels onto her feet.
At the last minute, Emma dabs a little perfume on her wrists and on the base of her throat.
“If Pope were here, he’d tell you that you look beautiful. He was proud to be your father, and he always will be,” I tell her, and I receive a small smile, but as soon as it appears, it disappears.
Preparations are still being made to lay Ricky to rest. Today is to celebrate Pope’s life, in all its violent and loyal glory, as he’s laid to rest out back on Lost Souls land.
Mason and Myles were up from six this morning, out back digging his grave. Zach and Leo offered to do it for them, but they said it was their duty, though they both shouldn’t be doing heavy manual work.
Brothers, old ladies, and even the children fill the bar as Kyla holds onto me, walking down the stairs—the brothers wearing black tees and black hoodies under their cuts. Pope, in his open coffin, lies upon the bar. Mason and Myles stood on either end of him.
Alannah and Bonnie come over and lead Kyla over to stand with them and Kristen. It’s not often I see her around, but everyone shows up for a funeral. She would’ve come today to be at her husband’s side. One thing about the club is that when one goes down, everybody falls together. The way it should be.
Loneliness, to me, is the worst place to be in this life. Friends, family, they’re the ones who are there when the rest of the world tries to press you down relentlessly.
“Let’s get this started. Pope will start to fuckin’ haunt us if we keep him waiting around much longer,” Cas hollers, and a few brothers murmur in agreement.
Emma takes hold of my hand, and together, we stand by and watch Cas, Leo, Sparky, Slade, Myles, and Mason take hold of Pope’s coffin and hoist him up onto their shoulders. Kyla splits off from the old ladies and wraps her arm around Victoria, thenfollows Pope out with the brothers falling in line behind them. The old ladies are last to step outside. The sky is grey, and dark clouds slowly drift by above us. It’s like nature knows who we’re burying today.
A chill ripples through me, and I shudder to ward it off. The procession is solemn, and I’m not surprised when we stop by what’s known as Victoria’s favourite tree. I don’t think she even knows how many hours she’s spent sitting beneath its branches.
A row of chairs are set up in a row. I tug on Emma’s hand to make our way to Kyla and Victoria, but the chairs are taken up by the old ladies by the time we reach them.
It’s Emma’s turn to tug on my head. When I look at her, she motions for us to move. We ended up sitting on the grass off to their side. Brothers surround the grave, shoulder to shoulder.
Mason and Myles stay close to the grave after Pope’s been lowered into it. I catch Mason’s eye, and he nods, and I nod in return.
Victoria kisses her mom on the cheek and rises from her chair. She moves to stand by the grave, careful not to step on any of the flowers she’s laid out.
I don’t know who, but someone has been out, and between the flower arrangements, they have placed bottles of whiskey.
“There are many layers to a person, usually… my grandpa had only three. One layer was for his family, for me and my mom. His smiles were so rare that when he did smile, you soaked it in and stored it in your heart. Those were reserved for Mom and me. His second layer was for my brothers. His bond with his grandsons was unbreakable. There was nothing in this world they couldn’t achieve in his eyes. Not many people saw the softer side to him, and honestly, his softer side wasn’t that much noticeable to most—only those who knew him.
His last layer was pure Lost Souls. Knowing my grandpa, it was the first thing he thought about in the morning and the lastthing he thought about at night. He once told me that he could sleep at night because he knew the club, even when they faced uncertainty and hard times, was strongest together, and what they faced, they did so together. He also knew that the daughter he raised was safe and protected by our father, and then in turn, when me and my brothers were grown up, I had you all looking out for me, and my brothers were the ones people feared. He always lived his life being able to sleep at night…” She chokes on a sob but collects herself well and continues, “I look around today, and I see people who loved my grandpa. Who spent years, decades, with him. There’s not one of you that he wouldn’t have fought for… died for. He shared the patch with you, and it was the biggest honor of his life. He was proud to stand with every brother in this club, and if he had the chance to do so again, he wouldn’t change a thing. He’ll be missed greatly, never forgotten, and always loved.”
She plucks one of the flowers from her hair and presses a small kiss to the petals before throwing it down onto his coffin. She joins her mom, and Kyla smiles. She doesn’t say a word, though.
Cas steps up beside Kyla and squeezes her shoulder in support. He moves to the head of the grave.
“The first time I met Pope, I was an arrogant little fuck who didn’t give a shit about anything. He didn’t say a word to me for months, but I felt him watching. Assessing. Weighing up who I was without actually asking me. It didn’t take me long to learn he had the same kinda darkness I had, and when I knew we had something in common, I knew he’d be a brother for life. Next to Oak, he was my biggest backer taking the president’s patch, and I’m proud that I didn’t let him down and cause him regret. I said it before, but Pope was truly one of a kind, and not one of us will ever meet a soul like him again.”
He leans down and picks up one of the whiskey bottles. Unscrewing the cap, he tips the bottle over the grave and pours the entire contents out. The sound of the liquid hitting the wooden coffin is like a drill in my head until it’s all gone.
