I’d been staying with Colt the past week as he, and the rest of the BDMC, prepared to say their final goodbyes to their lost brothers. I didn’t go with him as he helped the families with arrangements and tried to comfort his brothers’ wives and children as much as he could. I’d have helped but I didn’t want to force myself on the club if I wasn’t welcome, nor did I want place him in an uncomfortable position.
When Colt was away helping the families of his fallen friends, what happened to his brothers’ weighed heavily on my conscious. Intellectually I knew their deaths weren’t my fault, but that was small comfort and did little to alleviate my guilt. Until today, when Colt wasn’t with me, I had a shadow from the BDMC, and to a man, each still seemed concerned for me and my safety. I always assured them I was fine and made sure I gave full credit to them. Thankfully, there hadn’t been even a hint of looming violence, and I began to relax, praying the danger had something to do with the sounding and drilling, and the violence was finally behind me.
A couple days after we returned to Rio Lago, Goose and Big Dick were elevated to Vice-President and Sergeant-at-Arms respectively. When he wasn’t dealing with club business, Colt was scrambling to catch up on work. He allowed me to tag along as he performed repair calls on wells or wrote estimates for potential customers. I was itching to get back to Houston and the lab so I could start looking at the core samples the drill rig would be bringing up soon, but that wasn’t as important as me paying my respects to the men who’d saved my life.
I heard the rumble of far-off Harley’s and I turned in the direction of the sound with the others gathered. Colt left early this morning, and for the first time since Aunt Pam hired the BDMC to protect me, I was unguarded. He’d left me the keys to his truck, along with address of the cemetery, and I’d driven myself to the gravesite.
The rumble of the bikes grew louder.
Despite the pall hanging over us, I was enjoying Colt’s company more than any man’s I’d ever been with. We hadn’t fucked again since our time in the shower… but we’d been making love every night. I hadn’t realized how stark a difference there was between the two until these last few days. Our passion had only increased, but instead of taking pleasure from my lover, I was giving it, and Colt was multiplying and giving it back in return. After our soft cries were finished, and our breathless passion ended, we lay in a tangled heap, speaking little as we caressed each other before I fell asleep. Even better than the falling asleep after a night of bliss was waking up with him tucked into my back with his arms around me the next morning. I couldn’t be sure, but the gentleness of his touch, and the way he sometimes looked at me, it seemed to me he felt the bond between us forming as well. I wasn’t ready to admit I was falling in love with him, but I couldn’t deny we seemed to share a connection, a connection I’d never had with anyone else.
The rumble of the Buitre del Demonio motorcycles grew louder and closer. Moments later, the BDMC appeared, nine brothers riding in front and nine behind the three gleaming black hearses. It’d been decided that all three brothers would be laid to rest at the same service, at Fish’s gravesite, before Juice and Grace’s coffins were transported to their own sites for internment.
The funeral for Fish, Grace, and Juice was the same as it was for Packard. After the remaining members of the BDMC escorted hearses to a stop, they divided into three teams of six before carrying their brothers in a line to Fish’ gravesite.
I’d first heard Colt’s eulogy last night when he practiced it. As he spoke over the caskets, like last night, I couldn’t hold my tears and his voice became thick and jagged with emotion as he remembered his brothers and friends. After he’d struggled through his tribute, he removed three pins from his vest, one at a time, and carefully placed one on each of the caskets of his friends and brothers. His task finished, he crouched in front of each family. As he spoke softly to Lucia, Juice’s wife, his face twisted with anguish, and I began to cry again as I felt his grief. He hugged the woman fiercely before moving to Grace’s wife. As he crouched, his pain became too much for him bear, and he broke, sobbing softly as he pulled Maddy to him and held her tight.
Standing among the men’s friends and family, I sobbed silently, wishing there was a way I could take away some of his pain. After a moment, he managed to collect himself and say what he had to. After hugging Maddy again, he rose and moved to Fish’s mother and sister, his only two family members present. I’d thought Fish was married until last night when Colt told me he was divorced and his daughter lived with his ex-wife. His mother and sister had driven from Amarillo and would be his only family attending. Fish’s father, though living, was in poor health and couldn’t travel. He spoke briefly to both women, clearly struggling to keep his composure, before he hugged them each in turn and stepped away to stand beside the coffins.
I watched as each member of the BDMC repeated his ritual of placing of the pins and speaking to the families. Not all the men cried, but it was clear that all were struggling with their sorrow. My attention flicked between his brothers giving their condolences and Colt. He stood stiff, his face hard as he stared at nothing, clearly striving to keep his composure. He succeeded, but I failed, and I wept silently for the families… and for Colt.
As the service ended, I made my way to Colt’s truck. I felt slightly sick. The club, and their families, were gathering at the BDMC clubhouse. While I wanted to be there for Colt, and to pay my respects to the families, I was still concerned that I wasn’t welcome and my presence would be a disturbance.
I pulled into the parking lot in the middle of a group of cars as wives, girlfriends, and other family members convoyed to the clubhouse. I nearly wilted with relief when I saw Colt standing at the door, greeting each person as they arrived.
He saw me as I exited his truck, and I held back so that I was the last to approach. Another group of cars were pulling into the parking lot, but I had a moment alone with Colt before more family approached.
“Thank you for coming. You look nice.”
I came prepared for the funerals and was wearing a black dress that fell slightly below my knees with a shallow scoop neck and sleeves that stopped just above my elbow, two-inch black pumps, and the string of pearls Aunt Pam gave me when I graduated high school.
“Thank you. I’m just sorry for the reason.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Okay at the moment. Fish, Grace, and I go back a long way. We joined within a year of each other. They called us The Three Musketeers for a while.”
I glanced behind me to see where the people who’d just arrived were. I still had a few moments. “Is there anything I can do?”