Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(84)

But I wouldn’t have taken anything else for having my brothers welcome me back to life in the only way they really knew how. I sure as hell didn’t think I would come in to hugs and tears. That shit was for pussies and the Raiders women.

“I think this calls for a round to celebrate,” Bishop said, jerking his chin at Cheyenne. When I followed his gaze to her, I registered the grief-stricken expression on her face. While she was glad to have me back, she knew she would never have me. My body and, most important, my heart now belonged to Alexandra. Breaking eye contact with me, she got busy pouring beers.

“We’re going to need to sit down in the next hour for church. We need to get you up to speed on all that’s happened the last couple of days,” Rev said.

“Sure, man. Whatever we need to do.” I took in the newly sewn PRESIDENT patch on his cut.

Glancing over Rev’s shoulder, I saw Kim sitting on one of the barstools. In her black jeans, black boots, and black T-shirt, she looked every bit the part of a biker widow. My throat clenched like someone had grabbed me by the neck and cut off my air supply. I would have rather faced down Sigel in a dark alley than have to see her. Picking up one of my feet, I slowly made my way over to her.

When I reached her, tears streamed down her cheeks. “Thank God you’re alive,” she said before she began sobbing hysterically. She threw herself into my arms. She pressed her face into my chest, her cries becoming muffled. But in my head, I heard them just as f*cking loudly as if a cannon were going off around me.

“I’m sorry, Kim,” I murmured into her ear. “I’m so f*cking sorry.”

Pulling away, she stared up at me. “I know you are.”

“I want you to know I didn’t run out on him. Because of Alex’s wild-ass puppy, I didn’t even get in the house.”

Kim pressed her palm against my cheek. “Oh, honey. I know you wouldn’t have ever sacrificed Case. You loved him as much as he loved you.”

I groaned as the tears I forcefully fought burned my throat and stung my eyes. “I did love him. I loved him like a father—like I loved Preacher Man.” I took her hand from my face and placed it over my heart. “I swear to you that I will protect and provide for you and his kids. Anything you need, you just ask.”

Kim’s expression momentarily darkened. Instead of sadness, anger burned in her eyes. “The only thing I ask of you is to never, ever let one of my sons patch into this club. No matter how bad they want what their daddy had, you don’t let them in.” She shook her head. “I won’t lose my babies like I lost their daddy.”

My mind went to their thirteenand fifteen-year-old sons, Ben and Eric. Since they were little, they’d been at every Raiders family function. They often begged Case to let them come during the week. All they had ever known was a father who was an MCer. I couldn’t imagine even trying to deny them when the time came. I hoped that by then Kim’s grief would have lessened and she would change her mind.

But in this moment, I had to do whatever I could to comfort her. “You have my word.”

“Thank you, Deacon,” she replied, leaning up to bestow a kiss on my cheek.

A beer was thrust into each of our hands. I searched the crowd for Alexandra. When I found her, I motioned for her to come to me. With a shy smile, she wove in and out of the people to join me.

Bishop raised his glass. “To my brother Deacon, who I always knew was a *, but since he seems to have nine lives, he now confirms it.”

Laughter went up around the room. Before we could take a sip, Bishop held up his hand. “And to the memory of one of the finest f*cking presidents the Raiders ever had. To Case.”

“To Case,” echoed around the room.

With tears streaking down her cheeks, Kim set her beer down on the bar and headed down the hallway to her and Case’s old room. “I’ll go to her,” Alexandra said.

“Thanks, babe.”

I downed my glass in three foamy chugs. Then I headed straight to the boardroom. I knew that Rev wouldn’t rest easy until he was able to unload everything on me. My brothers followed me one by one into the room.

A freaky feeling, almost like a trippy flashback, pricked its way over me as I watched Rev take a seat in Case’s old chair. I’d never given much thought to how much Rev looked like Preacher Man until I saw him sitting there with a gavel in his hand. I took my usual seat. Bishop eased in beside me.

Even though I’d been gone only three days, a lot of shit had happened. We had Case’s funeral to deal with. It had been decided to wait until the weekend, so that more out-of-town members and other clubs could pay their respects. Selfishly, I almost wished that I had missed the whole damn thing. I didn’t want to have to deal with all the emotions that I knew the final good-bye would bring up. A double dose of guilt ate its way through me. Guilt for my feelings about not wanting to give Case the proper respect as well as the fact that it could have been me boxed up in an urn. I’d outsmarted the Grim Reaper many times, but this last time, I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

“I say we hold off on patching in the prospects and voting on officers until next week. I don’t want it to look like we’re business as usual when we’re in mourning for Case,” Rev said before glancing around the table to gauge our reaction.

Mac nodded. “I second that.”