Unchain My Heart(69)

The man at the front was unfamiliar, yet I knew exactly who he was. His features were very similar to Ratbag’s—down to the light-brown long hair curling on his neck—but he had a stockier build and broader shoulders than lanky Ratbag. Ryder had told me over the phone that Ratbag’s family couldn’t come from Australia, only his younger brother from Sydney who happened to be in the U.S. for a surf championship, so he could easily get to L.A. within a few days. That explained the killer tan.

My heart squeezed in my chest as each of the boys got up to say something special about Ratbag. It was clear that the brothers loved the young man.

Halfway through the proceedings, I saw Ryder’s eyes widen. I turned my head to see Harrison and Savage slip in the back. Ryder nodded in acknowledgment. It was hardly perceivable, but Harrison did the same small nod back at Ryder as their eyes locked over our heads.

Maybe, just maybe this could work out. Maybe my brother and my lover could see eye to eye. I could only hope. I still believed in miracles.

Finally, it was Ryder’s turn. He went up to the front and stood behind the small podium.

I'd never heard him address a small gathering before. He’d worn a black shirt and a thin leather tie for the funeral instead of his standard uniform of jeans and T-shirt with his cut. He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, and I felt my core clench as I stared longingly at his forearms, thick and veined, where the cobra tattoo ran up his arm. My eyes widened as I noticed the new tattoo. It was a flag of Australia in the shape of the continent with the letters R.I.P. just under it.

Ryder must have felt my eyes on him, because he glimpsed in my direction, a small smile on his lips, which sent my heart fluttering. I loved him when he was brash and cocky, but I loved him even more when he was vulnerable and let his tough-guy guard down in time like these.

He cleared his throat. “Ratbag wouldn’t have wanted us to be sad. He loved life and everything about it. We talked about death, and I’ll never forget when he said to me that when his time comes, he wants his friends and family to celebrate his life, not mourn death.”

Ryder looked around the room and smiled. “You know what I said to him when he talked about his death? I said, ‘Ratbag, only the good die young.’ Yeah.” His voice became thick, and I could tell he was struggling to bite back the tears.

“Bruce Williams was a good man . . . a special man. I knew that from the minute I met him. He was the most generous person I’d ever met—he’d sleep naked so someone else could sleep warm. He’d go hungry so someone else had a full belly. It was just the way he was.” Everyone clapped and cheered. “There isn’t a person in this room who hasn’t been touched by Ratbag’s kindness in one way or another. My friend would want a damn party, so we are going to give him a party tonight at the compound. Everyone is invited.”

Some backslapping took place between Ryder and Ratbag’s brother. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose a brother.

Watching him stand there, so vulnerable as tears flowed openly down his cheeks, I knew Ryder was crying for more than the loss of his friend. In a way I knew it would be liberating for him to let the sorrow go. Women had known for centuries that crying helped a person cope better, but men—especially ones like these bikers—saw it as a sign of weakness. It was testimony to Ryder’s big heart that he didn’t care if he was soft today. I looked around the room, and to my surprise, most of the men were wiping their eyes or rubbing their noses.

They were human after all.





Chapter Forty-Nine — Jade


Standing at the graveside, hooked into my father on the one side and Mia on the other, I watched as the first spade of dirt hit the coffin with a thud. Ryder was doing the honors. He’d avoided my gaze since we came from the funeral parlor, but I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He was trying to be the strong man he always was, but I knew he was thinking of Peanut as he shoveled the dirt.

Ryder wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his shirtsleeve. His mouth was set in a thin, determined line, a mixture of sorrow and rage on his face. I wanted so badly to go over and hold him, to put my arms around his neck and kiss his face, then to take him home and feed him, because I knew he wouldn’t have eaten a decent meal in days, and finally rub his back until he fell asleep in my arms.

But I couldn’t. I had to pretend that I was okay standing here while my man was hurting and my heart was breaking.

Mia trembled badly, so I led her to a bench and got her to sit down before she collapsed. Jamie was still missing and we’d heard nothing: no ransom, no demands for anything. It didn’t make sense and it was eating my friend alive not knowing what had happened to her boy.