I’m fucking lucky to have these men as solid mates. My emotions get the better of me, and my chest tightens. Don’t tear up.
“I don’t know about you boys, but I’m about to eat the crutch out of a low-flying duck,” Stone announces, moving towards the balcony door.
I clear my throat, swallowing my words, before I look like a tool and tell them how I feel again. I want them to know what an important part of my life they are. They know, already. Shut your trap. “Yeah, I’m starved,” I say.
“Grab the room service menu, Stone,” Jones says. Stone moves out of sight, leaving us to watch the last glimmer of sunlight disappearing between the buildings.
“You excited about seeing Soph?” Jones asks.
I flick my head towards him. I can’t stop the dumb-arse smile spreading across my face.
“I miss her,” I admit to him.
Last night was the first night we haven’t slept in the same bed since V died. It was different not having her by my side, but I managed. I felt her absence, but she’s such a fucking bed hog. I actually had a decent night’s sleep.
“I can tell.” Jones moves his chair to face me, the timber legs grating against the tiled floor. “Bro, when are you gonna tell her how you feel?”
My heart constricts in my chest as I stare at his face. Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. It’s the question I ask myself every day, and never come up with an answer. Since V died, I haven’t been able to express my feelings to her. On that day, a part of my heart withered away and died like an injured animal.
I shrug.
“Do you reckon you two are ever gonna sort your shit out and be together, already?”
I’m banking on it.
“I got a room here for tomorrow night, Jones. I don’t plan on being in it alone.”
****
Saturday
We arrive at the church in style in a stretch black Hummer. As we get out one by one, we watch on as a sea of guests filter up the pathway towards the grand old timber doors at the front of the building.
Jones’s parents and Mac greet people as they arrive, and usher them inside.
As we approach the doors, I hold my hand over my inside jacket pocket, hyper aware of the rings tucked inside. I’ve got a pretty fucking important job to do today, and I’m beyond pumped about it. I’ll also be doing it thirty-six days sober, which is a fucking miracle. I’m cool with being at a wedding sober, which is a change, compared to how anxious I was at the bucks. I know I can resist it because I have the support of my friends, but in particular, one very hot, not-so lesbian flatmate who has become such a big part of my life. If I told her how important she’s become to me, I don’t think she’d believe it.
As we round up the last of the cobblestone steps, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, and when I see that it’s the detective, I know I can’t reject the call.
“Jones, I gotta take this. Just give me a sec.”
“Sure. April is gonna be late for sure, anyway.”
“Yeah,” I answer and move around the side of the church.
“Mr De Luca, it’s Detective Senior Constable Coubrough here.” The tone in her voice is exactly as it was that day when she came to my door. Hesitant and laden with empathy. It sends an unwelcome chill right up my spine.
“I can’t talk long,” I say, as I wander down the path through the manicured gardens, kicking rogue stones in my way with my Italian leather shoes.
“I won’t take too much of your time.” She huffs and then pauses. It forces my heart to pump harder in my chest.
“I’m ringing to inform you that we have formally charged an inmate with your brother’s murder. He’s from a rival gang.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” I choke out.
Murder.
Of course I knew that was what had happened, but hearing it from her mouth is a different story altogether. The word means so many things.
That low-life stole my brother. He destroyed what was left of my family. He didn’t care about the consequences of his actions or what it would do to those left behind. He killed my brother in cold blood, whether it be of his own will or bowing to the orders of those above him.
“Is he from the other MC we talked about? The Rebel Raisers?”
“Yes, he is. He’ll appear before the court to answer to the charges on Monday. As far as we’re concerned, we have a watertight case. I never make guarantees when it comes to this type of thing, but I promise you he’ll pay for what he’s done to your family.”
“Can I come to the court and look this fucker in the eye?”
“Do you think you’re ready for that?”
The church bells chime, ringing in my head with thoughts of murder. With quick steps, I walk deeper into the gardens. I can’t fucking think with that racket.
Can I face the cretin that killed my brother? Will it add to the weight of this whole situation, or will it give me some kind of closure?
“You there?” the female voice trills, reminding me she’s still on the line.
“On second thought, I don’t know if I can. This shit is hard enough.”
“I understand. Just to let you know, the coroner’s inquest is now adjourned pending the Criminal Court hearing.”
“Thanks for ringing.”
“If you need anything, please call me.”
“Thanks.”
I turn my phone off and slip it back in my jacket pocket.
I couldn’t protect him out in the real world, and there was no way I could’ve protected him in there. That’s what the custodians are supposed to do. They’re supposed to make sure that people are safe … that they’re not stabbed to death.
From the moment I saw V on that cold metal trolley, guilt has surrounded me in a deathly fog. I failed him and failed my mother.
A giant of a man in a black suit, with a strong jaw and sandy brown hair appears out of nowhere, making me jump.
“Are you De Luca?” he asks in a deep voice.
I wipe the wetness from my cheeks. “Not now, mate.”
“I’m Ryan. Jones sent me out here to—”
“The cops just told me they charged someone with my brother’s murder. I need a fuckin’ minute.”
“Oh, man. Shit,” he curses, running his fingers across his jaw.
“What?”
“Are you Vinnie’s brother?”
“How did you …”
“I’m a cop. I’m really sorry for your loss, man.”
“What the hell do you know about it?”
“I’ve been doing some work on the affiliates of the guy that’s been charged.”
I let out a heavy sigh, and it feels as if part of my spirit has left with it. I’m weary. I’m so over this shit. I don’t know if I have the strength to put on a brave face today, even though I owe it to my friends.
“The only justice for that piece of scum is to let him get raped and bleed out like Vinnie did.”
“I know it’s not much comfort to you right now, but there’s a taskforce working around the clock on this club, among others.”
“Still doesn’t bring him back.”
“You guys, we need to get the hell inside,” Stone says, as he jogs towards us. “Jones is, well, sweating like a manwhore in church.”
“I just needed a minute,” I choke out. I comb my trembling fingers through my hair and suck in a deep breath. “Let’s get this manwhore married, then.”
We slip in the side door to the church and make our way to the groom. The deep lines across Jones’s brow fade as his eyes connect with mine.
“Sorry, Jones. Got some shitty news. I’m good.” I clear my throat and smooth my clammy hands down the lapels of my suit jacket.
“Don’t be. Whatever it is, I’m here for you,” he says, and grips my shoulder, drawing me into a hug.
I bite down on my bottom lip. It’s a fuckin’ struggle not to cry.
Murder.
A slow violin piece fills the expanse of the church, momentarily silencing the chatter amongst guests.
“Would you please stand,” the minister announces. I drag a deep breath through my runny nose, and tell myself to man up.