As soon as our door opens, they are there, firing questions and taking pictures. It’s not the first time. We manage to avoid the press frequently, but being the bachelors of the city, as they call us, it happens every now and again. I know Ryder and Kenzo had to deal with it for their mother’s funeral too.
But we know how to handle it.
Ryder takes Roxy’s hand. We already decided to present her with him to the press to keep her safe and the questions at bay. He slips out and wraps an arm around her, ignoring the cameras as I push through, with Diesel and Kenzo behind them, to part the crowd. We walk quickly, but not too fast, to the church, only relaxing when the door shuts.
Heading down the aisle, we take one of the front pews, and I glance over to see Sam’s widow alone on the other side. Tears slowly roll down her cheeks, and her eyes are faraway. Her hands are clenched together in her lap, trying to hold it together. Roxy follows my gaze and sucks in a breath before getting to her feet.
I grab for her, but she sidesteps my hand and, ignoring the people staring, she covers the distance and sits next to Sam’s widow, silently taking her hand and holding it. The woman glances over in shock, but Roxy doesn’t talk or prod, just sits there for her.
We nod at Tony, and he goes and sits on the woman’s other side. I hate that Roxy is so far away, but I know why she did it—so Sam’s wife wouldn’t be alone. I can’t protest or drag her back though, because the ceremony starts.
It’s a good one as far as funerals go, and when we are directed to the cemetery nearby, Roxy finally heads over to us and leans into Ryder’s side. He kisses her cheek and follows everyone out of the church, where the cameras are still waiting, photographing everything, the bright bulbs flashing and making me growl. I once smashed their cameras, I’m tempted to now, but I can’t. This isn’t about us.
Not today.
So I endure it, but I stick close to Roxy just in case. We circle around her, creating a protective bubble as we head through the grass and old stones. While we walk across the grass, Roxy finally speaks. “I was alone at Rich’s funeral, no one should go through that alone,” she whispers.
We say nothing, but we press closer, hating that she was alone when she needed us. If only we found her sooner, but she’s right, we can’t change the past, only how we act in the future, and Roxy will never be alone again.
We all stand in the wind around the grave as the coffin is lowered into it. When it’s over and people start to disappear, Roxy leans down and throws some dirt on the wood. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice choked.
“Baby,” I murmur.
She stands and looks over at us, tears in her eyes and anger vibrating from her body. There is nothing we can do to help, and I hate that. I feel fucking useless. My fists clench at my sides with the need to hurt, to destroy, and help. But she needs softness, kindness right now, and I don’t know how to offer that.
She doesn’t care that we have no softness. She reaches for us anyway.
There, with cameras and the eyes of the city on us, she reaches for all of us. We all share a look. We are not embarrassed by our relationship, and anyone who has anything to say can die, but we didn’t want her reputation ruined. We are helpless, however, when it comes to her. So Diesel presses to her side, and I hold her hand as Ryder presses against her back. Kenzo grips her other hand.
With her in the middle of us all, I hear gasps and whispers, but we don’t care. This isn’t about us today, but a man who gave his life to save ours. A true fucking hero.
Chapter Sixty-One
KENZO
Roxy is quiet today, and these idiots don’t know how to act. Ryder offered money to the widow. Garrett offered to hurt someone. Diesel offered to kill someone. They all look flabbergasted when it didn’t work. Shaking my head, I sweep Roxy into my arms and lay down on the sofa, gripping her tightly.
“It’s okay, darling, we are here,” I whisper to her, and she buries her head in my chest, twists her hands in my shirt, and cries.
I hold her through it, stroking her back and kissing her head, telling her we are here, that we love her, that I’m sorry. Her tears do funny things to my heart though, making it ache. They affect the others as well. Garrett mumbles about going to fight. Ryder seems helpless and stares at me in pain. Diesel growls and storms away, probably to kill someone.
But she doesn’t need that right now, she just needs to feel, so I let her, and when she finally lifts her head, I brush her tears away and press kisses to her face. “I love you, darling.”
“I love you too,” she whispers, her voice thick before lowering her head again.
That’s how she falls asleep in my arms, and I look to Ryder, who watches her with his face contorted in pain. “You knew what to do,” he murmurs lowly, so as not to wake her.
I nod, and he sighs, scrubbing his face. “I didn’t.”
“You don’t have to know how to do everything, she needs us all,” I whisper, and he nods and gets to his feet.
“I’m going to work. I’ll check in on her bar and everything. Let me know if she needs anything.” He walks away then, almost running.
These idiots. When faced with tears, they turn into scared little boys. I don’t tell her about the breaking stories and gossip spreading about us all. Everyone wants to know about the woman who tamed the Vipers. The picture of her between us at the funeral is being spread everywhere. Ryder put protections in place, of course, and keeps her identity a secret so they can’t dig up her past and hurt her.
But every eye is on us now. Everyone wants to be her.
But all we want is her.
Our Roxy.
“Kenzo?” she whispers, half asleep.
Shifting, I pull her closer. “Hey, darling.” She blinks her eyes open and looks up at me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to cry all over you.” She sighs.
“Cry all over me anytime, Rox.” I grin. “It’s an excuse to keep you close.”
She snorts and rolls over, so I flip onto my side and hold her in my arms as she absentmindedly traces her finger across my chest. “I guess it brought it all back. I kept seeing Rich—” She hiccups, and I hold her tighter. “It’s easy sometimes to not think about it, to just keep busy so I don’t have to, but I couldn’t today—”
“That’s okay, darling, you’re allowed to miss him. You are allowed to hurt, you loved him,” I soothe, and then deciding now is the time, I pull the picture from my pocket and hand it over. “I thought this might be important, I took it the day we took you.”
She grabs the photo and stares down at it, tears filling her eyes again, even as she smiles. “He was a fucking hard man, so gruff and snappy, but God, I miss that. I miss his ‘hey, girl, get yo ass over here.’ He would pretend he didn’t care, but whenever I needed him, he was there. Never judging, just understanding.”
“He sounds like an amazing man. I wish I could have met him.”
She nods, brushing her hand over the photo. “Thank you for bringing it.”
“Always. Tell me more about him?” I request.
She sighs and looks at me. “He would have hated you guys, probably would have tried to kill you. I remember this one time I brought a guy back—”