Page 14 of Beautifully Shattered (Secrets & Scars #3)

“Have I made you feel like you have to choose between me and your club?” I whisper, scared my voice might crack if I try to say it any louder.

Ringo shakes his head, his thumb gliding over my lower lip like he can’t stand the thought of not touching me.

“No, Angel. It’s more like I dread dragging you deeper into this world. I dread tainting you. Ruining you.”

“I’m already ruined,” I deadpan. “That’s something no one can save me from now.”

“Fuck. I know.” His jaw ticks. “And I fucking hate that.”

“Can you love me the way I am now?” I ask, needing honesty more than reassurance, and he jerks back, scowling at me.

“I can love you any way you are, Angel. But you’ll heal. The anger you carry won’t always burn like this.”

“And if it does? Can you still love me if I’m a heartless bitch?”

His lips kick up into a smirk. “The answer is fuck yes . But just so we’re clear. I don’t think you are, or could ever be, a heartless bitch.” He leans in slightly. “Besides, I could always demand you to behave.”

My heart does a little somersault at that, because damn him, the submissive in me is still lurking.

It never used to be obvious to me, but it is now that he pointed it out weeks ago.

“I’d like to see you try,” I tease, pushing the boundaries just enough to test him, and for a moment, something inside me lifts.

The heaviness in my chest eases. That one moment of banter feeds me.

“Hmmm. There’s that brat who only shows her face every so often.” He grins right as the music fades behind us. “Shit. Come on. We’ve got to get back to the wall for the last part.”

Ringo releases me, quickly slipping on his t-shirt and vest, which he calls a cut, before taking my hand and leading us back into the thick of the crowd.

We watch as Smitty steps forward, carrying each metal box holding the essence of each fallen Southern Sadist to the memorial wall. And one by one, he slots them into the opening in the stone.

Spud steps up next, securing metal plates over the front of each opening, engraved with their names.

For a moment, Ringo’s breath hitches, his shoulders go tight and his eyes gloss over with welling tears.

The sight makes my chest ache. I hate seeing him in pain. Just like last night by the lake. Seeing him shattered like that was torture.

It’s easy to forget he’s human.

When you look at him, with those thick corded muscles, wide shoulders, and towering height… well, he doesn’t look like he can break. He looks like he was built to carry pain. Not feel it.

But he does.

And when those wet eyes drop to mine, and he pulls me close, burying his face in my hair, holding me like he’ll drown if he lets go… I know without a doubt that this man feels it all.

“Life is a fucking gift, Angel,” he murmurs so only I can hear. “It’s so easy to take it for granted. So fucking easy to forget that in the blink of an eye, it can all end.”

I don’t know if he’s reminding me or himself.

Maybe both. But either way, it doesn’t matter. I believe him, even if the idea of life being a gift makes me feel sick.

My life doesn’t feel like a gift.

But those few minutes of Bobbi’s life, when I held her to my chest, felt her tiny warmth, the soft squirm of her little body, and heard the faintest sound slip from her lips… well, that was surely the greatest gift of my life. Even if it was only a moment.

Instead of speaking, I just hold Ringo tighter, gripping him like I can transfer everything I feel through that squeeze. I can only hope it’s enough to show him that I care.

When he pulls back, threading his fingers through mine, our eyes lock, and we just look at each other.

He’s still hurting. I see it in the dullness of his eyes. The way they aren’t lit up with his usual fire.

Lifting our joined hands, I bring his to my lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Fuck, I love you.” His voice is low, but sure, and for a split second, that fire flickers back to life in his eyes.

I can’t say the words back right now. It’s not that I don’t feel them. God, I do. But they get stuck in my throat. So instead, I lower his hand and press it to my chest, right over my heart .

It’s been cold there since Bobbi was lifted off me. Since I lost her. But last night, when I did this with Ringo as we cuddled in bed together, something shifted. That warmth returned, and it’s back now, the empty ache slipping away.

Like he senses it, Ringo pulls me into his arms again, crushing me to him. He buries his nose in my hair like he’s trying to breathe me in. Memorising me.

I do the same, pressing my face into his chest and inhaling that sharp, masculine scent of his. Spice and sweat and safety.

It grounds me. Makes me feel at home. Making it feel like he is my home.

We stay in each other’s arms as Smitty says a few more words, his voice carrying over the crowd. Then, one by one, the club brothers climb onto the motorbikes that belonged to the fallen.

With my cheek pressed to Ringo’s chest, I watch the men start up the bikes and steer them off to the side.

A moment later, the engines roar to life, a thunderous growl that tears through the silence, and in perfect unison, they take off, kicking up a cloud of dirt and smoke.

It’s a send-off. A tribute. A final burnout in honour of their dead.

Exhaust smoke fills the air, choking the sky like the grief swelling in their chests.

In my chest.

“Southern Sadists!” Smitty bellows as the engines shut down a moment later. “We chant!”

I straighten in Ringo’s arms, but he keeps his arms locked around me, holding me still as his voice rumbles against my cheek, through the wall of his chest .

“May the road rise up to meet us. May the wind be always at our backs. May the sunshine be warm upon our faces. May the rain clouds never be black. We are the Southern Sadists MC. Ride ‘em high. Ride or die.”

God… these men and their club… it’s so beautiful. So poetic.

Their unity is everything I’ve craved in my life.

People who have my back. Who love me even if I’m broken.

I get what the Southern Sadists are now. And I want that.

I only hope what I’m about to do here tonight is something they can forgive.