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I stand with my parents on the opposite side of the grave to the Souls, each one of them has their hands crossed in front of them respectfully.

I was pleased to see that when Corey arrived, he had them all following on their bikes.

It’s the send-off Corey would have wanted and one he deserved.

I just hope that wherever he is, he got to see it.

I hope that he can see that I’m standing here crying for him now.

Wishing our last few moments together had been different.

“Is that Raoul Burlusconi?” Mother whispers to Dad as the preacher speaks his words over Corey’s grave.

“It is,” Father answers, looking wary of the tall man standing beside Raze. He looks strikingly handsome in his grey tailored suit, and although I’ve never seen the man in the flesh before, I’ve heard plenty about him.

“It’s like a gangsters' reunion here,” she hisses under her breath, and when Corey's friend, Lex, overhears, he can’t help smirking in my direction.

I don’t know Lex all that well; he’s the kind of guy not many people speak to at school, but Corey always found time for him.

Corey found time for everyone; it was in his nature.

I offer him an embarrassed smile back, and when I glance across the casket toward Dev, I notice that his eyes are fixed on mine. Hooded, dark, and looking like they’re judging me. I close my eyes and lower my head, avoiding the intensity of his stare and continuing to listen to the preacher.

The service eventually comes to an end, and when everyone starts to leave, Dad puts his arm around me and tries to lead me back to the car.

“Wait.” My feet remain still when I realize all the other Souls have left to go to their bikes, and Dev is standing alone. He’s looking so lost and broken, I want to head over and ask him if he’s doing okay.

“Maybe I shoul?—”

“Frank, that's Callum Monkhouse gathered with all those bikers!” Mom's shriek interrupts me and causes Dev to look up from the open ground he’s staring into. “Whatever would Paul say if he saw him with them?”

“Relax, dear, Paul used to work for the club,” Dad whispers assuringly. “I’m assuming Callum is following in his footsteps.”

“Paul? Work for them? Does Hilda know?”

“He doesn’t work for them anymore, he’s retired, and I’m not sure if she knows. Can we just focus on?—”

“I never thought Paul would be involved with such atrocities. Hilda is a valued member of the church committee. She was just elected as our treasurer.”

“I think I might head over and check on Dev.” I’m about to leave them to their discussion, but as I start to move in his direction, my mother grabs my arm and tugs me back.

“No, Millie.” Her fingers dig deep into my skin. “Your involvement with these people is over now. We came here today to show our respect. Let’s put it all behind us now.”

“Mom, he just lost his little brother.” I try to pull my arm away, but her grip is too tight, and when I look back over my shoulder, I see Dev staring over at us like he’s about to commit murder.

“Tell her, Frank.” Mom looks to Dad for support.

“Your mother's right, darling, come on, it’s time to go home.”

I mouth the word sorry to Dev as I get led away by my parents, but he doesn't respond; he just glares back at me with that same look of hate.

“I’m still in shock about Paul.” Mom still hasn’t gotten over the Monkhouse’s dealings with the club as we pull through the gates to home. “And you never thought to tell me, Frank. Honestly, sometimes I worry about you.”

I sit in the backseat and stare out the window, wishing I could’ve headed back to the club with everyone else. I want to share their grief and hear stories about Corey. Maybe I could even have shared some of my own.

“And Callum, I thought that boy was going places. He studied at Harvard. I certainly won’t be giving him any of my business,”

“He’s not a boy, Julie. He’s thirty-two years old.

He’s also a criminal defense lawyer, so I wouldn’t imagine you’d need his business anyway, ” Dad reminds her, looking back at me in the mirror and smiling.

“He actually joined Paul and me for a round of golf on Paul’s birthday last month. He’s a nice guy.”

“Golf! Well, you won’t be playing golf with the Monkhouses anymore. Think of the campaign, Frank. It’s bad enough your daughter was dating one of their brothers. How do you think it will look if people find out you're playing golf with our local gang's legal team?”

I switch off from her voice as we get out of the car and step through the front door.

“I’m going to call Cynthia, she won’t believe it when I tell her what Hilda’s involved in.” Mom struts off to the living room while Dad loiters awkwardly in the hall beside me.

“Are you okay, pumpkin?” he checks, looking concerned.

“I think I’m just going to head to my room and lie down.” I smile back at him, wishing today could just hurry up and be over.

“Okay, sweetheart, you know where we are if you need us.” He kisses the top of my head before heading into his office, while I take the stairs up to my room.

I kick off my shoes and flop onto my bed, closing my eyes and covering my face with my hands.

Maybe it’s wrong of me, but I can’t stop thinking about Dev.

It was heartbreaking to see him standing beside his brother's grave, looking as if his whole world had come apart. I should have fought harder to go to him, even if the look on his face warned me not to. Despite having all his club brothers there to support him today, he looked as lonely as I feel. I could see that he’s weighed down by his guilt and plagued with regret.

All of the things I’m suffering from, myself, and that night we comforted each other, has been the only relief I’ve had from it.

My parents don’t understand how I feel; all that matters to them is the family’s reputation. Do they honestly think this is something a therapist will help get me over?

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I can’t stay here. I’ll go crazy if I do. I need to be around the people who knew Corey. People who are grieving him the same way I am.

I need to be with Dev.

I use my newfound energy to haul my ass off the bed and replace the heels I was wearing with a pair of sneakers.

Then, pushing up my window, I climb over the sill and onto the roof of the laundry room below.

It’s not the first time I’ve done this. I’ve been sneaking out to see Corey after dark since I was fifteen.

The bistro table and chair set, Greg and Rachel use for taking their cigarette breaks is the perfect landing spot as I climb down.

Rushing toward the garden gate, I take out my cell and book an Uber to pick me up at the end of the road.

My adrenaline is pumping fast as I use the path at the back of the houses on our street to get to my pickup spot.

I’m not sure how I’ll be received when I make it to the club.

Last time I was there, Dev told me to leave; he said I didn’t belong there, and although he was probably right, today is different.

Today is about Corey, and I was a big part of Corey’s life.

Dev can’t stop me from being a part of his send-off, too, and he can’t stop me from at least offering him a little comfort.

“You're sure about this?” the Uber driver checks as I open the door to get out at the club gates.

“Very.” I smile at him through the visor mirror before I get out and straighten out my dress. There's no one on the gate as I walk through it toward the arch, and when I step into the yard, that's empty too.

Loud music is coming from inside the clubhouse, and it sounds much more like a party than a funeral reception. Still, I don’t give myself a chance to back out, I open the door and let myself inside.

“Millie!” One of the girls I saw here last week rushes over to greet me.

“I’m so glad you came.” I try to remember her name since she clearly remembers mine, but my mind is far too scrambled.

“I was going to invite you back here at the cemetery, but I didn’t want to disturb you and your parents.

I assume they haven’t come with you.” She smiles at me awkwardly.

“No, I um…I left them at home.” I feel like a fish out of water as I take in my surroundings and start to get a little overwhelmed. There are way more people here than there was the last time I came, and I’m not seeing any sign of Dev.

“You want something to drink? The bar’s free,” one of the other girls offer.

“I’ll grab myself some water in a second,” I call out to her over the music. “How rude of me, we haven’t even introduced ourselves. I’m Peyton, this here is Freya, and over there by the buffet is Alicia and Eden.”

“They’re both in the family way…” An older lady who’s sitting on one of the chairs, seemingly oblivious to all that's going on around her, stops what she’s doing to look up at me.

“You were that poor young man’s girlfriend, weren’t you?

Sit down here and Rocco, will you turn that racket down?

!” she yells out as she taps the chair beside her, and I’m surprised when he does as he’s told.

“I was, umm?—”

“Freya, get this girl something strong… The honey Jack Daniels goes down perfectly.” She smiles at me, and Freya looks at Peyton with a smile before heading off toward the bar.

“Wait…I…I’m not actually old enough to drink. I’m only eighteen.” I realize how pathetic I sound as soon as the words leave my mouth.

“That sort of thing doesn’t matter around here, sweetheart.” The old woman glances over to the other side of the room, and when my eyes follow hers and I see the guy who grabbed my ass at the diner, snorting a line of something from a busty woman’s tits, I quickly look away.

“Get her the drink, dear.” She nods cleverly at Freya before getting back to her knitting.

“This is Anita,” Peyton formally introduces the woman.

“I’m neither a whore nor an old lady, just an advisor to these young women,” Anita sighs as she continues to work her needles.