Page 76 of Sophia, Property of Tracker

SOPHIA

Present

He’s gone.

The love of my life is gone.

No, this can’t be happening.

This is all a dream.

It has to be.

We’ve just returned from Tracker’s funeral, and they had to carry me away from his grave. I couldn’t leave him, I never want to leave him. I want to be dead, lying in the grave next to him.

Tate grabbed me, forcing me away. I kicked and screamed, begging him to let me go, but he wouldn’t. So instead, he carried me all the way to his car, where he sat me in the back and shut the door.

Tate hugged me, telling me he understood and he loved Ryan too, but he can’t understand.

What Ryan and I had was between us. No one knew the depth of the love we felt toward each other. We loved hard, and I never got to wear his cut.

Oh God, if only I had said yes.

If only I had swallowed my pride and made him happy by wearing his name on my body. But no, I had to be so childish, and it was all because of Tash.

Fuck Tash.

That bitch was at the funeral too.

Ryan never got to find out that he was a father, but a blood test confirmed it was true, and that he was little Ryan’s dad. When Tate found out, he offered to pay for the operation that Ryan’s son needed, and since his operation, little Ryan has been doing well in the hospital, from what I hear anyway.

I haven’t wanted to leave Ryan’s room.

I’ve been sleeping at the clubhouse since that awful night.

It wasn’t until today that Tate got me to the shower, and I only did it because it was for Ryan, for his funeral.

As we drive to the clubhouse, Tate grabs my hand, and I pull it away, angry that he carried me away from Ryan’s grave. I wasn’t ready to leave him. I don’t care that it started to rain.What are a few droplets of water when your heart is broken?

The car jolts forward, and I cry, looking out the window at Ryan’s grave.

A hand rubs my back, and Tate says, “I loved him too. He was my older brother. We’re in this together.”

I don’t reply. I just sit there staring out the window.

“Tell me, Sophia, what do you need? Just ask, I’ll do anything.”

I turn to him, tears falling down my face. “Can you bring him back? Can you, Tate? This is because of you. I blameyou. He had to go and save your ass. It should have beenyou.It should have beenyou,” I scream, then cover my face with my hands and cry. I’ve cried so much over the last week that I don’t know how I have any more tears.

“You’re right.” I hear in a soft voice. “It should have been me.”

We drive back in silence, and I look over at him, suddenly feeling guilty for what I said. “Tate?”

He looks at me, his eyes bloodshot from his tears, but he won’t cry in front of me. No, he probably cries when he’s on his own. I understand this must be hard on him, but right now I’m angry and need to take it out on someone.

“Yes, Sophia.”

“I’m sorry, that was an awful thing to say.”

---