Kylie

Made men.

Society have us believing they are criminals, killers, monsters. They are the cause of all the crime in America. Maybe they are, Maybe they are the vicious inhuman

beasts, that our parents tell us about.

But one of them was also my friend.

He’s the reason Diamond can sit at that damn desk everyday lost in her own world. The reason why I get to live another day, because a made man was what saved our lives.

Reno Catelli was a made man, he was also Diamond's boyfriend and one of the very few friends I had.

Now he's gone, killed at age nineteen.

“Eterno riposo, concedere a loro, o Signore , e lasciare che perpetua risplenda ad essi la luce, Maggio le anime dei fedeli defunti attraverso il ricordo di Dio, riposo in pace. Amen. Our Father, into your hands, O Lord, we humbly entrust our brother Lorenzo Michel Catelli. In this life you embraced him with your….”

Standing in the back of the grave-site near an old frail tree I listen to the priest preach about death and life, the importance of forgiveness and prayer, all the while I watch Diamond from across the crowd of people.

She refuses to look at me, standing sturdily next to her dad. Not too far from the Catelli family and their people but not too close either.

Guess having been the girlfriend of a made man has its perks even in death.

It is hilarious to think about.

A few days ago I was teasing her, “You saw him yesterday, and you going to see him today, and most probably tomorrow and the next day.”

Those words will forever haunt me when I’m not in front of preying eyes. But every time I stare at Diamond, those words would make me bleed.

Standing under the Seattle breeze, my vision planted on my best girl, I know she doesn’t blame me for not seeing him one last time.

I’m aware Diamond needs me now more than ever. I am the one she’s hoping would understand, who would give her strength to move on from this.

I just can't do it now.

I can't mourn the death of my friend, not yet. I need answers, justice, and her safe, she is fif- fucking- teen.

Diamond doesn't need this in her life. Her mother was a deadbeat junky who died when she was three.

Her father is looking at seven years in prison at least and that’s concurrent.

Though Diamond has The Sin Riders, they’re just a small motorcycle club that doesn't have enough manpower to protect her.

Not like The Satan Snipers Motorcycle Club can, not like Vincent and his men. But getting them to look out for her isn't going to happen.

These people didn’t have the patience or the inclination to look after a girl that would prove more work than just letting her go, even if you offered them millions.

I know, I tried.

They couldn't be bought as easily, as some small group of misfits, more so when they would have to protect her from our own government. And let's face it, babysitting an arguably crazy fifteen-year-old biker princess wasn't high on these people's to-do list.

But, that could change and fast if I were to share her expertise with either group, but I couldn't, I wouldn’t.

And as the family started to throw roses and soil on the black coffin, I knew I'm not going to toss my friend anywhere.

I'm going to protect her and just hope that in a few months from now Michael will fulfill his promise, whether he hates me or not.

Diamond steps onto the small stool stationed next to the coffin.

Her black knit dress, loose and ragged to match the inner turmoil she faced these past four days.

She wants to know why.

I see the questions hidden in her eyes. I hear everything from the silent, loud glances she gives me in the morning when we're having our breakfast.

I wish I could tell her, I can’t, Diamond can’t know the whole story.

Her mind wouldn't be able to handle the truth which has kept me up these past four days:- the killers didn’t want Reno.

They want the one who could make a nuclear missile using scrap metal. The person who works for the government. It didn't just put her in danger but everyone around her too.

The people that killed Reno wanted the one person who would give them true power, her, Dakota Larken.

I won't let that happen.

The only thing keeping me sane as I stand here in this miserable place tainted with death and sorrow is my money in the bank and the certainty that if things get of hand I could always turn to my brothers.

Not Vincent,

Never him, but my other brothers, David, Michael, Kevin and Jace.

Those four would follow me into hell, all I have to do is ask.

My attention deters from Diamond as she places her rose on the coffin that holds her soulless boyfriend’s body captive.

The black suit approaching me with long strides through the back crowd of people now holds my vision hostage.

Its imposing stature belonging solely to only one man, who is by default the only Stone to attend the funeral, Vincent Stone.

Unlike Hector's other children who are from Sandra Decoster or my mother, Hunter Orniel, both Texan-born women.

Vincent's mother is Italian, Taliya Raseto. The eldest daughter of Ricardo Raseto, head of the Raseto family and a member of the Famiglia.

A short affair after the death of her husband, finally produced an heir to the Raseto family, Vincent Raseto Stone aka my stepbrother, a made man.

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