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“Rest in peace, Mister,” I whisper, turning away from the wind and tipping the urn, watching his ashes whip with the breeze, disappearing into the air. Ironically, I hear his laugh too. See him in his tanned-skin, silvered-haired glory, smoking a Cuban, supping a brandy. “Thanks for saving me.”
Welcome, kid. I’m fucking proud of you.
I swallow down the unexpected lump in my throat, looking down at my girl. “Thanks for everything,” I whisper.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to a quiet Brad and James. “Walk?” I say, prompting them both to work their way up from the sand.
We start to meander down the shoreline, watching the sun dropping into the ocean. “It’s been a pleasure, boys,” I say casually as Maggie rests her head on my shoulder. She’s tired. Wants her daddy cuddles.
And I’m here for it.
“A blast,” James says dryly, flipping me an ironic look.
“Wouldn’t have wanted to nearly die numerous times with anyone else,” Brad adds, casting a look our way.
I smile like an idiot, as he smiles back at me and James laughs.
We’ve always had one foot in heaven, one in hell. That will never change.
But we’re no longer unlawful, just pussy-whipped instead. And that’s way more frightening.
Unlawful men.
Over and out.
* * *
THE END
