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There was nothing else we could say to comfort him.
Tate - Five days later
Death has a strange way of bringing people together.
Henn and I took a private plane to New York for Rosalin Larkin’s funeral.
But as we grew closer to our destination, my earlier confidence that I was doing the right thing began to waver.
A week ago, Reed was the last person I would talk to. Now I was flying across the country to see him.
Every instinct, ever since I heard the news, told me yes, go to him.
I’d been fighting the urge to hop on a plane from the moment Henn called to tell me Reed’s mom had died. I knew how close he was with his family. I’d never met his mom in person but from Reed’s stories, I felt like I knew her. Reed always described her as the fulsome heart of their family.
Her son certainly took after her.
I remembered how caring he’d been with me when I was in rehab in Ojai, and how he’d made my house a home I wanted to return to.
A lump the size of California lodged in my throat and stayed there for the entire five-hour flight.
Would he want me there? Or would I just upset him?
Given our volatile relationship, anything could happen.
And the last thing he needed was more stress.
What would I say? What could I say?
It didn’t help that Reed would have to grieve in the spotlight. News of his mom’s death, and the drunk driver who killed her, was still making the rounds. Every time I saw a new picture of the crash scene, I wanted to scream on Reed’s behalf.
Henn informed me that his family was holding a private service, and that security would be on hand, just in case. Hopefully, Henn and I would make our entry and exit without any media fuss.
I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stay anyway.
Funerals were something I avoided.
Rosalin’s death made me think about my own family.
Something I never wanted to do.
There was no one left. Just painful memories that I couldn’t get rid of.
Shortly before I turned nineteen, my mom died from a massive brain hemorrhage, the result of a final beating from my stepfather.
He, in turn, died in jail after being arrested. Much as I wanted that bastard to rot in prison for the rest of his life, his death gave me a relief that I didn’t dare express.
“Tate.”
Henn’s voice startled me.
“Yes?”
“We’re ready to leave.”
Fuck, I was so caught up in my head that I hadn’t even realized that we’d landed.
We exited the plane to a cloudy and wet New York afternoon. I shivered and pulled my suit jacket tighter. Thankfully, our SUV was waiting nearby.
