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“I’ll make it painless. You’ll go to sleep and never know.”
“You’re a … good man, Sinclair. You just … haven’t … figured it … out yet.”
“Bleu is the only good thing about me.” She’s the only re
ason the light inside me bothers to battle the dark.
“My girl … has a way … of bringing out … the best … in everyone.”
It’s true. My sweet lass has brought out a whole new side of me, one I didn’t know existed. “I don’t know how she can love someone like me. But by some miracle, she does.”
“You don’t … know this … but you’ve helped … to heal … her heart.” He pauses but I can tell he has more to say. “I knew it … the night you … came to … ask for … her hand.”
I was positive I’d never love anyone. I didn’t believe I was capable but that was before Bleu changed everything.
* * *
It’s a new day—and it’ll be Harry’s last. I’m not looking forward to assisting him in leaving this life. It may very well be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I’m predicting the onset of an attack for Bleu when he goes—probably a series of them. I dread that as much as being the one to end Harry’s life.
This is clearly his worst day yet. His breathing is much more labored, his color an ashy gray despite the additional oxygen. I seriously doubt he’d last much longer without intervention anyway. So why would I help him leave this world when he’s well on his way out on his own? He wants to die peacefully with dignity, not lying in a bed unable to move while he slowly drowns. I can give him that.
I have everything I need in my pocket—three large syringes. Each is filled with a hefty dose of medication intended to deliver a peaceful death. All I have to do is wait for the right time to inject them into his IV.
I luck out when Ellison and Bleu decide they’re hungry and want to go to the cafeteria. I opt to stay behind.
Harry was an agent for thirty years. He’s not stupid. He didn’t want any warning of when it was coming but he knows what I’m about to do. I see it in his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Go in peace, Harry.” I push the first of the three medications through his IV.
“I have … a letter … for you. Top drawer … of the … bedside … table. Took me … awhile … to write it. Read it … privately.”
“As you wish.” I slip the envelope into my interior jacket pocket. I connect the second syringe to Harry’s line and take my phone from my pocket. I push the medication as I make the call that is going to devastate my wife. “Bonny. I think you and Ellison should come back. Quickly.”
I connect the third to Harry’s IV. “They’ll be here soon.”
I’ve timed the walk from the cafeteria to Harry’s room a dozen times. I have around two minutes with a brisk walk so I count to sixty and then push the last syringe slowly over the last thirty seconds.
Bleu and Ellison burst into the room half a minute later. Each rush to Harry’s side. “What’s happening?”
“I think this might be it.”
“I’m calling Marge,” Ellison says as she moves toward the door.
Harry stops her. “No, princess. Family only.”
I suddenly feel like an outsider, not fit to stay. “I’ll step outside.”
“Stay, Sinclair.” Harry struggles to catch his breath. “You are my family too.”
His fingers move toward Ellison, not more than an inch. “Come.”
She moves to his bedside and takes his hand. “What is it, Dad?”
He moves his other hand in Bonny’s direction. “You … come … too.”
She does as he says, taking his hand in hers.
“I’ve loved each of you differently, but always equally. Both of you have been my pride and joy but for different reasons. You’ve been the best daughters a father could hope to have.”
Bleu and Ellison are sobbing, each proclaiming their love for their father. It brings me to tears.
Bleu presses her father’s hand to her face and kisses it.
“Girlie girl. You’ve … done good … with Sinclair. He’s going … to be … a fine husband.”
Bleu’s attention temporarily turns from her father to me. “I know. That’s why I can’t be sorry for the way things have gone.”
“Sinclair is … going to … watch over you.” Pause. “Be your protector … and Ellison’s … until she has … a husband … of her own.”
“Both Sin and I will protect her.” Ellison looks from her father to Bleu with her brow wrinkled, her eyes narrowed. It’s the same confused expression I’ve seen Bleu wear.
“Elli … never settle … for less … than you deserve.”
“I never have, Dad. I certainly won’t when it comes to a man.” She brings his hand to her face. “He’ll have very large shoes to fill.”
Harry struggles for his next few breaths. His voice is so soft and low it’s barely audible. “I’m very tired. I’m going to rest my eyes now.”
His lids close and the depth of the rise and fall of his chest shallows with each breath.
I’ve watched many men die but never like this—peacefully, without fear.
“Jules.” It’s the last word he utters before his breathing ceases. His face is relaxed, no longer grimacing from pain. Harry is finally at peace.
* * *
Bleu and Ellison are busy making Harry’s final arrangements. They’re choosing flowers, something they don’t need me for, so I decide to steal away for a private moment to read my father-in-law’s final words. “Bonny, I’m going to step out for a minute. Can I get you anything? Maybe a coffee or a snack?” She’s eaten so little the last few days. I can’t imagine that being good for her body considering the blood sugar medication she takes.
She shakes her head. “I’m good.”
I decide to visit the chapel since it’s quiet. A good place to expect no interruptions. That’s where I take a seat and open Harry’s letter.
Sinclair,
In case you’ve not yet figured it out, Bleu isn’t your typical woman. The events of her childhood caused great, lasting damage. Avenging her mother’s death is only one piece of her; she became obsessed with making sure no one ever hurt her again, physically or emotionally. In the process, she closed herself off, unable to connect with others. Until you.
If you’d asked me a year ago—a month ago—I wouldn’t have chosen you for my daughter. But today is different. With the depth of your love, you’ve healed her heart. It’s a father’s hope and dream for his daughter to find such a man.
You’ve come to know how easy Bleu is to love. Always remember that, even when she gives you reason to forget. Because she will. Please be patient with her when she does.
I’ve heard it said that those who cannot forget the past are condemned to relive it. Sinclair, I fear the only way for Bleu to forget is to finish this once and for all. Do it for her. Help my girl forget the hurts of her past.
Harry
I fold the letter and return it to the interior pocket of my jacket.
No worries, Harry. I’ll do whatever it takes to heal this hurt for our girl.
Chapter Nine
Bleu Breckenridge
Edinburgh, Scotland
My life has been a whirlwind the last few weeks. Amazing love. Crushing grief. I basked in the light of one while curling into a ball in the shadows of the other. In my blackest hours, Sin executed his role as my supportive husband perfectly. I needed him and he was there, my beacon in the dark. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect source of light and strength.
Today marks a fresh beginning in our lives. Sin and I have come home to Edinburgh. I’m sad about leaving my sister behind but excited to begin my life with Sin. The events of the recent weeks consumed us to the point that we were unable to explore our new roles to one another. Now, I finally get to be a wife to my husband.
As Sin’s wife, my position within The Fellowship has changed. Everyone within the brotherhood has expectations for me. And I have no idea what those are. Stepping into this unfamiliar part is frightening.
I fear we won’t have time to breathe before our lives are thrown into yet another tailspin—beginning with our home. Sin claims his flat is no
longer a suitable place to live since we’re married. He says we should live in a house and would like to begin looking for one immediately. He’s already phoned realtors and has them searching for estates with a minimum of four bedrooms.
Sin’s already mentioned making the appointment with a fertility specialist. We agreed we’d see one as soon as possible but it feels like another thing we’re jumping into. I understand it’s just a consult—not the actual procedure itself—but I’m a little worried it’s something he’ll want to pursue soon because it’s what The Fellowship will want, rather than what we want.
He’s so hopeful when he talks about it. I guess I might be too if I hadn’t already been counseled—by more than one doctor—concerning my poor prognosis. Granted¸ they weren’t the best doctors money could buy like the ones Sin plans on seeing.
I wait for Sin to unlock the door of his flat—I mean, our flat—and shiver against the cold. He uses his foot to push open the door and scoops me from the ground. “Welcome home, Mrs. Breckenridge.”
He carries me over the threshold and kisses me hard before returning my feet to the floor.
Mrs. Breckenridge. I’ve only heard him say it a few times. “I like hearing you call me that.”
“Then I shall do it more often if it pleases you, Mrs. Breckenridge.” He kisses the top of my head.
I put my arms around his midsection and squeeze tightly. “It does indeed, Mr. Breckenridge.”
“Welcome home.”
Entering his building still reminds me of traveling through a time warp. An old exterior. A modern interior.
I glance around the flat. Nothing has changed from four months ago. Off-white walls. Warm-toned wood flooring. Streamlined. Neat. Classy in a boring sort of way. Lacks color, with the exception of the television when it’s on. It’s a man’s defined space. The enormous flat screen says it all.
“Is it as you remember?”
I stand over the cocktail table. I lift copies of Women’s Health and Advanced Photographer, looking at their dates. July editions. Four months old. “Exceedingly so.”
