Page 147 of The Dearly Departed

I hear you, Analise. I just hope you can hear me too.

Instead, Gerald replied, “Not much different from you, my boy. Freedom. Self-preservation. You know the deal.”

I cocked my head, continuing to look at her and not him. “The wedding? Was this about the wedding?”

It was a guess—a weak one, I thought—and Gerald answered for her. “Sure … among other things.”

But I didn’t want to take his word for it. He was a liar. He was a thief. And I wouldn’t put it past him to lie about this—all of it—to twist my arm and break my heart.

So, I stared at Analise, and I waited for her to respond in any way she could. And I expected she’d give me something to ignite that little flame of hope again in my chest, something other than the voice of reassurance in my head. But she couldn’t do anything in his presence, so she nodded, confirming what Gerald had said, and although I understood it was all just about playing a game, I couldn’t deny the pain that pierced my heart.

Shawn laid a hand on my shoulder, and maybe at another point in time, his presence would’ve made me feel better. But not today.

"Time was running out though," Gerald continued with a forlorn sigh, and the image changed to one of the gazebo.

Me removing my tie and laying it over Analise's eyes.

My stomach churned at the sight while the rest of me wished I could be back there, in a moment in which, for once, everything had felt good and right. Even for only a second.

"So, while you kids were canoodling, my other men were busy."

And then he pressed a button to reveal an image of my brothers being shoved into the back of a truck with black sacks over their heads.

"You see," he said, flashing me with a triumphant grin, "I told you once that I'd get you one day. You didn't believe me, but …" His gaze jumped from Shawn to Ike, then back to me. "Gotcha."

"You had us yesterday," I argued on our behalf. "So, why the fuck are you doing this to us now?"

He offered a casual shrug. "Thought I’d be nice and give you some closure."

"Closure," I repeated, the word poison on the tip of my tongue.

I didn’t want closure. I wanted to get her far, far away from Benjamin and this place.

He nodded, then gestured toward Analise. "You know, the opportunity to say goodbye and soften the blow to your ego. She’s leaving, my boy. She won’t be around here much—her new husband is very demanding, I hear.” He chuckled at the salacious insinuation, gripping her shoulder in his palm. “I’ll give you a moment to say goodbye in whatever way you see fit. Consider it a gift. But, hey, don't kill her, all right? That would be … well, let's just say, it'd be problematic for all of us."

He turned the TV off and dropped the remote onto the coffee table between the leather sofas. Then he moseyed toward the door and called over his shoulder, "You have five minutes."

He closed the door behind him, leaving the four of us to stand in the middle of his office. Analise's hands began to tremble as her eyes bounced between me and my two brothers. She wasn't small or weak by any stretch of the imagination, but one woman standing at roughly five foot seven was no match against three grown men, all over six feet.

"What do you wanna do?" Shawn asked, doing nothing to disguise his voice.

My brothers didn’t know the things I knew. They didn’t know that I knew this girl and I knew her heart. She wasn’t capable of doing the terrible things that Gerald wanted me to believe. But I couldn’t tell them that here, and I couldn’t explain it all in a way that they would understand.

No, for now, they would believe what they had seen on the television screen, and they would look out for my best interest.

But even still, I wouldn’t let either of them seek revenge on my behalf.

I held up a hand to shut Shawn up while I stared at her, cocking my head and giving the illusion that I was angry, hateful.

"Are you afraid of me now?" I asked her in nearly a whisper.

Her eyes danced over my mask, and I imagined she wished she could read my expression. But all she saw was a tall, menacing figure, looming over her, and still, she shook her head.

"I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” she whispered in a small, meek voice.

Never, I thought as I replied, "Oh, no?"

Again, she shook her head, more confident this time. “Y-you know me. You—"