Page 70 of The Dearly Departed

So, when I heard the familiar footsteps coming down the hallway, I sucked in a deep breath, pulled my shit together, and greeted my brothers with a sweep of my arm toward Leonard's office.

Then, like my predecessor had done countless times before, I sat behind his desk as they took a seat in the chairs on the other side, and I told them the news I didn't want to be true.

"Guys, Leonard's gone," I said plainly, my tone calm and nearly robotic.

Shawn gave his head a shake, as if unsure he had heard me correctly. He rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes and asked, "Wait … what did you just say?"

"You heard him correctly," Ike muttered, his angry eyes trained on me. "What are you fucking talkin' about, Bram? What do you mean, he's gone?"

I leaned back in the chair, perching my elbows on the armrests and clasping my hands together to press them to my lips. I sucked in a deep breath, grasping for every shred of my composure, before saying, "I mean, he's gone."

"He's dead?" Shawn asked, like the words, the concept, weren't quite computing.

"He's dead," I clarified with a curt nod before clutching my hands to my mouth again, letting my vision focus on something other than them. Something far away, through distance and time.

I was younger, sitting in the passenger side of the hearse, looking across the car and seeing him. That gentle, little smile he always wore as we drove to our destination. Always so content, always so happy. Like life itself had been nothing but a gift to him, no matter how difficult or unfair.

What would you think of it all now?

"What …" Shawn's voice broke as he slumped into the chair. He sucked in a harsh, loud sniffle and knocked a fist against his temple. "What the fuck, man?"

Ike continued to stare at me, an inferno blazing in his eyes. "How? Why the hell do you know before us? Why didn't you say anything?"

I shook my head, preparing myself only momentarily before telling the biggest lie I'd ever told to the people who mattered to me most. "The hospital called me late last night. You guys were asleep, and I didn't have time to wake you up. Then everything happened so fast, and there was nothing you could've done if you had been there anyway. But … I'm sorry. I should've—"

"What happened?" Shawn asked, cutting me off.

"Heart attack," I answered easily. Too easily. "They thought they had him stabilized when he was brought in, but …"

Ike's resolve to argue with me, to fight, started to crumble as he deflated with a sigh and hung his head, the anger leaving, only to be replaced by a soul-crushing sadness.

"Shit," he whispered, brushing the heel of his hand beneath his eye. “This is real? You’re not fucking with us?”

I shook my head solemnly. “I’m not fucking with you.”

“Shit,” he repeated, his voice trembling and taking on a higher octave. "Shit, shit, shit … I'm … fuck, I'm gonna miss him, man."

"So much," Shawn replied as he reached out to grip Ike's shoulder.

Together, they fell apart. Shawn slid from the chair first and then Ike, both of their knees on the floor of Leonard’s office. They cried unabashedly as grown men, holding each other, cradling each other’s head. Sobbing and blubbering, pouring their souls out until there was nothing left to spill.

And I wished I could join them.

I wished I could crumple. Wished I could fall apart, lose my shit, fucking break to honor the man who’d taken pity on a few homeless, wayward boys and turned them into men.

But I couldn’t.

Couldn’t give myself the permission, knowing Leonard wouldn’t have been proud of the thing—the monster—I’d become far, far too easily in the wake of his passing.

Besides, one of us had to hold their shit together … and it might as well be me.

It was always me.

Shawn was the first to compose himself with a slap on Ike’s back and a clearing of his throat. He wiped his eyes as they both took their seats once again, and then he asked, “Okay, so what now?”

I met his eye with a hint of incredulity. “You’re not serious, right?”

Even through his despair, Ike managed to laugh. “Shit, Shawn. Where’ve you been for the last how many fuckin’ years?”