Page 9 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

That was when I saw the perpetrator. An old man sitting behind us at the end. He looked like he drank his breakfast and now his ass was screaming about it. The expected smell drifted over. Dominique broke first. Her shoulders shook as she fought back her giggles.

Lucia couldn’t hold it in any longer either. “Stop it,” I hissed, barely holding myself together.

Their giggles were contagious, and soon enough, a quiet chuckle escaped from me too. I looked around, half mortified, half relieved to see that others were too engrossed in their own memories or the images on the screen to notice our little disruption.

Trying to regain some composure, I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes just as the song drew to a close and another speaker took to the podium. They began to speak fondly of days spent with my father fishing on the lake.

The rest of the service flew by. There were no tears. I was sad, but surprisingly enough, someone nearly shitting their pants in church made the funeral easier to tolerate.

After the service, everyone moved outside for a blast of fresh air. My heart pounded in my chest. This was it. This was going to be his final resting place. I focused on the sound of the wind rustling through the bare trees, trying to block out the lump in my throat. I could hear the many different hushed conversations happening around me. Dominique and Lucia were my sentries, keeping people away from me. I loved that they understood I needed some space. I wasn’t ready for condolences. I just needed a minute to breathe and keep my shit together.

“Miss Jacobs.”

I turned at the sound of my name and found myself face to face with Mr. Duncan, the funeral director. His expression was pinched, his lips pressed into a tight line. The guy was starting to look like a corpse himself. His skin was gray and the eyes sank in.

“Yes?” I asked, bracing myself.

“There’s still the matter of the outstanding balance,” he said.

I blinked, caught off guard. “I thought that fee was waived. Nobody explained what the charge was for.”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. “Three thousand dollars. Extraneous reasons, as per the invoice.”

“Extraneous reasons?” I repeated, my voice rising slightly. “That’s not an explanation.”

“Be that as it may, we cannot proceed without payment,” he said, his tone sharp. “I’ve been more than accommodating, but if this isn’t resolved⁠—”

“Are you seriously threatening me right now?” I asked, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief. “This can’t wait an hour?”

“I’m simply stating the facts,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “If the balance isn’t settled, I have half a mind to put your father back in the cooler.”

My mouth fell open, stunned by his crassness. Before I could respond, I heard boots stomping across the cement patio.

“I suggest you print another invoice,” a low voice said, laced with menace.

Mr. Duncan’s face went pale as he looked up at Kannon, who was standing so close his presence practically radiated danger. Even I was a little scared. He looked like an avenging angel.

Kannon’s smile had a cold edge to it. “Or we could talk somewhere more private.”

“N-no need for that,” Mr. Duncan stammered, taking a step back. “I’ll look into the charges.”

“Good idea,” Kannon said, his tone calm. “I’d hate for this to get messy.”

Mr. Duncan practically ran away, leaving me staring at Kannon in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said once I found my voice.

He shrugged, his hands sliding back into his pockets. “Seemed like he needed a reminder not to be an ass.”

I huffed a laugh, despite myself. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you,” he said, his gaze softening slightly. “Still struggle to speak up for yourself when someone’s trying to screw you over.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “Take it however you want.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the silence between us stretching out.