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Mybreathingpicksup as Mark’s headstone comes into view. Each beat of my heart sounds entirely too loud for my ears. “Shit,” I mumble, almost tripping over my own feet. The ground is treacherous with the roots sticking up, there’s no way I can afford not to be paying attention.
“I got you,” CJ murmurs and steadies me with his hands. And I believe him. I fully trust that he will protect me, that they all will—even from something as innocent as face planting.
“Thank you,” I croak, not taking my eyes off the ground.
The closer we get to Mark’s grave, the more my guys trail behind, Alec remaining at my side for longer than the other two. They’re not just letting me take point. This is their way of giving me as much space as they’re able to. I don’t need to be a mind reader to know they would prefer to lock me up in a secluded tower, Rapunzel style. Luckily, they know that’s not an option, which makes me appreciate the small gestures even more.
Kas halts me by placing a hand on my arm. “We’ll wait right here.” His soft murmur is barely audible, but despite my thundering heart, I hear him. Then he leans down and gently kisses my cheek, his lips leaving a burning sensation on my cold skin. I turn around and nod at each of my guys, trying to give them a smile I don’t feel in my heart. Rather than offering them something fake, I let them see the sorrow I feel.
Giving Alec, Kas, and Coen my back, I walk the last few feet to Mark’s ultimate resting place alone. Even though it’s no chapel of remembrance, the small plot brings forth an ocean of memories. Although we were both into healthy living, Mark and I still shared a few lazy weekends with junk food in front of the TV. Only, when I say junk food, that meant we had our wraps wrapped in carbs rather than lettuce and diet cheese on our pizza with an extra thin crust. Damn, considering the food I’ve indulged in over the last few weeks, what Mark and I did wasn’t living.
“Did you ever taste bechamel sauce?” I ask, placing a hand on the headstone. “What about caramels? Chocolate sauce? I wish I knew if you ever truly lived. Did you ever let go completely and just have fun?” I think I already know the answer. Mark wouldn’t find it fun or enjoyable to let go entirely. That’s just not who he was.
I sigh deeply before I bend down so I can place the fresh flowers I’ve brought. Because of the shop not having anything pink, I chose black roses. Although I know it might seem disrespectful, it felt right. It matches my sorrowful mood, and rather than doubting myself, I went for it.
“You know,” I begin with a shaky voice. “We’ve had all these amazing years together. I thought I knew you. Hell, I thought I knew myself. Now everything seems upside down, I fear I don’t know myself at all—and you even less. How did you know Luis? Did you know him? You must have known him better than I was aware of. You called him, and I wish I knew what name he used when he answered your calls.”
Pausing, I look around and look at the graves next to Mark’s. The one on the left is a husband and wife. According to the bronze letters engraved into the stone, they died days apart. She went first, and he went two days later. If the words are to be trusted, they were loving parents and grandparents, married for over fifty years.
On the other side are a mom and her child. The words, “Even the fire couldn’t separate you.” The thought of the twenty-seven-year-old mom trying to save her five-year-old girl makes tears well up in my eyes. Did she die trying to rescue them both? Did she die holding her girl in her arms? Did she die while mentally begging God to let her daughter live? I know I’ll never know what happened, but I hope that’s how it happened—that they died together without too much pain.
“Life is funny, isn’t it? I’ve had so much time to ask you as many questions as I wanted to.” My voice breaks, and I wipe my tears away so I’m not watching through a blurry sight. “I never did, though. I didn’t even know there were things to ask. Mark, I think… I mean… I have been a very selfish person, haven’t I? Blinded by riches and success, I allowed fancy bling-bling to be my focus. And in my shallowness, I never really looked at the world around us.”
The wind picks up, blowing my tendrils of hair in my face. That makes me laugh, but I don’t know why. I laugh so hard that my stomach and cheeks hurt. I laugh so hard that tears stream down my face.
“Nevermore!” I vow. “I won’t ever be blinded like that again. My eyes are as open as my mind is sharp. I remember everything you’ve taught me, and I won’t be shooting to injure or slow him down.”
Noticing that my knees are aching from the uncomfortable crouch, I stand up and straighten my spine. Rolling my shoulders, I look behind me, and immediately my eyes fall on my guys as they protect my back.
“I feel like I should tell you we’re heading to New York. I know I could call you in the meantime, but I won’t. It’s time to stop. Although Alec, Kas, and Coen haven’t said anything, I know they worry. I have to—want to—spend my time with them.”
After listening to Mark’s messages so many times, it felt like this was his last instruction to me.
“I love you, Mia, and there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe. Remember that, and please always do your best to protect yourself as well. Don’t rely on someone else for something you can do yourself.”
My hand absentmindedly drifts toward the small of my back, where I’ve tucked my gun into the waistband of my skirt.
“As soon as I’m back, I’ll visit you again.” Bringing two fingers to my lips, I chastely kiss the tips before touching the icy cold stone with Mark’s name. “I love you, big guy.”
Before turning around, I close my hand around the cold black metal of my gun. Thanks to Mark, I’m no novice, and I know exactly how to use a firearm. I used to practice with this exact model, a SIG Sauer P238, so I’m used to its weight.
Even though I won’t admit it to my guys, I’m not keen to head to New York. While I don’t want to keep secrets from them, I also know this is one of those times where they’d take my entire arm if I as much as offer a finger. Since I have no plans to stay home, there isn’t really an option. The dice have been thrown, and my number is up. It’s time to do something else other than take my clothes off and be seduced by money.
I keep weighing up different outcomes and ideas in my mind, unable to develop any alternatives. My family is involved, which is beyond unacceptable. It’s infuriating. I can’t stop thinking of what Luis would do to my nephew, Maria, or Jewell. My innocent sister, who doesn’t have an evil bone in her body. She’d be easy to break and an ideal target. At least, that’s my estimation. I know it doesn’t paint either of us in a flattering light to think about her like that, but I don’t have the luxury of caring about sensibility.
After whispering another “Goodbye!” to Mark, I turn and walk back to my protectors.
We’re thirty-three thousand feet into the air, thirty minutes from landing, and all I can think about is that I have no leather pants. Not just with me, I mean at all. The only ones I have are more like sexy chaps or shorts, neither a contender to look badass—and even if they were, I didn’t bring them.
I’m fully aware that this isn’t the time to have a clothing crisis, yet it’s all I can think about. Hell, I’d even take a latex suit right now. Like Catwoman. Anything to put me in an ‘I got this’ spirit. Something that’s definitely not achieved by wearing the skirts and dresses I carelessly packed.
Alec stands opposite me in the small bedroom, smirking like he knows what’s going through my mind. “Here,” he says and hands me a pair of black jeans. “You might feel more comfortable in these.”
Canting my head, I eye the dark fabric as though it’s an offering. “Thanks,” I murmur as I take them from his hand.
Before stripping out of my skirt and boots, I place the gun on the bed—pretending not to notice Alec’s disapproving glances at my weapon. I make quick work of stripping out of my skirt and boots, replacing the professional attire with jeans so snug it’s hard to sit down in them.
“Did you bring your boots?” Coen rasps, discreetly rearranging his magnificent cock.
