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Chapter Sixty Five
Blair
I’m going to kill them.
I love them, but holy fuck, they are annoying me.
It’s been a month, four whole fucking weeks, and I still can’t go to work without them either coming or sending someone to watch me. Hell, they even roped Faye into it. Tonight, however, all three of them are here, and I just need a break before I rip them a new asshole.
I step outside and light up, taking a draw. I see Lexi with her man and wave, and then the door opens. Without turning, I know who it is, and I groan. They surround me, and I watch Lexi drive away.
“Where did you go?”
“Are you okay?”
“What happened?”
They shoot the questions at me rapid-fire, and I hold my hand up. “Shut the fuck up.” I take a draw and exhale. “Okay, we need to talk. I love you, and I know you want to protect me, but this is too much. You are crowding me. I can go to work alone, and I can go out alone. I’m an adult. I know you worry, but I can’t live my life in a protective bubble you create.”
Cyrus’s face darkens. “We almost lost you.”
Bray’s expression drops, and Asher winces.
I narrow my eyes and square up to them, knowing I will have to fight them. “But you didn’t. You want me to move on, right? To be happy and live my life?”
Cy reluctantly nods, grinding his teeth.
“Then you have to let me. I can’t live like this. I’m not a prisoner, I’m a free woman. You fell in love with the reckless, wild Blair, so let me be her. I miss myself, and right now, I’m torn between kicking your asses or leaving.” I hold my hand up to stop Asher when he begins to protest. “I’m not going to, but it was a quick thought. If you don’t stop this, you’re going to ruin what we have. I can’t live like this. I nearly died to avoid being his prisoner, and I refuse to be yours.”
“I’m sorry, Darling,” Bray murmurs. “You’re right, we worry, but this is overboard.”
“I didn’t fucking—” Bray gut punches Cyrus mid rant to cut him off.
“Bray’s right, we’re sorry. We don’t want to lose you, but we don’t want you to feel like that either. I’m glad you told us instead of just pulling away or running. We promise to be better,” Asher says solemnly.
“We do?” Cyrus wheezes, bent over.
“We do,” Bray snaps at him, making my eyebrows rise. “You too.”
“I’ll try,” he grumbles, and I slump back into the building. “That’s all I’m asking, thank you.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t follow you sometime or worry, but I’ll try,” Cyrus warns, holding his hands up when it looks like Bray is going to punch him again. “Are we okay?” he asks.
“We are now.” I grin. “Come on, I have one more dance left, and then you can buy me food as an apology and fuck me senseless later.”
“Deal,” Bray agrees with a laugh.
* * *
Today is important, I feel it in the air. I woke up knowing it’s what I needed to do, and I’m dragging the guys with me for support. We went to a party last night, and Bray is hungover, but he doesn’t complain as I pile them into my car and drive, never telling them our destination.
I know it will take a while, but we get an early start. Bray naps, Asher draws, and Cyrus plays with the music, never once asking where we are going. I don’t stop at all, feeling like I need to get there or I might turn around. I do speed though, so we arrive just before it closes. Idling at the curb behind the other parked cars, I look through the open wrought iron gates and to the land stretching beyond.
“A cemetery?” Bray questions, leaning forward with a yawn.
Nodding silently, I turn off the car, pocket the keys, and get out. The cool windy breeze makes me shiver but also wakes me up. I pry my lips open to speak, my voice almost weak from the silence. “It’s where they are all buried. I never came here. I never saw their funerals, never got to say goodbye. It’s time I changed that.”
I walk inside, hearing them follow. There’s a cobbled path winding through the rolling land, with rows of graves to the left and right. The ones at the front are older, worn with time. Some are unreadable and forgotten, decorated with crosses, babies, or angels until they fade to the new, cleaner designs. There’s a small maintenance hut to the right of one aisle, and I spot a few people sitting by graves, but the air is quiet. This may be where you come to remember, but it’s also where you come when you miss someone. It’s a reminder that their life is over, but yours isn’t.
