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The mourners, dressed up like some chic morbid fashion parade, are respectfully murmuring hymns, singing the praises of a woman they’ve never really known. And all for what? To pay respects? No. To show what a pillar of the community she was? That’s laughable. No. It’s to show themselves in the best light. They survived death. They’re still here. They’re winning. They think their wealth and status alone is enough to buy them more time.
I long to sneak into every single one of their bedrooms late at night to prove them wrong.
Baxter has awoken a beast inside of me and I welcome it with open arms.
Even though heads are bowed reverently, I feel every single person in the crowd’s eyes upon me. They’re all wondering, speculating. Probably hating me for the fortune they think I’m set to inherit. As if I’d want anything from that witch. I scan every face, trying to commit them all to memory. I know Jax will have set surveillance up today, but I need to watch them with my own eyes.
Someone here knows the real Cordelia.
She didn’t work alone.
Someone here has a heart as black as she did.
Someone here might still be coming after my family. For what reason, I have no idea. But I’ll be damned if I let even one more hair on my family’s head become damaged in connection to that vile bitch.
Whoever she was working with better watch out. Because I won’t stop until all threats against my family are eradicated. And even though she wants nothing to do with me, that protection still extends to Lizzie and whatever family she’s made for herself too.
When it's finally over, I wait for everyone to leave, my guys dealing with the confused guests who want to know where the wake will be held. There isn’t going to be one. There will be no more celebration of her life. I’ve done what’s expected and given her a proper burial. It’s more than she deserves. But I won’t do anything else.
They slowly leave, looking most put out, but I truly don’t care. One by one they dwindle away when they realise that I’m not going to invite them back to the house or even speak to them at all. Dirty looks that could kill are thrown my way but I’m impervious to them all.
Eventually it’s just me and my guys standing by the grave.
“Do you want us to leave you alone?” Thorn asks.
“Fuck no. I’m done here,” I reply.
“Okay, well it’s carnage out there with all the limos, the traffic is deadlocked. I have a taxi waiting and we’re going to jump in it to get to Nix. We could squeeze you in or you could take it and I’ll wait for the car to be free?”
“No it’s fine. You guys go. I’ll wait with Baxter for the limo. Give Nix a kiss and a cuddle for me.”
“Always, princess.”
Thorn, Rebel, Ace and Jax kiss me one by one and then leave the graveyard.
Once we’re alone I step forward and toss the letter I’m clutching in my hand down on top of the casket. Something for the bitch to read in hell. I have no regrets now. My demons are getting buried with her. A weight lifts from my shoulders and even though it’s gross and immature, it’s cathartic too: I lean forward and spit on her grave.
Baxter and I stand in silence staring at the hole. I wonder which of us despises her more. I have to admire he did a beautiful job of carving her up and I think it came from a place of love for me, but also hatred on his part. I
I don’t know how long we stand there, over the remains of my blood relative. Funny how family is what you make it, not where you come from.
I still have questions, of course. Where is Lizzie? Will she ever want to see me again? What has Cuntdelia left as her legacy?
But I know whatever the outcome, I'll face it with my family by my side. I reach for Baxter's hand and entwine our fingers, and we watch the world go by in silence together.
