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“It’s not a bad thing if I cry up there, Storm. We went over this. From a publicity standpoint, if one of us goes up there and doesn’t shed a tear, just reads this thing with no emotion, it makes us look cold. Snow won’t make it through the whole thing, and you and Rayne will be too strong. It’s best it’s me.” I squeeze his hand and give him a weak smile.
This is the first time I’ve sat idly for more than a few minutes, and all the things I’ve been trying to stamp down are rising to the surface, threatening to break through the carefully crafted walls I’ve put up. Even at night, I’m too exhausted to spend more than a few minutes thinking before I pass out. But if anything is going to break me, it’s sitting in the front row of my parents’ funeral.
Storm takes his seat beside me, and on the other side of Snow, Rayne and Emerson are wrapped around one another. I’m glad he has someone through this. If this had happened six months ago, I can’t imagine how much worse this situation would be. Emerson keeps him grounded and is stopping him from murdering every Russo man he can get his hands on.
But it’s the man sitting beside him that I crave. I have to walk away every time Everett gets too close. Having him nearby is a blessing and a curse, because all I want to do is lean on him, and I can’t do that without breaking my own heart. When he left, I wish I could say it hurt so much because of our romantic relationship, but that’s not what left me crying myself to sleep every night. He was my best friend, my confidant, my everything. Every issue I ever had, I went to him, and suddenly he was gone. I didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. I never knew if he was safe or if he was dead in a ditch somewhere. That was what tore my heart out and what I’ve never been able to recover from. It’s the reason I don’t let anyone get close, the reason my best friends are my siblings and my assistant. I can’t handle the idea of someone I love leaving me again.
The priest clears his throat into the microphone and everyone’s attention turns to him as he begins to talk about my parents being called back to heaven.
What a load of bullshit.
We’ve never been people who go to church every Sunday, only going for special occasions, but having a priest is ridiculous for a number of reasons apart from that one. One, my father was a mafia boss, so even if we were religious in the traditional sense, he was almost definitely going to hell. Two, I would argue that at least thirty percent of the people in attendance are also criminals. And three, who wants to hear that their parents were called to heaven when they were actually driven off the road by our enemy?
And yet the instructions were very clear, to the point they named Father Harvey as the priest they wanted to conduct the service. I’m still curious how they knew a priest by name, but hey, I’m curious about a lot of shit.
“And now, their daughter Wynter is going to share a few words,” he says, and it’s only the mention of my name that tugs me back to the present.
I stand, carefully straightening my tight, knee-length cotton dress down my thighs. Snow still covers the ground, so I’ve paired it with stockings and my favorite boots, along with a dark green coat to match my mother’s eye color. Carefully I make my way to the front, and it’s only when I’m standing beside the coffins that I realize just how many people are here.
Pulling the cue cards from my coat pocket, I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. I’ve never struggled to speak in public, but right now it seems harder than it ever has before. My heart beats a little too hard, my hands shake to the point I can barely focus on the words I scrawled on the cards, and tears that I’ve tried to hold at bay gather in my eyes.
My eyes sweep across the crowd again and settle on Everett’s. Silently he’s telling me I’ve got this, and it’s his strength that allows me to start reading. “I wanted to begin with saying thank you for your attendance today. I always knew my parents were loved, but seeing you all here today really proves that. If you knew them well, you would know that there isn’t a thing they wouldn’t do for a person in need. When we were children, our home was always open to friends in need, and every single one of our friends gained an extra set of parents.”
I’m talking to him now, admitting that everything Storm said that night we found out was true. He was a part of this family, just the same as we were.
“My mother donated to every charity far and wide, never wanting to see anyone go without as she had for many years. My father, regardless of how busy he was, always had time to help others. And that’s how I hope the city of Chicago will always remember them.”
I read over the next few lines. The ink has run slightly from the tears I shed as I wrote these words. “But what I can tell you about them that you may not already know is that they were the best parents we ever could have hoped for. When we had nothing, we still never wanted for anything. They always made sure we had everything we needed, and on top of that, they gave us love.” I choke on the sob clawing up my throat, and panic starts to settle in my stomach. I have to get through this, I can’t show too much weakness. “They taught us how to love, and how to be loved. They taught us that no matter your circumstances, no matter how bleak life may seem, if you have love, you have everything you’ll ever need.” The last words break as they leave my mouth and heavy tears roll down my cheeks. My eyes move from the crowd to the coffins beside me, and my knees weaken.
No, I can’t do this. I can’t say goodbye to them.
Before I can think to hold on to something, an arm wraps around my waist, holding me steady, and when I look up, I’m met with deep oceans. “You’ve got this, dove,” he whispers. “And I’ve got you.”
I shouldn’t lean into his touch, but I do.
I shouldn’t allow him to comfort me, but I do.
And I definitely shouldn’t enjoy the way his large hand splays across my waist, and yet, I do.
“My family has lost our guiding lights, the people who taught us right from wrong, and how to navigate this crazy world, but we haven’t lost our purpose. We will continue their legacy as a family, and make sure the world never forgets the people who always made it brighter.”
I had stewed on the final words all night last night. Knowing our enemies were watching only made it more important to make a statement. And the words I chose only served as a message to everyone who thought they could threaten us.
We are coming for you.
8
Everett
The moment her body relaxes into mine feels like a turning point. Since the moment I walked into the house, Wynter has kept me at arm’s length. Never sparing me more than a few words, and only when her siblings were nearby. But when her body molds to mine as tears roll down her cheeks, it feels like I’m holding my entire world in my arms.
I guide her back to her seat but rather than sitting her down and moving back to my own, I take the seat and tug her down on my lap. Holding her again is addictive, and I’m not ready to let her go.
I half expect her to pull away from me, to argue that she doesn’t need to sit on my lap, but instead she leans her head on my shoulder as we watch the coffins lower into the ground. Wynter and Snow sob quietly, Storm and Rayne as stoic as ever, but knowing them as well as I do, I know they’re choked up. Their chests are rising and falling too quickly, their hands poised in fists to hold back the emotion that claws at them.
Even I find myself choking back tears, the idea that the only parents who had ever cared about me rotting in the ground too somber a thought to handle. But holding Wynter keeps me grounded, keeps the demons at bay.
“You did great, dove,” I tell her quietly as we make our way to throw roses into the graves. Her hand holds mine tightly, as if she’s too afraid to let go, and honestly, the feeling is mutual. The moment I allow her even a second of space will be the moment she runs.
