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“Why are we whispering?” I ask, looking around for some mean looking person to shush me when I talk at a normal volume.
“Sorry,” he responds, his voice only a fraction louder as he rubs the back of his neck. “These places freak me the fuck out. I feel like there’s ghosts or some shit watching me constantly.”
“Makes sense. This place does deal with a lot of death, it’s literally the entire business. I don’t think whispering will stop any potential ghosts from seeing you though. Your gigantic frame will draw anyone’s attention no matter what you do.”
Riggs chuckles deeply, the sound shocking me for a moment and making me stare at him. He lets out a grunt in agreement as Rhys and Adam walk in with someone I’m guessing is running this show. Show, like it’s a concert or something and not the fucked up ritual of celebrating the life of a dead person. Adam looks up at me with a look that screams contempt and anger, his eyes never leaving me as he stomps down the aisle with a slight limp.
I hope he’s okay.
Wait! No, I’m not concerned about that fucking prick. He’s been nothing but a complete asshole to me since I showed up yesterday. He could be beat to shit and I wouldn’t care at all.
“Hey, Alayna,” Rhys calls out as he moves to join me and Riggs. Adam is hot on his heels, steam basically pouring from his ears. “I’m glad you could make it. It definitely would have meant a lot to Declan.”
My throat clogs at that, a simple nod the only answer I can manage.
“Well, I think she shouldn’t be here,” Adam snaps out, crossing his thick, muscled arms over his chest. It’s a shame he’s such a fuckwad, he’s not bad looking. “She’s just a no-good, gold-digging whore who has no right to be near our fallen brother.”
My fist flies out before the thought of punching him even fully crosses my mind. Not that I regret it, the smack of flesh on flesh is super satisfying.
“Listen up and listen fucking good,” I grind out, keeping my voice low and growly. “You don’t get to talk about me like that. You don’t even fucking know me! I am an independent woman, who makes her own money, pays her own bills, and screws, or doesn’t screw, whoever I want. I’m not here for Declan’s money or whatever else you think drew me here. I’m just fucking here to say goodbye to the only man I’ve ever loved.”
My voice cracks at the end, the emotions still too raw and jagged to be held back even in my anger. Rhys is standing between us with Riggs now on my other side, closer to Adam. Adam is standing there looking pissed and shocked all at the same time. He has a small cut beside his ever reddening black eye.
Riggs looks amused as hell, standing here smirking at Adam. He holds out his fist for a bump, making me shake my head with a strangled laugh. Bumping my fist on his, I hiss at the pain blossoming across my knuckles. I definitely hit Adam harder than I thought I did, but I have to admit he took it like a champ.
“Adam, go take a walk to clean up your face. When you get your ass back in here you’d have better worked out whatever this shit is all about,” Rhys growls, his voice sending unwanted shivers down my spine.
This is Dec’s goddamn funeral, Lay! No getting shivers for hisbest friends!
Adam stalks off, that limp still making me worry about him despite my best efforts not to. My fist literally just made acquaintances with his face and I’m fucking worried about his damn leg.
“Are you okay?” Rhys turns to me, grabbing my hand to check the damage.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, pulling my hand back and sliding it painfully into the back pocket of my black dress pants. “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
Rhys’s eyes move to look at the cut on my neck with a raised eyebrow. “I can see that. You get into a lot of fights?”
My shoulders shrug with nonchalance, my smirk saying it is what it is.
“People are starting to show up,” Rhys says quietly, nodding towards the people in black trickling in. “Do you and Riggs mind keeping our spots warm in the front pew?”
Riggs nods at him, taking the out that Rhys is giving us to not talk to anyone coming in. He holds out his hand towards the pews, motioning for me to go and sit first. My eyes move to look at the casket, the feeling of grief settling back in my chest. One foot in front of the other, that’s the best I can do right now as I make my way to the pew.
The guys managed to make the grief bearable for a bit, even if it was partially because Adam pissed me off. Rhys and Riggs, their protection and concern, touched something inside of me that’s been sleeping for ten years now. The two of them remind me so much of Declan in our youth that it seems to soothe the ache of loss.
It feels like forever before everyone is settled in and the minister takes his place behind the podium beside Declan’s casket. Riggs and Rhys are on either side of me, cocooning me between them and keeping less angry, but definitely not happy, Adam on the other side of Riggs. The time for remembrance and grieving has started and I’m really questioning my sanity on coming here. I don’t know if I can handle this.
Chapter Eight
Riggs
Alayna is fidgeting beside me as the minister starts speaking. My hand itches to grab her small, soft hands and give her my support through this. The moment I opened the door and saw this beautiful woman sitting beside me, I wished I could hold her in my arms. That little woman packs a mean punch and I am fucking here for it. That all shattered the moment she said her name.
Alayna. Declan’s Alayna. The same one he told story after story about whenever he could. The same woman that he wrote love ballads about that got him noticed because the emotions behind them were so strong. He loved her until the day he took his own life and then she showed up three fucking days later. Life is such a fucking cunt.
“We’re here today because we loved Declan Hallows,” the minister says, looking out at all of us.
I barely contain my scoff of indignation as he continues on about how much all of us will miss him and what he probably meant to all of us. The only people who gave a flying fuck about Dec himself and not his music, are the four of us on this pew. None of these fuckers will do much more than have a drink in his name or use his death for clout. He was a meal ticket to them, nothing more.
