AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Why did we have to meet here? Like this? While I held the deceased’s son on my hip? Why couldn’t it have been on some distant beach, sipping cocktails with everything okay?
Because this is the real world, sweetheart, and things rarely ever work in your favor.
“Miss Dresden, I hate to do this, but I have to go,” Cain’s thumb brushes over my knuckles. The sensation brings back that familiar feeling of wobbly knees and billowing butterflies. “But stick around, I haven’t finished with you yet.”
“You haven’t?” my over-eagerness blurts out.
“Not even a little,” Cain fiddles with his tie one last time. The sun catches his eyes as he turns away from me, and the same golden, predatorial glow twinkles inside them.
Oh God, Cain Hawthorne is trouble, and I can’t wait to fall into his chaos.
Chapter 3
Cain
Igive my eulogy and send my fallen ally into the afterlife. I say the words I know his friends and family, those so far removed from my world, want to hear. I speak of the good he’s done and brought onto this world, never hinting at the dark past he hid behind.
“Bruno Tomassini was a good man. He spent his life fighting for what was right.” And gave it in service of my unholy crown. “We should not mourn the death of a man today but celebrate the great contributions he brought to this world the way he would’ve wanted us to. You will be missed, old friend.”
Bruno’s body rests in a coffin a few feet behind me. I’m supposed to turn around now, say my peace, and wish him well on his next journey. I can’t bring myself to do it. Not when I’m the reason he’s in the box and his family weep ahead of me. Somewhere among this group, a child cries for his deceased father in Alyssa Dresden’s arms.
Guilt crushes at my throat, and I choke into the microphone. Maybe I'll look more human, as if I’m fending off tears threatening to spill. But it's the thought of her tight black dress lying at the foot of my bed in the morning that's bothering me.
What has she done to me? I can’t even get through a few sentences without thoughts of Alyssa storming through my mind.
I rest two flat palms on the wooden pedestal before me and press my weight into it. The wood shifts and creeks beneath my firm grip. All eyes are on me, and I have to get off this stage before someone notices I'm slipping. So many wait for a turn to speak with Bruno one last time and I’m holding them back.
I open my mouth to speak but shut it just as fast. What more can I say that hasn’t been said already?
“I’d like to invite the family of the deceased to say your final farewell to Bruno. My friend, my brother, may you rest in peace.”
I break my grip on the pedestal, brushing my fingers over the rigid indents left by my ferocious grip. I walk for the stairs but at the pace I’m moving, it’s closer to a sprint. Get me off this thing and back to Alyssa. She can calm my weary soul.
Bruno’s teary-eyed relatives pass me on my way down the short staircase. A grey-haired woman leads the way, but she doesn’t pass like the rest of his siblings. She stops at my side and throws her arms around my midsection. The sudden intrusion knocks the wind from my sails, but I catch myself before blind rage takes the wheel. It’s Bruno’s mother. She holds onto me like I’m the last life raft on a sinking ship. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze. My desperation for Alyssa has to be stilled. Caring for those who have lost so much is my duty.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Tomassini,” I say. “Bruno’s going to be sorely missed.”
She doesn’t respond while tears roll freely down her cheeks. I cradle her head in my arms allowing her to feel whatever emotion she needs to.
“Thank you, Cain," she says and loosens her grip around me. “Thank you for everything.”
I clear my throat uneasily. “There’s no need to thank me.”
There really isn’t. I’m the reason we’re standing here. If it weren't for me, her son would still be alive to tend for his family the way a man should.
“We couldn’t have done this without you.” She breaks the hug and draws back, her arms swinging in every direction to display the grand funeral I arranged for Bruno. “We couldn’t have given him such a blessed passing.”
Her words cut like knives. What comes naturally to me, a beautiful death and a funeral to speak with my crew, is a blessing to their family.
“And you’re helping Tony. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to take him,” she adds.
I twist my head out of her eye line while a grimace contorts my facial features. The whole situation is made worse with the mention of Tony. He's a kid and can't understand what's happening here. One moment he's waiting in bed for a goodnight kiss from dear old dad, and the next he's outside my home saying goodbye for the last time.
If there is life after death, I know my personal hell will be interactions like these. Giving hope to the hopeless while in the backrooms I discuss how to move my next shipment of God knows what or plotting a kill.
“Your son deserves this.” I draw in a deep dejected breath. “And Tony deserves the best life he can get.”
A smile trickles across her wrinkled face. “Thank you. A thousand times, thank you.”
