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I don’t know how long we stay like this, but eventually, Ace comes rushing in. I think I hear him say that Olivia is with Maverick, but I’m not positive that’s what he said.
Ace wraps his arms around Lee from behind and forces her off Eli’s cold body. “He’s gone, Lee, he’s gone!” She thrashes against him.
“Liar! Get the fuck off of me!” He holds her even tighter.
“He’s dead!” That seems to get her attention because her body goes still. She sags against him, and the color drains from her face.
“Kill me,” she whispers. “I don’t want to live without him. Kill me,” she begs, scratching at his arms, trying to pry herself free from his grip.
“No, baby, you’re not dying. We can’t lose you too,” Ace says, holding back his tears and doing his best to keep calm for her. He carries her out of the room, and King and I quickly look at our brother.
I met Eli when I was sixteen years old. We met at a grocery store where I was stealing food, and without even knowing me, he distracted the clerk so I could get away. We’d both been living on the streets but had never met before. I waited outside for him, and once he came out, I shared my food with him; we instantly became best friends. He was the brother I never had. Every single day with him was exciting and new.
We were homeless, but Eli ensured we always had food—and he kept me entertained. He always told me that being homeless was just a phase, and he would see to it that one day we’d have everything we ever wanted.
He was right.
We may have had our moments when we disagreed, but in the end, Eli always had everyone's best interest in mind. He’d been trying to take care of King and me since the day he met us.
Closing my eyes, I lean forward and kiss his cold cheek. “I love you, brother. I’ll take care of our girls.”
forty-five
LEE
It wasa Saturday when we buried Eli Michael Hale, the man who was often as cold as stone and hardly ever let anyone close to him. He loved his brothers fiercely, and he loved me.
It’s been two weeks since Eli was placed in his final resting place, six feet below ground.
It’s been three weeks since I held his hand, felt his lips on mine, felt his warmth against me, or heard him tell me that he loves me.
Three weeks since my heart broke.
I’ve never experienced a loss like this before—this soul-crushing loss when you lose someone you love.
The only actual family I’ve lost was my parents, but I was young when they died, and losing them feels nothing like what I’ve been feeling.
We had a small funeral for Eli, and it was beautiful. We didn’t wear black; instead, we all wore blue. He once told me blue was his favorite color because it’s the color of my eyes.
Only close friends attended. Those who knew Eli best came to pay their respects, and I wanted to scream the entire time they were coming to me, apologizing for my loss.
Everyone looked at me with pity and kept saying that Eli was in a better place, and I wanted to tell them to stop looking at me and tell them they were wrong.
Eli’s “better place” is here with me.
He should be here with me.
With his brothers and our daughter.
He should be here.
He should fucking be here.
“Has she moved from that spot?” I hear Rowen ask King. I know King has been behind me, watching me, for a while now. I can always tell which one is near me. I can sense it.
“No. She still won’t eat and hasn’t even blinked,” King responds. They speak as if I’m not in the room. They walk on eggshells around me, and I hate it. They talk to me in gentle voices, and I want to scream and tell them to shut up, but I can’t bring myself to open my mouth and speak.
I can’t bring myself to do anything besides sit.
