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1
The weather forecast called for rain, typical Pacific Northwest weather, but on this day… they were wrong. It was as if the heavens had opened to welcome one of its own home by casting bright, soul-warming rays of light on the day like a spotlight of joy and remembrance as the O’Reillys and Keepers gathered to pay tribute to one of their own.
Rainy sat on a white folding chair in the front row of many on a lush green lawn staring at a podium flanked with beautiful florals with a stunning mahogany casket as a backdrop –– that is, if a casket could be stunning –– listening to people take turns paying tribute to someone they all loved dearly.
It wasn’t like any other day, for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t all that different either. The floods of emotion felt like a new normal as they all adjusted to the absence of a pillar of a man who held them together. It was especially hard for Rainy as she looked at her twin babies, who were too young and unaware of what was happening around them or the tremendous loss they’d endured. That they’d all endured.
Funerals were never fun. It’s been said that sharing quirky stories, fun memories, and what made a person spectacular with others who knew them as fondly was meant to be special, comforting, and offer closure. Whoever said that was full of shit. Funerals were salt on the wound that was never going to heal. It was forever. Final. The end of something great –– in most cases –– and beginning of something unfamiliar that would never feel… whole… or right.
Sitting around with others lost in grief while they poured out their feelings for an audience was like twisting a knife already embedded in your gut. A sucker punch to your soul. Another rip in your heart… if there was even a piece left. Loss meant just that… something was gone. A piece of you missing. The world suddenly broken. Nothing would be normal again. How did that emptiness and torturous pain honor someone who’d passed?
It didn’t make sense to Rainy. She loathed being there, probably more than most, and couldn’t wait for it to be over so she could process what happened, make whatever sense of it she could, and mourn. Alone.
She still couldn’t believe he was gone. In the blink of an eye, her whole world turned upside down, and the greatest love she’d ever known was gone. It didn’t feel real. Probably never would. Death was funny that way. It could wreck you and shake you to your core, but then memories like those everyone was sharing could bring warmth and joy like your loved one was still with you. It’s like they sprinkled pieces of their heart everywhere to remember them by before they left.
He was a hero, Rainy thought. It wasn’t easy for most of these tough guys to show emotion after all they’d seen in the world –– each were a little broken in their own way –– but it was especially hard for him, yet he didn’t let the obstacle hinder him. It was his self-appointed duty to protect his people. It was how he showed that he cared… that he loved. He watched over everyone and intercepted danger and deceit before it could land on their doorsteps… until now, when it landed on his.
Rainy’s thoughts wandered, and she recalled all the times they’d had together, the memories they’d created. For the first time in her life, she felt safe, seen, and loved, and it was because of him. Now she had a gaping hole in her soul and a shattered heart that she didn’t think would ever repair because only he knew how to fill those spaces and fix what was broken. Going on without him felt impossible –– it felt wrong. But here they all were. Saying goodbye.
Rainy burst into tears thinking about the lifetime her babies lost with their father. Wit took his seat next to her and wrapped an arm around her, lending his shoulder to cry on. The pain was gut-wrenching, but when she thought of what her children were losing… there just weren’t words to describe what that felt like.
It had only been a handful of days, and she missed him so badly it physically hurt. Hearing all the kind things everyone was sharing was just a reminder that all that greatness they were praising… was never coming back. And she couldn’t wrap her mind around that. It didn’t feel real and definitely didn’t feel right. It probably would never feel right again as there’d always be something missing –– someone missing.
The world lost one of its greatest treasures… Killion O’Reilly.
2
ONE WEEK EARLIER…
* * *
“Are you going to wear the babies down the aisle like that?” Wit shook his head at the sight before him.
Killion strolled toward a makeshift altar on the rooftop garden of Watermark Tower with a makeshift baby carrier made for two strapped to his chest –– his twins fast asleep inside.
Watermark Tower, where they both worked and lived, housed BK Security, and protected their families with its state-of-the-art technology. The building was like Fort Knox and more secure than even the most highly protected government buildings. They were in the heart of the city, plain as day, but so far off the grid and untraceable that no one knew they were there. They were nothing more than another high-rise in Portland.
“Unless you’d rather I juggle them –– yes, I’ll be wearing my children while tossing fucking flower petals on the ground.”
Ayelish chuckled as she stood near the back of the setup, waiting her turn to walk the same path toward Wit. “I think it’s adorable. Big beefcake of a guy with a basket of flower petals, two babies snuggled to his chest, preparing the way for his sister as she makes her way to her happily ever after.”
“That was a lot of words to say getting married,” Killion said, attempting to keep his stride in sync with the music and failing miserably.
“I thought this here was a rehearsal.” Hen chuckled from Wit’s side where he stood as best man. “If you’re not going to toss the real petals, shouldn’t you be pretending to toss that flower shit on the ground in front of you like a good li’l flower girl?”
Killion set the basket he was holding on a chair as he passed, put his hands on his children’s ears, and whispered, “Eff off.”
“Eff?” Wit chuckled. “That flower basket made you weak, brother.”
“No, I’m not trying to ruin my children. I don’t want their first words to be… eff off,” Killion fired back, finally reaching his spot next to Hen.
“But you were sayin’ how you already started speakin’ other languages to them and immersin’ them in it so they would be bilingual.” Hen chuckled as he watched Ashlyn start down the blush-carpeted aisle.
“Swearing isn’t another language,” Killion corrected.
“Well, I heard swearin’ was a sign of intelligence,” Wit countered. “I reckon it’s why we outsmart them bad guys all the time. Hell, you swear more than most, and you’re usually the smartest guy in the room.”
“Heck,” Killion corrected. “And I’m always the smartest guy in the room.”
