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“There’s nothing to say. It’s time for you to breathe easy. Don’t you see what’s happening, babe?” Wildcard waves his hand around the room. “Your sisters support your dreams. Your brother thinks you’re the sun and the moon. You’re a little sister to my brothers. And you’re everything to me.”
Without another word, he turns to his brothers, does his chin-lift thing, and walks back out to the office, with Demon and Priest following.
“That was like the most badass sexiest thing I ever saw,” Maddie says, eyes as wide as saucers.
“That man is gone for you,” Izzy adds.
I’m smiling like a fool when I tell them, “This day is better that a pink glitter explosion.”
Ava lifts her mug. “Here’s to many more days of pink glitter explosions.” The rest of us follow, clinking our mugs while laughter fills the room.
ELEVEN
Pop-Tarts and Champagne
WILDCARD
Charlotte’s been so busy using her new pads and pencils that she’s finally settling and allowing her body to heal. It’s been three days since the shooting, and on Saint’s orders, she’s getting up and moving around. I can tell she’s still hurting, but she’s recovering.
Unfortunately, we can’t put it off any longer. Charlotte needs to go and identify Paul’s body. Risk and Steady are coming along with us today. Noah’s with Steady in the vehicle behind us. I’m sitting up front with Risk, giving Charli the entire back seat to stretch out.
She’s being quiet. Too quiet, which means that she’s sinking into a dark place. It’s easy to slide back into the crazy shit that’s happened in the last few weeks. Her father’s appearance out of the blue and his abrasive behavior was bad enough. Then to find out that Paul is dead is a whole other level of strain.
Last night, Charli brought up wanting to bury her father. “Nothing fancy. But everyone deserves a decent burial,” she said. I wanted to disagree. Based on the atrocities Paul put her through, I think he deserves to be dumped in a ditch and left as food for coyotes.
Instead, I said, “Whatever you want, dollface.”
“Not near my mother,” she added quickly. “Maybe outside town.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“No. I should do it.” She sighed. “I can’t afford much, but—”
“I got this, baby,” I interrupted.
“That’s not right.”
That’s when I took her in my arms, making sure that I had her full attention. “This is us. That means we’re doing it together. There will be a day when I’ll need you to have my back, and you will. I don’t doubt that for a minute. It’s my turn now.” Although, I’ll do my best to never let that happen. I want my girl to live and breathe free.
“You’ve been taking care of me for weeks,” she countered.
“And I loved every second of it.” I gave her a little shake. “Let me do this.”
“Okay.”
We make quick work of getting the job done. We regroup outside the building, and I scan Charli’s and Noah’s faces for hints on how to handle the situation. I’m not sure what to expect. Neither sheds a tear. Noah’s expression remains stoic as he holds his sister’s hand. Charli continues to keep her eyes hidden, her gaze fixed on her shoes.
The ride back is just as melancholy. I glance over at Risk with a silent plea for help, but he simply shakes his head. Now’s not the time, he’s telling me. I heed his advice, letting it pass.
Later that night, Charli sobs herself to sleep in my arms. It wasn’t about the loss of her father; it was about never having had a father who loved his children. She cried for Noah and the life he should have had. She cried for her mother and the continual suffering she endured at Paul’s hand. At the end, Charli cried in frustration for how her father offered her up as a whore and didn’t give a single thought as to how it would affect her life.
* * *
We buryher father an hour away from town, far from her mother’s resting site. Charli kept quiet, didn’t ask anyone to come with us, but on Guard’s insistence, he and Ava arrive at the grave site to stand with us while final words are spoken. Guard clasps a hand on Noah’s shoulder and keeps an arm around Ava. Noah holds his sister’s hand, and I’m on her other side so she can lean into me for support.
The reverend keeps it brief and when it’s over, he steps back and returns to the main building.
“I didn’t even bring flowers,” Charlotte says, her voice icy cold.
