Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
She was so relieved to be able to leave, that she didn't even think to ask about payment.
Which was good because I knew she would flip shit if she knew that I had already told them that I had it handled.
I knew her mind wasn't going there, but funeral plans cost a mint in the States. It didn't take a genius to know she didn't have it. But with the love she had for her sister, it needed to be nice, something memorable.
I wanted her to have that.
And I had it to spare.
That was one hell of a perk to living at the compound; you had no living expenses. And Reign gave us all a nice cut. It added up to more of a nest egg than I had any need for anytime soon.
She had two days more to learn to adjust, to accept the reality of the funeral.
And I was there for every minute of it, the lows and the lowers.
I forced food into her.
I picked her up off the floor more than a time for two.
I gave her Advil when it looked like the crying was giving her a jackhammering migraine.
I cleaned.
I fielded the minimal calls and texts to her phone after paying the bill because the service had gotten cut when I went to check it for Letha's step-mother's phone number.
And then on the morning of, I went into her closet, finding it a lot like mine, as in mostly black, so I handed her black jeans, a black long-sleeve tee, and her jacket because I felt like she would never be seen without it, not even at a funeral.
I ended up not being wrong.
Though, when she actually found a bra to put on, I was kinda convinced she wasn't thinking clearly anyway.
I drove her to the cemetery, almost worried she might fall off the bike with how detached, numb she had been since she woke up.
But as we climbed up, for the first time ever - let alone since her sister passed - she reached for my hand, holding onto it like a lifeline.
Which I was happy to be for her if that was what she needed.
THIRTEEN
Lenny
It was surreal.
I couldn't shake the feeling as I went through the motions of eating, sleeping, crying, occasionally showering when Edison pulled me in with him, and taking some medicine for headaches.
Everything felt odd.
Far away
Just out of reach.
Because this wasn't my world.
The one where my sister no longer existed.
I didn't live here.
I was just floating above it all.
So as we parked in the lot at the cemetery, I felt the need to reach for Edison's hand, to help pull me back down, to ground me.
The walk to the plot felt like it took forever, it felt like each step pulled me further and further into the ground, like it was trying to swallow me up along with her. Which, well, seemed fitting.
I was burying a huge chunk of myself this day as well.
The best part of me was going down with that casket, never to be seen again.
Edison's hand squeezed mine hard as we got to the spot, finding his friend there - the redhead named Summer who had somehow managed to make most of this happen with next to no input from me.
Hell, she had even promised to go to Letha's apartment and pick out the best outfit for her.
I knew no one would ever see it, but I wanted her to look pretty regardless.
Standing with her was Lo, not her husband like I had maybe been expecting - and dreading.
I wanted to hold it together, not break down in public again, but I couldn't seem to tell from moment to moment if I was going to be blissfully numb, or completely hysterical.
I didn't want to do that in front of Edison's boss.
But Summer and Lo?
Somehow, that seemed okay.
I could live with that.
Edison had told me - he had taken to talking to me when I was numb, telling me stories about the club, the people in it, different countries he had seen, I think trying to pull me back to the real world with him - that Summer had suffered through watching her father be murdered right in front of her eyes the year before. If she had come through that, I knew I could lose my shit in front of her without her judging me too harshly.
I think Edison didn't think I was listening when he talked, or at least not remembering. But once he started, I slowly came back, heard him, cataloged it for later.
"No," I hissed, planting my feet, making Edison jerk back.
"It's just an hour, love. Then we can go back to bed. That's all. You can do it."
"She's here," I snapped, pointing my hand to the side.
Where my mother was standing.
In a skintight black dress that dipped too low in the front, stiletto heels, a goddamn hat with a black veil, and a man on her arm.