“You have one amazing dog,” I tell him as I reach out to pet Dexter.
“We have to work on how he gets my attention.” Kade lifts his hand, showing me teeth marks. “But yes, he is a damn good dog.”
“My parents?”
“Like you and me, they’re in shock. Your parents are grieving for their son. When I broke the news to them, your mom fainted but came to pretty quickly. While your mom was unconscious, your dad held onto her hand and cried. When she came to, there was little dialogue among us.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s almost three in the morning. I was asleep on the couch. Sydnee went to her mom’s place. She said she needed her mom’s arms tonight. Syd also said she's all yours when she returns sometime tomorrow.”
“My parents?”
“They went to their bedroom a couple of hours ago.”
“Will you take me home?” I ask.
“Home? Don’t you want to be here when your parents wake up?”
“I know I should be, but I need to shower. I need different clothes. It feels like these clothes”—I pause and yank at the collar of my sweater—“are suffocating me. I know that sounds weird, but I want to burn these clothes. I don’t want to see or wear them again.”
“Why don’t you come to my place? You can take a nice long shower in my steam shower and I’ll give you one of my t-shirts and a pair of my boxer briefs to wear,” Kade offers as a compromise. “Afterward, we can sit on the couch and watch back-to-back episodes of The Big Bang Theory until we fall asleep.”
His offer sounds nice, and as much as I would like to be alone right now, I really don’t want to be alone. If Sydnee were home, I would push to go there, but since she’s at her mom’s, I take Kade up on his offer. Before leaving, I write a note to my parents telling them I will be back later to start planning my brother’s funeral. I’m sure they’ll understand why I left.
Even though my room is still my room, I don’t have any clothes here. It was apparent we were never going to wear them again, so two years ago, we donated every piece of clothing in mine and Deacon’s rooms. I think my parents even thinned out their wardrobes as well.
Thankfully, Kade’s house isn’t far from my parents’ place. I need to rid my body of the tainted clothing. He grabs a towel and washcloth from his linen closet, as well as the clothes he said I could wear from his dresser, and stacks the items on the counter between the double sinks. Then he grabs a brand new toothbrush from his vanity drawer, leaving it on top of the clothes.
“Dex hasn’t eaten since yesterday, so I’m going to feed him and take him out one last time before bed.”
“Okay. Hey, Kade?”
“Yeah?”
“Wait.” I close the door and strip my clothes from my body. Cracking open the door, I hand them over to Kade. “Burn them, please.”
“You got it.” He leaves me in the bathroom to do my thing while he goes to do his thing. I manage to make it through my shower, only breaking down three times, as the hot water rinses away what feels like the rancid stench of my brother’s house.
I always keep hair ties in my purse, so once I’m out of the shower and dressed, I towel dry my hair and pile it on my head, securing it with the hair tie I grabbed. Taking in my reflection in the mirror, I almost don’t recognize myself. Any other day, my green eyes shine like emeralds, but tonight, they’re dark and murky, like the light within me has been extinguished.
When I exit the bedroom, I slowly make my way out into the living area. Kade just put Dexter in his crate for bedtime, so I say goodnight to him before he could start crying. I turn and make my way over to the couch, curling up with a blanket on one end. Our show of choice is already playing when I sit down. Even though I’ve seen all the episodes numerous times, I can’t follow what’s going on. My mind keeps drifting to my brother.
“Here.” Kade hands me a crystal whiskey tumbler with a single square ice cube in it. He sits beside me, pulls the cork out of the bottle of Blanton’s bourbon, and pours us each a glass. “I thought this might help us both get some rest.”
“Thank you—,” I begin, but I am abruptly cut off.
“No thanks needed, Brit.”
“Kade, shut up and listen—please.” His hands go up as if he’s surrendering, so I continue. “Thank you for getting me out of Deacon’s house today. If you hadn’t been there, I would probably still be there. Thank you for being my voice when I couldn’t find the words to speak. Thank you for delivering the horrible news to my parents. I know that wasn’t easy for you. But most of all, thank you for being here for me.” I begin to choke up, but I quickly hold up my index finger, signaling that I’m not finished. We each take a drink, and I continue what I was saying. “Kade, thank you for not only being my brother’s best friend and confidant but for being the brother he never had. He loved you, Kade. You know that, right?”
“Britney, I love your brother as if we were the same blood. Twenty-something years is a long time, and all of those years were filled with your family. There isn’t one of my memories that doesn’t include D.” His eyes fill with tears, and he turns his attention to the television, not really watching it, but more looking through it.
Blanton’s is not a bourbon to be chugged down, but tonight—or this morning, rather—it’s going down smoothly. Kade pours us each another, and then another. I pull my eyes away from the television and look over to my left. Kade’s head is tilted up, resting on top of the back cushion, and his eyes are closed as tears stream from the corner of his eye. He must sense I’m staring at him because he opens his eyes and angles his head in my direction. The pained expression staring back at me breaks my heart because I don’t know how to help him because I don’t know how to help myself.
“What are we going to do without him, Brit?” Kade’s naturally robust and commanding voice is replaced by a broken one, each word cracking as he speaks.
I take the glass from his hand, and I place both mine and his on the coffee table. Settling back into the corner of the couch, I pull Kade toward me, holding onto him as tight as I can while we both cry ourselves to sleep.
28
Kade
I wake when my cell phone starts vibrating on the coffee table. I know I fell asleep in Britney’s arms, but somehow, she’s now in mine. I don’t want to wake her, but my phone won’t stop vibrating. Reaching over her body, I grab the noisy piece of technology, but the damn thing slips through my fingers and drops right in the center of Britney’s chest.
“Ouch,” she snaps, rubbing her chest where the phone landed.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize as I crawl over her to get up. Looking down at the caller ID, I see that the missed call is from my sergeant. I then notice the red circles by my text messages and phone icon; sixty-seven text messages and twenty-two missed calls—one is from my mother. Fuck! I was going to see her to tell her about Deacon in person, but yesterday, Britney was my main priority.
Without a word to Britney, I let Dexter out of his crate and follow him outside so he can do his morning business and I can return my sergeant’s and my mother’s calls. What Britney doesn’t know is that both Deacon and I have funeral arrangements already in place. As glum as it sounds, in our profession, our lives are on the line the second we put on our uniforms and hit the streets. My sergeant is already handling the majority of the arrangements with his wife and the chief’s wife. Both Mrs. Black and Mrs. Salazar want to meet with Britney and her parents. I ask him if he can give the Winslows a couple of days to be together and grieve the loss of their son, and I’ll get back to him with a meeting day and time. He gave me no argument, only sympathy and understanding.