“Yeah, Mom. They are his Blue family.” Britney reaches over and squeezes her mother’s hand.
The limousine pulls up to the front of the church, and we all exit the car. We’re greeted by Grant and Emmy Malone, both offering to help with anything the Winslows need. Grant is Sunnyville PD, and an old friend, so it doesn’t surprise me he’s here with his wife. I guess he was also at the hospital after I was shot. Grant turns and gives me a bro-hug. He then turns to Britney and gives her a big hug as Emmy does the same.
“It’s standing room only in there,” Grant informs us. He then turns to Mr. and Mrs. Winslow. “Deacon was a good man, and all of these people are here for him because they liked him and respected him.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Winslow responds as she hugs Grant.
“Hey, man, if you want to stay with Britney, Jackson offered to step in as a pallbearer if you need him to.”
“Thanks, Grant, but I’ll be okay.”
Emmy leads us into the church and down to the first two rows that are left vacant for us. I take my seat in the front row at the end of the pew closest to the aisle. Britney takes her seat beside me, then her mom and dad. There’s plenty of room in our row, but Sydnee and her mom sit in the pew behind us with Grant and Emmy. As the minister takes his place, my mom and Arthur walk in through a side entrance and choose to sit next to Mr. Winslow.
My father is a piece of work. He doesn’t deserve to be in this row. Fuck that. He doesn’t deserve to be here at all. The anger must be radiating off my body, because Britney reaches over and grabs my hand, letting me know that it’s okay.
The service goes on for roughly an hour, and it’s now time to take the coffin that holds the remains of my best friend to his final resting place. I almost back out and let Jackson step in as pallbearer, but I man-up and take my place with Grant and four other LPPD officers. We get Deacon’s casket to the hearse, and everyone goes in different directions to their vehicles. We follow the police escorts to the cemetery, and when we arrive, there are even more law enforcement vehicles than were at the church. They must have been driven by the people who couldn’t fit in the packed church.
Britney and the family take their places by the gravesite while the other pallbearers and I bring Deacon to his final resting place. The minister says a few words before the 21-bell salute rings out. Because Deacon took his life by gunshot, Britney was adamant about not having actual guns go off.
There’s a moment of silence, and that’s when I look up to see Deacon’s patrol car pull up as close as it can get to the burial site. Ten other officers open their car doors, and I know what’s coming next: Deacon’s End of Watch radio call.
“Final call for unit thirteen.” There’s a brief pause before dispatch continues. “Officer Deacon Winslow, unit thirteen, End of Watch is May twenty-fifth, two-thousand-twenty. Unit thirteen, you are clear to go ten-seven. Officer Winslow, you are a hero. Rest in peace.” The transmission ends.
Britney, DeAnne, Sydnee, Syd’s mom, and my mom are crying so hard, I don’t think they’re consolable. I wrap my arm around Britney’s shoulders and pull her close, offering her some comfort.
“I didn’t think that radio call would be so difficult to hear,” Britney chokes out.
In the background, the piper begins to play “Amazing Grace” on his bagpipes as Deacon’s coffin is lowered into the ground, and that’s when I lose my shit.
Today was emotionally draining. The letter I received from Deacon was everything I needed to hear, or in this case, read. He told me he was sorry for being a pussy, and he hoped that someday I will find it in my heart to forgive him. He then tells me I need to take care of Britney. That I need to love her the way she deserves to be loved and that he knows she will love me fiercely. Deacon went on to apologize for keeping her and me apart all these years and that I’m free from the pact we made as children.
Then there was my father. He pulled me aside at the reception he wasn’t supposed to be at and tells me that he wants to be in my life if I will allow him to be. Arthur asked for me to be patient because he doesn’t know how to be the kind of father I have deserved and wanted my whole life, but he will work on it. I told him I need time, and maybe someday we can get to a civil place in our lives and see where we go from there.
Britney and I still haven’t talked about our letters from Deacon and what they mean for us. How I see it, my future is snuggled against me on the couch. Brit didn’t want to be at her home because Sydnee went to stay with her mom for a couple of days, so I offered to bring Britney back to my place. She’s asleep in my arms while Dexter sleeps on her legs. I can guarantee the only one comfortable here is the dog, but I don’t move. I just stay still and watch my future wife sleep peacefully.
Epilogue
Jesus Hernandez
“Breaking News: Jesus Hernandez, a convicted drug mule and human trafficker for Ricardo Morales, one of Mexico’s elite cartel leaders, escaped early this morning during a prison transport. The FBI and DEA advise that if you see this man, please call their tip line at 1-800-555-2020. Do not approach him. I repeat, do not approach him. He is armed and dangerous.”
“Señior Morales, I beg of you. Give me two of your men and I will take down the cop who shot me and killed Abel and my brother. I know who he is, where he lives, and who his girlfriend is.” Morales’ feigned boredom gives me little hope for my backup request, but then he shifts in his seat at the head of his twelve-foot long dining room table.
I don’t know if he’s going to shoot me for coming to his home right after escaping prison, but I had no place to go. I want revenge for my brother and that is all.
“Okay. You can take Paco and Julio.” He nods in the direction of two well-armed men standing by the expansive accordion-style door that leads out to the pool area.
“Thank you, Señior Morales.”
“Not so fast. You still owe me two young girls. I expect you to return with my cargo.”
“Si, Señior Morales. I will not disappoint you again.”
“Paco, if Jesus fucks up again, kill him.” Paco nods his understanding of Morales’ direct order.
Morales doesn’t try to hide the fact that he wants me dead if I can’t deliver. He probably wants me dead even if I do deliver two young girls. I need to make sure I handle my business and prove that I’m better than Flores ever was.
To Be Continued…
Afterword
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