“Sounds good to me,” Andrew says with a nod of his head.
A thought occurs to me as I look at Andrew. “Hey, you guys remember that doctor at Garden City General? The one who got prison time for letting that child molester die?”
“Yes,” Simon says. “He was sentenced to 15 years to life, I believe.”
“He was a trauma surgeon,” Lucifer adds.
“Why not get him a pardon and a job?” I ask.
Again, everyone looks at me like I just did something strange.
All silent then smiles.
I must be on a roll today or something.
Right as I’m about to get into my BMW and head back to watching over Sophia, I hear the loud thuds of John’s feet stomping behind me.
Turning to face him, I lean back against my car. “What’s up?”
Johnathan raises an eyebrow at me. “Sophia’s dad’s funeral is in a couple days.”
“I know,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders.
“You gonna do something that gets me in trouble with the wife?” he asks me.
“Define the word something,” I say with a smirk.
Shaking his bushy head and beard at me, he says, “Beth is already going fucking crazy trying to help her. Just wondering what kind of interference I’m going to need to run for you.”
“You think I’d kidnap a girl from her dad’s funeral?” I ask.
He stares hard at me for a moment then says, “Yeah.”
He’s not wrong. That’s exactly my plan.
My thoughts are a little fucked up when it comes to this.
Am I crazy enough about this woman to take her from her own father’s funeral? Am I that sick and twisted?
Of course I am.
I’m absolutely going to take her.
I just need to figure out the timing.
3
Sophia
I’m not a stranger to death.
Ever since my mother was killed six years ago in a car accident, it’s something I’ve thought about often. Her passing was so quick, so out of the blue and sudden, the shock has lingered in the back of my brain.
Ever present.
Like a dark shadow stalking me, I carry around the awareness that I or anyone else I care about could go at any second.
Yet being aware of the danger doesn’t seem to offer any protection when it happens.
There was no protection from the shock and pain when my childhood friend Lindsey was murdered in cold blood in front of me.
There was no protection from the fear of it when I stood on the wrong end of a barrel.
And it hurts just as much now staring at my father’s flag-covered casket as it did when I looked upon my mother’s.
The pain is so sharp, so all-consuming, my mind and body have gone numb from it.
Above me, the sky is overcast, the threat of rain heavy in the air. At least a hundred people have gathered here in Saint Michael’s cemetery, most dressed in uniform, ready to pay their last respects.
My father is gone.
Gone to become ash and dust.
And now I’m all alone in this cursed world.
The only one in my family left standing.
Beth tightly squeezes my right hand while Amanda leans into my left side, her tears soaking my shoulder.
But even their presence isn’t enough to fill this hole of abandonment.
My rock, my shield, is gone.
What am I going to do without him?
The priest finishes his prayer and bagpipes start to play Amazing Grace as police officers lift the American flag from my father’s coffin.
Once the flag has been painstakingly folded, Jacob Morrison, the Deputy Police Chief, approaches me, bearing it in his white-gloved hands.
“I’m so sorry, Sophia,” Morrison murmurs quietly as Beth drops my hand and Amanda straightens from my shoulder. “I know this hurts, but his sacrifice—"
Staring blankly at his face, I immediately start to tune him out.
I’ve heard the words bravery, sacrifice, and honorable so much I want to scream.
They say them as if any of those things would make this situation a little more bearable. A little more okay.
It doesn’t.
Those three words mean nothing to me. They may comfort the people saying them. Help them sleep better at night. But to me… they’re simply empty excuses.
My father is dead.
And nothing can change it.
Nothing can bring him back.
Nothing makes what happened hurt any less.
I’ll never get to see him again.
I’ll never again get to feel his hug or hear his laughs.
I’ll never again get to see his eyes light up when I tell him I love him.
But worst of all… I’ll never get to hear him say he loves me back.
God, I’d do anything to have him back.
Gently, Morrison pushes the flag into my arms when I make no move to accept it from him.
He murmurs a few more words, words that no doubt soothe him more than they do me.
Then he’s gone, and I’m left clutching the last remaining object that was near my father.
Suddenly realizing this is the last thing I will ever have from him, I hug the flag tightly to my chest.
The priest says a few final words and Beth and Amanda press closer as the gathered crowd rises and begins to move about.
I watch everything move in slow motion, as if I’m seeing it in a dream through someone else’s eyes.
Faces blur together as condolence after condolence is offered to me, and I try my best to accept each one gracefully.
My mother was full of natural grace and people loved to be around her because of her warm and bubbly personality.
I’ve always tried to emulate her, especially since she passed away.
To be more like her for my father…
But he’s gone now. Gone on to join her without me.
And I’m still numb inside.
Eventually the sea of dark blue begins to dissipate as the mourners return to their cars, and the path to my father’s casket becomes clear.
I know what I have to do…
Even if I don’t want to.
I have to say my last goodbye.
Taking a deep breath, I try to steel myself. Try to remain numb.
Like I’m in a daze, I take my first step forward.
Dread starts to form in the pit of my stomach, but I force myself to take another step.
Then another.
Someone says my name. “Sophia.”
I don’t know if I’m simply grateful for the interruption or if I do it out of sheer instinct, but I glance up.
The first thing I see is a dark figure standing alone beyond my father’s casket, watching from afar.
“Sophia.”
Someone touches my left elbow, drawing my attention to that direction.
“Let me give you a ride home,” Trent Morrison says, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
I blink at him in confusion.
I didn’t even realize he was here… But, of course, he would be.
His face finally comes into focus as he tries to slip in an arm around me.
I manage to side-step him at the last second and shake my head.
Trent has always been a little overbearing and overprotective. Sometimes it’s cute, but most of the time it’s simply annoying.
Especially today.
I don’t have the will or patience to deal with him today, of all days.