We rock up to the red-and-gray-brick church ten minutes later. Mourners stream through the doors as I park the car at the side of the road. Galen hisses through his teeth when he slides out of the passenger side, clutching his sore ribs. Theo lifts Lo down from the back seat, and she doesn’t mouth a word of protest, standing stiffly, staring off into space. Theo and I trade another concerned look, and it seems to be all we’re doing these days.
“Galen,” Lo calls after my cousin. “I need you.”
We step back as she grabs hold of Galen’s hand, and they walk ahead of us, toward the church. It’s hard to step aside and let someone else comfort her when all I want is to bundle her into my arms and keep her safe, but I’ve got to let her call the shots. Her head is a mess right now, and we’re all treading on eggshells, wanting to help her but not fully understanding how to do that.
“It’s good they’re getting closer,” Theo murmurs, as if he’s read my thoughts. “Out of all of us, Galen needs her the most.”
I’m not sure I agree, but I’m not up to arguing as I prepare to step foot in a church for the first time in my life. I’m a little on edge, which surprises me because there are few situations I can’t handle. I’m not convinced my black soul won’t be struck down the instant I walk inside, and a healthy dose of fear mixes with curiosity and skepticism as I prepare to enter the building.
But damnation doesn’t rain down on me as I follow Galen and Lo up the center aisle. We attract our fair share of inquisitive glances, but I ignore them, keeping my gaze trained on the girl who has flipped my world upside down.
Galen and Lo take a seat in the first pew, beside Sariah’s grandma Lorna, and Sariah’s boyfriend, Sean. Emmett, Sean’s friend, and the guy who wants into our girl’s panties, is also there. I try to restrain my uncharitable feelings toward the dick, but it’s challenging because the dude annoys the fuck out of me.
The three of us slip into the pew behind them as organ music starts and the congregation stands. I pay attention to the ceremony at first, because I have a natural curiosity, but the priest loses me during the homily when he starts talking about God’s will and death being a test of faith for those left behind.
How the fuck could this be God’s will?
Sariah’s grandma has lost everyone she loves, and I’m baffled that she still supports a God that has taken so much from her. Maybe I’d feel differently if I was religious, but I struggle to wrap my head around it because it’s nonsensical to me.
Galen comforts Lo with his free arm wrapped around her shoulders as he holds her tight to his body. The sounds of open grieving surround us, but our girl doesn’t cry, and that worries me.
Lo was here six months ago, burying her dad, and I know she’s still mourning the man she idolized. Now, she’s lost her best friend, and with so much shit on her plate, I see what she’s doing. Burying her emotions so she’s numb to all feeling.
Internalizing her pain isn’t a good thing. I should know, because I’ve been denying my emotions for years, and it twists a person up like you wouldn’t believe.
When the service concludes, we follow the chief mourners outside to the small graveyard attached to the church.
Ashley Shaw approaches us as we walk to the graveside. She’s holding hands with her boyfriend Chad, and his best friend Jase—aka Ashley’s other, secret, fuckboy—is in tow, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Ashley takes Lo to one side, whispering in her ear as she swipes tears from her eyes.
Chad and Jase nod at us. They got their first shipment a few days ago, and our business arrangement is running smoothly. We have Lowell Academy in the bag. That should please my prick of an old man.
“This sucks, man,” Chad says.
“I didn’t know Sariah well, but she was cool,” Jase adds.
“She didn’t deserve this,” Caz says, his fingers twitching with the craving for a cigarette. Caz and Galen have been trying to kick the habit, because Lo never stops busting their balls.
The girls finish their conversation, and we walk to join the masses surrounding Sariah’s resting place. Lorna is sobbing her heart out, enveloped in Sean’s arms, as she mourns the loss of her beloved granddaughter. Silent tears stream down Sean’s face, and I hurt for the dude.
This shouldn’t have happened to Sariah.
She was attacked because Parker couldn’t get to Lo, and Lo was a target because of her association with us. Guilt slaps me in the face, especially for the selfish thought lingering in the back of my mind, grateful it’s not Lo in that coffin. I’m an asshole for thinking it, and the lump clogging my throat is painful. It’s no secret I don’t do well with emotions, and the virtual outpouring of grief around the graveside rattles me.
Lo hangs her head, fidgeting with her hands, her body shaking with the effort involved in holding it together. She glances around, and her bloodshot eyes meet mine. Pain radiates from her every pore like an aura, and I want to absorb it, to free her from suffering. She gravitates to me, keeping one hand firmly in Galen’s grip as she leans into my side. I kiss the top of her head as my arm snakes around her back, uncaring how this must look to a bunch of do-gooder Holy Joes. I’ve got zero fucks to give, because this is all about my girl.
After the graveyard, we head back to Sariah’s grandma’s house, joining the throng of bodies crowded into her small living room, before Sean pulls us out to the backyard, leaving the oldies inside. Theo and Caz sit on a wobbly wooden bench while Galen and I take a couple of patio chairs beside Ashley, Chad, and Jase. Lo gingerly lowers herself onto my lap, and I carefully wrap my arms around her.
She’s wearing a fitted black dress that clings to her enviable curves with black tights and her beloved black biker boots. Apart from the raised, bruised, scabbed-over grazing on her left cheek and the fact she’s a little hunched over in pain, you’d never know she was injured, or that she just narrowly escaped death.
A familiar red haze sweeps over me, and I fucking hope we find that slut Taylor sooner rather than later.
I’m itching for payback—Sainthood style.
Forcing those murderous thoughts aside, I focus on the beautiful, sad girl on my lap. “You need any pain pills, princess?” I whisper in her ear. I charmed the nurse into giving me a few to tide us over until we can fill the script at a pharmacy.
Lo shakes her head, and waves of her glossy dark hair tumble over her shoulders. “I’m okay.” Her lips pull into a smile, but it doesn’t meet her eyes.
My girl is hurting, and I hate I can’t do anything to help. I rub my thumb along her plump lower lip, choosing not to call her out on the lie. Our eyes connect, and simmering chemistry pulses in the air between us reminding me there is one thing I can do, we can do, to help, but it requires privacy and the new big bed Theo had delivered to the barn yesterday.
I brush my lips across her lips, because I can’t go another second without tasting her, but I pull back before it develops because this isn’t the time or place. Lo sighs, settling her ass back into me, and my cock instantly stirs to life. A devilish glint flashes in her eye, and I bring my mouth to her ear. “Is my dirty girl entertaining dirty thoughts?” I whisper.
She leans down, running her fingers through my shorn blond hair as her mouth hovers millimeters from mine. “Always,” she rasps. “Never doubt that.”