I still don’t believe it. I just saw her. She came by the shop. She looked better, said she wanted to be better. Not three hours later she was found dead in her penthouse apartment. It doesn’t add up. Or maybe I just don’t want to believe it. I’ve never known depression or addiction before. I don’t pretend to even begin to understand what Lucy felt or went through.
I reach out for Grave’s hand, but he pulls away from me.
I close my eyes and let the tears roll freely down my face. He’s been this way ever since he found out about her death. Distant. Completely closed-off. No jokes. No nothing.
He blames himself. We all do. Even I feel like I could have done more to help her. To save her. She didn’t deserve to die. Not this young and not this way. She had too much to give to this world. She was going to rehab. She had plans to change her life around. She wanted to do better for herself.
Opening my eyes, I see the three Mason brothers standing by her casket. Trey, the baby, openly sobs with his hand on the light wood.
Tanner stands next to him with his head down with his hand on his baby brother. I can see his shoulders shaking.
The only one I’ve never seen is Turner, but I knew who he was the moment I saw him. They all have a similar look about them. He stands there, head held high, and not a tear in his eye. His hands tucked in the front pockets of his suit. Sunglasses on top of his head. He looks out into nothing. And my heart breaks for him. At the inner battle he’s fighting. There’s nothing wrong with feeling something, especially when the loss is a sibling.
The song comes to an end, and a pastor steps back up to say a closing prayer. We all bow our heads, and I close my eyes, sniffing. I feel someone reach out to me on my left, and I pull the hand into mine. It’s Jasmine. She was the last one I saw standing on that side of me.
“Amen.” We say in unison.
I lift my head to reach out for Grave, but he’s not there. I look around the cemetery and spot him over by the vehicles parked on the gravel. He stands in front of his flat black Zenvo STI, and Turner is right next to him. They’re talking. Turner pulls out his cell, and they start watching something.
Grave nods a few times, and then Turner reaches out his right hand and shakes Grave’s.
I immediately turn, looking for Bones. I spot him talking to Titan off to my left. “Bones?” I call out, running over to him. “What’s going on between Grave and Turner?”
He looks from me to where his brother stands. “April …” he starts.
“I’m asking you to check it out,” I say. “I need someone to believe me.”
He frowns. “Believe what?”
That your brother isn’t the same person he was three days ago? That I see him standing in the kitchen while he stares at the bottle of vodka like he wants to down the entire thing at once. That I know, if he wanted, he could have a bottle of pills in his hands in a matter of seconds. That I’m afraid he’s at the point of no return. I can only do so much. And if he relapses, I’m not sure I can bring him back.
“April, you ready?”
I spin around to see Grave now standing behind me. His sunglasses covering his eyes. I nod and walk toward him, knowing I’m on my own. They couldn’t help him before, so they’re not going to be of any help now. I’ll do it by myself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
GRAVE
I STAND IN my closet back at my house, pulling a pair of jeans on.
“What are you doing?” April asks, entering the large space.
“I have to go to work,” I say flatly.
“Grave, it’s three a.m.” She yawns.
“I know.” I rip a shirt off a hanger and slide it on. Then walk past her, exiting.
“Grave …”
“I don’t have time, April,” I snap at her, not in the mood to argue. I have somewhere to be.
“When will you be back?” she asks softly.
“Don’t wait up,” I say before I walk down the steps and into my garage.
I start my car, open the door, and back out, squealing my tires as I drive out of the gate. Heading toward the Airport.
I pull up to the back and park. I grab the bag out of my back seat and enter the building. I take the broken escalator two at a time and enter the room.
Turner sits at the table, waiting on me.
“Is he here?” I ask.
He nods. His eyes dropping to the bag. “Ready?”
We make our way downstairs to the underground tunnels. This existing, functional airport had a bomb shelter back in the seventies.
They have safe rooms that the Masons use as prison cells. They have their own law enforcement at the Airport. We make our way down through the tunnels and take a right at the end. Turner unlocks the master lock and yanks the door open.
A man sits in the middle of it, his arms strapped to the chair. He lifts his bloody face and looks at us. “Grave?” He fights the restraints. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Jimmy Trust,” I say with a smile.
His eyes narrow. “I knew you were into some sick shit.”
Turner laughs. “I think that you’re referring to me.”
“What is this?” he demands.
“Gonna try to pretend you don’t know why you’re here?” I ask.
“Is this because I went and visited your girl?” I tilt my head to the side. “You can’t blame me, right? That purple hair …”
I punch him in the face, cutting him off.
His head hangs forward, and he spits blood onto the floor.
“What about my sister?” Turner asks.
“What about that whore?” he snaps.
Turner smirks. “Why did you kill her?”
“What are you talking about? She committed suicide.”
“Did she?” he asks, pulling his cell out of his pocket. “Because after Grave here saved her life, I installed cameras in her penthouse.”
His eyes widen, but he recovers quickly. “Like to watch your sister fuck, Turner? You Mason brothers really are sick fucks.”
Turner places his phone in front of Jimmy and pushes play. The small room fills with Lucy’s laugh.
“Let’s get fucked up.” You hear Jimmy’s voice say.
“That’s foreplay talk there,” she tells him.
I’ve seen the video. Turner showed me at her funeral earlier today. The other brothers don’t know. As far as they are concerned, Lucy Mason committed suicide, and Turner wants it to stay that way. I’m not going to ask for his reasoning. His sister. His family. And his revenge.
Turner allows it to play. You hear them laughing and talking about nothing in particular as they swallow some pills and down some alcohol. Then you hear him say, “Let’s fuck.”
“I’m not in the mood.” Her voice comes out soft. Like it took a lot of effort just to get them out.
“Come on, baby. It’ll feel so good with the high.” He grabs her by the waist and pushes the back of her legs to the edge of the bed.
“No.” She places her hands on his chest.
“What about that foreplay you were talking about?” He reaches down and undoes her shorts.
“Jimmy …”
He tosses her onto the bed, and she begins to fight him. But she’s taken too many pills, had too much to drink. He’s much more coherent than she is. She doesn’t stand a chance against him.