And if you find love again someday—don’t you DARE feel guilty. But make him know, loud and clear, that Lynx ‘Hurricane’ Ladet will haunt his ass if he doesn’t treat you like the queen you are.
I let out a soft exhale, shaking my head, because somehow I believe him. I believe that he would absolutely haunt any guy who tried to fuck me over.
And I fucking love him for it.
Lastly, remember this… I’ll be back as soon as I can. Maybe not in the way you want, maybe not in the flesh, but in every laugh you share, in every storm that rolls across the sky, in every wild thing our kids do, I’ll be there.
Always.
So don’t cry too hard, Sha.
Or do.
But know this…
You were my life, my reason, my everything.
I love you with everything I am.
Always yours,
Hurricane
The words blur through my tears. My heart cracks open and somehow feels full all at once. He’s managed it—the stubborn, impossible, hilarious, filthy, beautiful man—he’s made me laugh and sob in the same breath. And as I press the letter to my chest, I can almost hear him whispering in my ear, reminding me he’ll never really be gone.
A gentle knock at the door snaps my head around to my mother, who pops her head in. Her eyes widen when she looks at me. “Oh, honey!” She rushes into the room toward me.
Sniffing, I shake my head. “No, no. I’m okay,” I say, folding his letter back up, sliding it into the envelope, and popping it into the top drawer for safekeeping. “I just found something of Hurricane’s, and it’s made me a little emotional, but I’m okay.”
She weakly smiles, her own eyes red-rimmed from crying. She loved Hurricane like a son, and watching her own daughter’s heart break has been almost as hard as losing him.
“You look beautiful,Keiki,” Mom says, straightening the collar of my black maternity dress as I stand. “Hurricane would be so proud.”
I catch my reflection in the mirror and barely recognize myself. The woman staring back looks hollow, like a shadow of who I used to be. Eight months ago, I was glowing with pregnancy and happiness. Now I look like I’m barely holding myself together.
Because I am.
“Time to go,” Lani says softly, popping her head inside the room, and I realize I’ve been in this room longer than I thought.
Letting out a long exhale, I find an ounce of inner strength that I think Hurricane just gave to me, and I nod. “Okay, let’s go.”
The three of us walk out into the main room of the clubhouse, and it feels eerily empty. I know the guys left before us, but seeing it so quiet like this feels ominous.
Like the calm before the storm.
The cars are waiting outside—a procession that will take us from the clubhouse to the cemetery where Hurricane’s casket waits.
Empty.
The word echoes in my mind as we walk toward the front door.
There’s nothing left of him.
The love of my life is scattered in particles across some godforsaken sinkhole in New Orleans, blown apart saving people he didn’t even know. Because that’s who he was. That’s who he’ll always be in my memory—the man who ran toward danger to protect others, even when it cost him everything.
I guess he was always supposed to be a force of nature.
He just decided to literally go out with a bang.
