I stay behind to help Galen shower while Theo and Caz go back to Lo’s room to help her do the same.
After we’ve cleaned up and changed our clothes, I force my cousin to eat some of the shit they pass off as food in this joint while I sweet-talk one of the nurses into getting a script for Galen and Lo. Doc told Galen he wanted him to stay here until tomorrow, but fuck that shit. We’re bailing now. Between us, we can take care of them, and none of us wants to spend another goddamned minute in this hellhole.
Galen is finishing the slop on his plate when I walk back into his room. “Got a script,” I say, holding up the two pieces of paper in my hand.
“Good.” Galen pushes the plate away with a grimace. “I want to talk to you about something.” He adjusts the sling around his neck supporting his sore, previously dislocated, shoulder, as I plonk down on the bed beside him.
“What’s up?”
“I think I have a solution which keeps Lo out of Sinner’s grabby hands.”
I straighten up, leveling him with a solemn stare. “Let’s hear it.”
_______________
I’m still mullingover Galen’s suggestion as I drive us to the Catholic church on the outskirts of Lowell, where the service for Sariah is taking place. Everyone is quiet in the car, and the mood is somber. Lo is seated between Theo and Caz in the back seat, the latter fussing over her the entire journey. It’s funny to see this side of Caz, because all he’s known for is his role as the muscle behind our plans. Lo has brought out a softer side to him, to all of us, and it’s changing us in ways we never expected.
“We’re going to be late if you don’t step on it,” Galen grumbles, glancing at the time on his cell.
“I’m taking it easy on purpose, dickwad.” I gesture toward the dazed, injured girl in the back. Lo has been lost in thought the entire trip from the hospital. She hasn’t cried since she broke down when I first told her the news, but she’s teetering on the edge. There’s a haunted look on her face and a tortured glimmer in her eyes that highlights her pain, even if she’s doing her best to numb herself to the emotions.
We all see it.
This has devastated her.
“Put the pedal to the metal,” Lo says in a monotonous tone, empty of feeling. She stares absently out the window, as her chest heaves and air expels from her mouth in a loud rush. “I don’t want to be late.”
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.
