“Away on business. He wasn’t able to get back for this.”
“I bet he couldn’t.”
“What do you mean by that?”
At that moment, the hearse pulled up with the coffin, but Jason felt nothing. There was no sorrow that he was gone, but there was no delight either. He felt nothing. The coffin was wheeled in – looked like nobody was willing to be a pallbearer. Thank God nobody had asked him. There was no way he’d have done it, but the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene at a funeral. It would be best if he kept as far away from his mum as possible.
She walked down to the front as the grieving widow, although she was happily waving to people like it was a fun day out, and Jason took a seat at the back of the chapel, if that’s what this was. There were pews with Bibles scattered along them. He’d only been to one other funeral in his life, and he remembered very little about it other than wondering if he’d ever stop crying. There were no tears this time, though. That man was right where he belonged.
The service was quick, with no religious elements to it. This must be one of those places that catered to everyone. Nobody spoke about the man, other than the celebrant, which was what Jane said they were called when they weren’t tied to a church. His mother kept looking back at him with a questioning look on her face.
At the end of the service, the celebrant mentioned a local pub where people were invited to go for a drink afterwards. He’d already agreed with Jane that they’d go for their own long liquid lunch in the city. It was half past twelve – so, early in Boston – and Grant had asked him to call after the service, no matter the time, so he would do that once they were out of here.
As they all filed out, he had to walk past the coffin. The next funeral was behind them and ready to come in, so therewas no way out other than walking past his mum, who was waiting for him.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, gripping his arm tightly.
He glared at her, but she didn’t let go.
“You need to give a message to that husband of yours.”
“Huh?”
“Tell him I’ve withdrawn my parole application. He needs to hold up his side of the bargain now.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck!
“Did you hear me, Jason?” she said, with something in her voice he’d never heard before – fear.
“Yes . . . yes. I’ll tell him.”
“What are you doing with someone dangerous like that?”
Jason asked himself the same question every day. He’d believed it was for love, but he wasn’t sure anymore. He wouldn’t be telling her that, though, so he just rolled his eyes and walked away with Jane. The sooner they got out of here, the better.
Within ten minutes he had a vodka, lime, and soda in his hands. Jane had parked at the office and they’d walked down to one of their favourite bars. His head was spinning with what his mum had said about Grant. She’d withdrawn her application for parole, and implied that Grant had made her do it. How had he done that? He wasn’t completely oblivious, and knew his husband got up to some dodgy shit, but why was she scared of him? He’d said he would fix things after what had happened at the prison. Now his mother was afraid. She’d withdrawn her parole application and his stepdad was dead. Were the two things related? No. A fellow inmate had killed him. His imagination was getting the better of him again.
Jason’s phone rang. It was Grant, so he dropped the call. He wasn’t in the mood to speak to his husband. He’d only say something he’d regret. It didn’t take long for the phone to ring again, so he put it on flight mode and asked Jane if shewanted another drink. Grant was thousands of miles away; he could deal with him later. Right now, he needed to get blackout drunk and forget his past.
He woke up to cold water being thrown in his face, and leapt up in shock. His head was banging, and his mouth felt like sandpaper. What the fuck was happening?
“You’re alive, then,” came the familiar sound of his husband’s voice.
He startled, looking into his eyes. They could melt your heart, but now they looked cold and almost psychotic.
“I thought you were in Boston.”
“Somebody turned their phone off, so I had to come back and check you were okay.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m here now. You’re lucky Mr Moretti understands the importance of family.”
“Who?”
“A business associate. Now, get in the shower and clean yourself. Then we’ll talk.”
“But . . .”
