“Don’t hold it in; it makes it worse,” he whispers above my head. Saint knows this type of loss; he lost his mom when he was younger.
He never talks about her, and it makes me think his advice is one from experience.
The muffled voices eventually drown out, and the rows of black slowly fade away as people move, everyone shuffling around us whilst I remain rooted in place.
I don’t know how long we stand here for, but Saint makes no attempt at ushering me to leave, even though he’s completely drenched.
I startle when he speaks, despite his voice being low, soft and gentle. “I’ll take her.”
I’ve never heard words leaving his voice like that. But when I glance over to my right, I see Barry turning as he heads towards the funeral cars.
My throat feels gritty when I speak. I haven’t said a single word since last night. “You don’t need to stay.”
His head rests on top of mine, and he lets go of my hand to wrap an arm protectively against my chest. The overwhelming feeling causes my eyes to flutter shut.
Tears that were kept at bay all day manage to break free, the warm trail of them felt as they roll down my cheeks.
His embrace grounds me, allowing me to silently grieve without feeling like I’m about to go over the edge. And when he speaks again, his voice wrapping me in a warm whisper, I feel my heart twinge for another reason.
“I’m not going anywhere, darling. Not ever.”
10
Indie
Breath - Breaking Benjamin
Present day
Thesnowhasfinallywashed away, much to Regina’s dismay.
Another couple of weeks, and it won’t be long before it’s back, the winters in Kingstone usually consumed in white by the end of November.
I decided to forgo my morning run, try something a little less taxing on the body. The bathtub drains of water, and I watch as the last of the bubbles swirl down the drain.
I feel exhausted.
Both mentally and physically.
The last few days have taken their toll on me.
I’m tired from running my body hard, running from the pain, and from the realisation that I’ve finally severed the cord.
When I exit the bathroom, I jump out of my skin as Regina sits on my bed.
“Fucking creeping Jesus,” I murmur, watching her completely engrossed in whatever’s on her laptop screen.
She glances at me over the lid. “You might want to sit down.”
A chill breezes over my neck, and I walk over to the bed to see what’s got her sitting with her back ramrod straight.
“What is this?” I ask, my eyes scanning over the screen.
One of our codes has triggered, but the name on Regina’s search doesn’t belong to anyone we’ve contacted historically, and we haven’t handed out a card; we need to lie low for a while after a kill.
Regina pulls up the location, and it shows just over an hour and a half away, a small town named Pinecrest.
“Take a look at this.”
