I’m pulled in for a…hug.
I take a deep breath, and the scent of amber, the woods, and cinnamon has me sighing with relief.
My eyes trail upward, and I latch onto Keaton’s deep blues, a sad smile touching his lips before he pulls me in for another hug, though this one is extra tight.
He slips my beanie off and pushes a kiss to the top of my head, exhaling through his nose. His warm breath causes me to shiver as it swells over my scalp.
“You okay, Blainey?”
I swallow tightly and choose not to hide my feelings,not all of them anyway.“No.” My voice is soft, and he only holds me tighter, placing another kiss to the top of my head.
“It’s too raw, isn’t it?”
What?
I pull back, my brow furrowing slightly as I cast my gaze to his. My heart feels like it’s jumped into my throat.
He jerks his chin toward Laney’s casket and the gathered sea of darkness. “It feels like yesterday.”
I find myself exhaling my heart back down into my chest.
He’s talking about our parents.
Though for a moment I thought he knew.
And he can never know what happened to me.
I turn around and face the ceremony, forcing myself to speak as my arm brushes against Keaton’s black jacket. “Does it ever get easier?” My question goes deeper than he realizes. It’s jagged and rough,a cry for help.
“I don’t think so, Blainey. We are kinda screwed.”
I wrap my arms around my chest and whisper, “Great.” Casting my gaze to the side, I catch Keaton’s. “You doing okay? After, you know–” I attempt to clear the lump in my throat. “Finding her.”
He is already nodding before I finish my sentence. Running his tattooed hand over his head, he licks his lips. “Yeah, B. I’m all good. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Can you tell me more?” I ask.
He starts to gnaw on his bottom lip, then he sucks roughly on his front teeth, shaking his head. “I don’t think–”
“That’s a good idea,” I finish for him, holding myself tighter. “Just tell me, Keats. I’m asking, okay.” My eyes bug out of my head a little. “Please.”
He exhales sharply, flicking his attention back toward the ceremony. A few quiet moments pass before he breathes his reluctant words out. “She was fucking naked, in a shallow ditch, laying in a puddle of goddamn gasoline.” He sucks his bottom lip back into his mouth aggressively before he continues, “There was skin…just hanging off her. Burn marks, triangles…everywhere. The cut on her throat was so fucking deep, it was like they had tried to decapitate her.”
I close my eyes when bile rushes up the back of my throat. The phantom barbarous pain is still so vivid, I feel it all again like it was only yesterday.
I’m going to be sick.
“I think whoever did this to her wanted to burn her, but decided against it at the last minute.” He pauses and shakes his head. A heavy gust of wind curls itself around us, the chill pinching the back of my neck, though I don’t react. I simply can’t.
“I’m just glad it was me who found her. It was bad, Blaine.” Turning to look at me, he finishes, “Really fucking bad.” Keaton swallows hard, and I watch the roses tattooed in the middle of his throat bob. “I can’t help but wonder if her killer was trying to send a message.”
Killers. There are three, and they were. That message was intended for me, your sister.
I shouldn’t have come back here.
I keep my expression stoic as I turn away from him and stare at Laney’s casket being lowered into the damp, lonely dirt. I’m about to speak, when Keaton’s phone rings. He pushes it out of his pocket and holds it to his ear. I watch his fingers at the side push down four times on the volume to lower the sound.
“Yeah, no worries. I’ll be there shortly.” He hangs up the phone and shoves it back into his pocket before grabbing me and pulling me in for another hug. I go willingly, wrapping my arms around him as he pushes one last kiss to the top of my head before shoving my beanie back on.
