In a voice almost drowned out by the rain, Kellan said his goodbye to them. “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you wanted, what you needed.” His eyes drifted to his mother’s name. “I’m sorry I ruined everything for you.” They shifted to his father’s. “For both of you.” He exhaled a shaky breath, raindrops exploding from his lips. “I wish things had been different for us, but . . . wishing doesn’t change anything. So, I just wanted to say goodbye . . . and—” He swallowed; his face held so much pain, it took everything inside me to not start sobbing. “I love you both.”
When Kellan finally stood, he sniffed and his jaw quivered. I wrapped my arms around his waist, comforting him as best I could while swallowing back my tears. He held me close, his eyes still on his parents. After another moment of silence, he asked, “Do you think they would be proud of me? Even just a little?”
His voice broke, and I squeezed him tighter. I considered breaking our all-honesty pact and lying to him, because how could I possibly tell him what I really thought about his asshole parents? But I didn’t. Instead, I told him, “I don’t know . . . but I am so proud of you. For everything you’ve done, for what you just did.”
I couldn’t stop the tears then as sympathy for him overwhelmed me. Seeing me fall apart made him fall apart. He nodded, trying to keep it together, but then his fingers went to his eyes, and a small sob escaped him. I drew his head down to my shoulder, and he clutched me tight. Burying his face in my neck, he cried—cried for what he’d endured, for what he’d lost, and for what he’d never had.
When we were both emotionally spent, Kellan rested his head against mine. The rain had eased along with Kellan’s tears, and only a light drizzle was falling on us now. “I love you, Kiera . . . so much.”
I brought my lips up to his, tasting his tears along with the rain. There was a peaceful solemnity around us as we kissed—no birds chirping in the sky, no cars driving by, just the light splashing of rain falling from sodden leaves that could no longer hold the weight. The silence was cathartic.
An unnatural flash of light got my attention. I thought it was the sun finally showing itself, maybe glinting off the metallic foil of a nearby bouquet, but there was a familiar whirring and clicking sound that went with this odd ray of light. Breaking apart, Kellan and I simultaneously looked over to see a man near a clump of trees taking our picture. Some ambitious paparazzi must have followed our cab out here, hoping to get the money shot. And he had. That photograph of Kellan kissing me in the rain would go for thousands, I was sure.
Kellan’s face twisted into irritated disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”
My compassion for Kellan’s pain mixed with my feeling of isolated frustration. The combination shifted and morphed into a blazing inferno of anger. I was so done with all of this pseudo-drama. The Kell-Sex supporters, the media, and Nick and Sienna could kiss my ass! And so could this man who was interrupting a very private moment.
Hands clenched into fists, I started stalking over to him. He liked that. His camera clicked even faster. “Have you no common decency! We are at a freaking cemetery!” I tossed my hands in Kellan’s direction. “The man is clearly grieving! Show some goddamn respect!”
I was only a few feet away from the man now. He was grinning ear to ear, loving every single second of me going off on him. I could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. It boiled my blood. He wouldn’t be so amused when I smashed that pretty camera into little tiny pieces. I started to lunge for him, but Kellan grabbed my arm.
“No, don’t—”
The cameraman shifted his attention to Kellan. “You stepping out on Sienna? This your dirty little mistress, Kellan?”
Kellan swung me behind him and shoved his finger in the photographer’s chest. “She is not my mistress! You watch your fucking mouth!”
Still snapping pictures, the man backed up a step or two. “Sure looks like you’re banging this bitch behind Sienna’s back. Can’t hide your little secret anymore. I got you, man! Gotcha red-handed! Your little slut is about to make headlines!”
Kellan smirked. The photographer probably thought he was amused, but I knew better. He was ticked. He was beyond ticked. He was three seconds away from clocking the guy. Fists clenched, he swung his weight around and landed his knuckles along the man’s jaw. Oops—make that one second away from clocking the guy.
The photographer lost his balance and landed on his hip, hard. His camera fell from his hands, but being attached to his neck, unfortunately it didn’t break. Quickly recovering, the man scooped it up and resumed taking photos. “You just fucked up, man! I’m suing your ass for assault now!” Even though there was blood trailing down his chin from a cut on his lip, the man was smiling.
Kellan took a step forward, but I pulled him back. This could quickly escalate way past assault if I didn’t get Kellan out of here. “Come on. He’s not worth it, Kellan.”
Kellan’s eyes swung to mine. “He’s got your picture.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Then he’s got my picture. It’s not worth getting arrested over.”
Reluctantly, Kellan let me pull him away from the man who was now giggling at our misfortune. Venom in his voice, Kellan snapped, “You’re scum, you know that, right?”