That night I got to hold King, cradling him to my bare chest.
I felt his pain.
I pained for him.
I loved him.
I felt his love for me.
That night, I got to protect my outlaw… my King.
27
(King)
*THEN*
I COULDN’T BELIEVE what I was doing. Standing at a fucking casket, wearing a fucking suit, tossing a red fucking rose to the lid of the fucking casket. But that was my reality. My brother was inside that casket. They tried hard to patch him up and make it so me and my mother could have a few minutes with him before the service. But he looked like a fucking rubber toy. You could tell right where the bullet had done its job.
My fucking brother was gone.
Mom couldn’t even stand up. She just sat in a chair, dressed in black, wearing black sunglasses, holding a mound of tissues to her face. There was nothing I could do or say to her to fix this. She was drinking pretty heavily and I couldn’t blame her one bit. Thankfully, she had some friends that were at the house, trying to help her.
All around the casket were Tito’s friends. Or so-called friends. One of these motherfuckers either pulled the trigger on Tito or helped to pull the trigger. A lot of the guys and women were crying their eyes out like babies. Others just stood in shock, trying to come to terms that this was really happening.
I had Slam on my left, Knox on my right. Ari and Matteo were in the seats, along with some of the other guys from the Reap. The ultimate symbol of respect for me and my fallen blood brother and I appreciated that.
I couldn’t stop playing it all through my mind. Having Tito leave that night. Knowing that something just didn’t feel right. Yet I let him go. I could have tackled him. Taken his gun. I could have found a way to drug him or something to keep him home. But instead, he left the house and he never came back.
A priest stood at the head of the casket and put his arms out, spouting some religious bullshit that nobody cared about. We didn’t go to church or do the religion thing. But Mom insisted that Tito got buried properly. Whatever the hell that meant.
We had officers and detectives up our ass too, wanting to question everything. They tore through Tito’s room, finding guns and drugs, making Mom even more heartbroken than she already was. It was terrible. Just fucking terrible. Every time we turned around there was someone standing at the front door wanting to pick apart Tito’s life. There was nothing to pick apart. He lived how he lived and someone shot him. That’s what fucking mattered. Someone took a gun and shot him.
As the service droned on I looked to my right after I saw movement.
It was Linds and her aunt.
Jane walked to a chair and took a seat.
Linds didn’t.
She hated death. She hated funerals. It all freaked her out. Rightfully after everything she had to deal with growing up. Yet there she was, for me.
She leaned against a tall gravestone, her face white. I slowly put my right hand out, wanting her closer to me. She licked her lips and nodded. Pushing away from the stone, Linds walked super slow, her eyes bouncing between me and the casket that contained my only brother.
When she got close enough her hand slid into mine. She grabbed my arm with her other hand and put her head against my arm. I kissed the top of her head.
“Thank you, sweetie,” I whispered.
“Always,” she said.
We then stood there in front of Tito’s casket for what felt like hours. Even after the service was over, we stood there. We didn’t need to speak to know things between us were going to get rocky again. Linds knew how I felt about my brother. And I knew what needed to be done. Even if the Reap didn’t sign off on it, I was going to find out who did this to Tito and get revenge.
Tito was lowered into the ground. Two of Mom’s friends helped her away. Linds’ Aunt Jane left with a simple head nod.
Even the Reap left.
I just stood there.
I knew we would all die one day. We’d all end up in a hole in a box. But until that moment came I had to fight. I had to fight for what I believed in and what I loved.
So I looked down at Linds. She touched my face.
“I’ll always love you,” she said to me as though she knew we weren’t going to see each other for some time after that moment.
“I’ll always love you,” I said back.
It wasn’t the most romantic place in the world - standing in a cemetery - but it was all I had with Linds.
She was there for me when I needed her the most.
Now I just needed to return the favor for the rest of my life.
28
(King)