Sliver of Silver (Blushing Death) (26 page)

“A while,” I answered.

He edged back, putting some space between us so he could get a really good look at me, stroking my face with his fingertips. It was a familiar gesture that usually made me feel warm and wanted. Now it was just a touch of chilled fingertips to warm skin.

“You must have your barriers up tight for me not to have known when you woke, especially with everything that has happened today. Let me in. Maybe I can share some of the pain with you, help you,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb across my cheekbone.

I nodded and let down my barriers I hadn’t really known I had up. I allowed the complete and utter void within me to rush into him, to fill him up as it had thankfully filled me.

He gasped, and I saw the horror in his dark eyes. There was nothing there for him to share, to soothe. Finally, he understood how broken I really was.

A deep crimson tear fell from the corner of Patrick’s eye then traveled in a slow stream down the inside of his cheek, along his nose, leaving a trail of blood down his face. He leaned down and kissed me, soft and tender, pressing his full lips against my own. I tasted the salt of his lips and the sweet copper of his blood. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“Go back to sleep. You need your rest,” he said. His voice quivered as a second tear stained the other cheek, falling to the pristine white comforter, ruining the purity of the fabric.

Back stiff, Patrick strode back toward the hall where Dean stood framed in the doorway. Light cascaded around him like a guardian angel, strong and immobile. Someone should tell him he couldn’t save me.

“What’s wrong?” Dean whispered.

“There’s nothing there. She’s empty,” Patrick responded, voice trembling. “It may not matter what we want any longer. She may already be gone beyond our reach,” he whispered as he glanced back over his shoulder to me. He pulled the door shut behind them but I could still make out their conversation, though faint.

“Patrick, she’s in shock and exhausted. Give her a few days to regroup.” Dean encouraged, his voice muffled from behind the closed door.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Patrick sounded hesitant and unsure. Their voices grew distant as they went back downstairs. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight?”

“I’ve already prepared your room and a guest room for me,” Dean answered. Their voices drifted into the den and grew quiet as I fell back to sleep. Thankfully, I didn’t dream.

Chapter 23

Derek came and went with a second detective, who didn’t say much. The guy watched at me as if I was guilty. To tell you the truth, it didn’t bother me. Nothing bothered me. I woke up in the same cloud of numbness I’d fallen asleep in. Derek’s concern and soft questions didn’t change that. He’d coddled me. I knew it, Patrick and Dean knew it, his partner, Detective LeMans, knew it, too. The only person who hadn’t noticed was Derek.

They left with Derek promising to check up on me later. I’d told him it wasn’t necessary but my lack of any emotion at all worried him more than if I had broken down into tears. They were all worried and circling around me like I would break at any moment. They were wrong. I was already broken.

Brennan had shown up that afternoon with prayers and some kind words. His condolences were hollow. He hadn’t known Amblan. He didn’t understand what she’d meant to me.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Brennan had said.

“She’s still in shock,” Dean whispered, trying to keep his voice low since my exceptional hearing would pick up every word.

“I’m worried about her. Maybe I should call her family,” Brennan offered.

Standing by the window, I sighed.

“We’re her family,” Dean growled.

“B-but,” Brennan stammered.

“If you cause her more pain, you will answer to me,” Dean threatened.

I should have said something to protect Brennan. He didn’t know what he was up against but I just wanted him to leave me in peace. Leave me numb.

I spent the next two days and nights staring out of windows, either at Dean’s house or Patrick’s. I watched as Dean took care of the insurance issues for my claim.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” he said.

I watched the squirrels run in his backyard like they owned the place. I watched the trees blow in the warm summer breeze. I watched as Alex and Patrick made all the arrangements for Amblan’s funeral and paid for everything. I watched as Jade came and laid out black dress after black dress for me to wear. I was watching my life pass me by, and I didn’t care.

I woke up surrounded by the smell of musk, the sun streaming across my face, and the sound of dishes clanging downstairs. I didn’t remember going to sleep or getting into Dean’s bed. The last thing I remembered was lying on Dean’s couch with my head in Jade’s lap as she ran her fingers through my hair. I’d stared into the fire, silent. It made her feel comforted, so I let her do it.

I got in the shower and washed, almost mechanically. I got ready, putting on my makeup, it wasn’t hard to cover up the pale yellow bruises on my face. I ignored the fading bruises on my arms; they’d be gone soon anyway. I fixed my hair and slipped into a pair of black nylons, fastening them to the garter belt around my hips. I slipped the black jersey knit dress over my head. Jade had picked out a simple wrap dress with little embellishments along the neckline and cap sleeves that hit just above my knee. It flowed easily around my legs and felt cool against my skin. I studied myself in the mirror and saw a different person staring back at me than the one I knew.

My eyes were hollow with dark circles shadowing underneath. I was thin, my hair was dull, my nails were cracked and broken to the quick. I looked sick. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten a real meal but I wasn’t hungry either. Everyone had stopped trying to force me to eat days ago.

The person staring back at me was unrecognizable. I’d never seen her before and, still, I felt nothing. Turning away from the mirror, I left the room and that other woman in the mirror behind. If I could hide from everything else, I could hide from that, too.

Jade stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me. She had a black straw hat and a big pair of sunglasses in her hands. She handed both to me without ceremony and I frowned. “I’m not Madonna. Why do I need all this?” I asked as I took them from her hands.

“It’s going to be hot today, and you’ll burn. Take the hat. You’ll need it,” she said then sashayed into the kitchen.

I followed, not having the energy or the inclination to argue with her.

Coffee waited for me along with a few slices of toast. I drank the coffee and picked up the toast as I went to the large French doors leading to the back deck. I had loved these doors the first moment I’d seen them. That seemed like a lifetime ago when Danny and Amblan were still alive, and I was strong enough to handle anything. I didn’t know then that I wasn’t. I laid the toast on the counter and closed my eyes.

A town car waited for us outside Dean’s house. I slipped into the back with Dean and Jade. Kurt slid into the front seat with the driver. Jade wanted to get a limo so we wouldn’t be crowded but Dean thought a limo was a bit ostentatious. No one asked me what I thought, and I didn’t offer.

Sitting in the air-conditioned car, I slipped the oversized black sunglasses on. I stared out the window with a gargantuan hat on my lap. It was a quiet 45-minute ride to the funeral home in West Jefferson. 

The church was packed to the rafters. Amblan’s entire family was there on one side and on the other side, the pews were overflowing with women of all shapes and sizes, men that were dressed better than the women, and finally her coworkers and the mentally challenged kids she worked with along with their parents.

I noticed a couple of women I knew and one of them motioned for me to sit next to her. She gave me a quick wave of her hand to call me over. She’d saved me a seat. Jade, Kurt, and Dean found seats in the back.

“Hi, Madeline,” I said.

“Hey,” she said in a soft, condolence-filled tone that grated my nerves. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” I said as I sat down.

“You look . . . good,” she said, trying
not
to say what I could see on her face.

I looked like shit and we both knew it. She threw her arm around my shoulders and hugged me close. “When’s the last time you had a good night’s sleep and something to eat?” she asked, rubbing comforting strokes up and down my bicep. Madeline was a strong woman. She wasn’t fat; she was just a bit more masculine than some of the rest.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“I thought as much,” she said with a sad smile. “You know Amblan wouldn’t want you to waste away on her account. She loved food too much,” she goaded with a sly smile.

I tried to smile back but I knew it never reached my eyes.

I sat silently through the service as I watched everyone around me fall apart. I tried to focus on what the reverend said and what Amblan’s sister said as she gave the eulogy. The only sounds reaching my ears were the whimpers, sniffling, and sobbing of the people around me. My own voice echoed between the sobs.
This is your fault. All this pain and grief is because of you. You did this to them, and you don’t even care
.

The organ started and I stood when Madeline tugged me to my feet, not realizing the service was over. We filed out into the summer heat, silent most of the way down the center aisle of the church. I slipped the sunglasses on as Madeline leaned over and asked, “You need a ride?”

I shook my head. “I’m here with some people,” I answered in a low tone I hoped only she could hear.

She nodded and kissed me on the cheek.

“It’ll get better,” she whispered. She seemed
so
confident as she smiled up at me. I tried to return her warmth but I couldn’t. She patted me on the shoulder and strode away to a group of Amblan’s friends. I didn’t know them. I’d missed so much and now I’d never know what Amblan could have been.

Jade, Kurt, and Dean waited for me next to the car. I hadn’t noticed before we left, but Dean looked good. He was handsome in this three-piece black suit with a green shirt and tie that matched his eyes. It was cut to fit his muscular bulk and hugged his body like a glove. He stood stone still by the car and watched me carefully as I passed by, circling around him. I got into the car on the other side without a word. I was sweating and I’d only been outside for a few minutes. I couldn’t imagine what the guys felt like in their heavy wool suits.

We rode over to the cemetery in a thick, pregnant silence. The only sound was Jade in the back seat sniffling. Kurt had moved to the back and held her in his arms as she cried.

It could have been Jade
. I knew Kurt was thinking the same thing as his eyes met mine over her chestnut hair. I averted my gaze and stared out the window. I didn’t need him to tell me I’d fucked up. I already knew that. I’d put everyone I cared about in danger and two of them were dead.

How long before more died?

I slipped the sunglasses back on and hid myself behind their dark lenses.

The car stopped in the middle of a long line of other cars filling the cemeteries lane with vehicles of every make and model. I got out with my hat in hand and slipped it on once I realized we were going to be under the full rays of the July sun. I was grateful for the instant shade. The hat was a wide-brimmed black monstrosity that curved down around the edges giving me a barrier around my face and shoulders, with a stiff straw bow protruding out over the edge. I liked it. It hid me from everyone’s intrusive glares.

Am’s parents, sister, and brother surrounded the casket and sat down in the chairs provided. I trudged through the grass, sinking my heels into the soft earth in several spots an inch deep as I continued to the gravesite. Amblan’s titanium casket was covered in white roses, camellias, and a few yellow dahlias hidden in the mix. That had to be Alex’s doing. No one but the two of us would know dahlias had been included in the arrangement.

Patrick had spared no expense. He had no control over the wake, however, which was being held at Amblan’s parents’ home after the funeral.

Amblan’s mother sobbed openly and clutched her husband’s hand in her lap. He was crying silent tears and staring at the casket as if he couldn’t believe she was gone. If I was honest with myself, neither could I.

I stepped up to the end of the casket. Jade took up a post on my right and grabbed my hand as she cried. Dean stepped up on my left and placed a gentle hand at the small of my back.

As the mourners took their places and the reverend continued his sermon, I drifted off again. I should’ve been paying attention, remembered every moment of that day, but I didn’t want to.

I caught Amblan’s mother’s gaze, obviously not happy with me. Her eyes focused on me with a hatred I wasn’t prepared for.

The funeral progressed but I kept thinking about Amblan and our life together, about how I’d let her down. They lowered the casket into the ground and the mourners began to leave. I couldn’t seem to make my feet move, though. I felt like if I left, she’d really be gone. I didn’t want to leave her there alone, not when she had always been surrounded by people. It didn’t seem right. Someone should be there with her.

I didn’t see Amblan’s mother approach but I sure felt her as she struck me hard across the face. The sting burned across my cheek like a slight ripple of electricity through a copper.

“Hey,” Jade yelled in a surprised, angry tone.

“Now wait a second,” Dean said, throwing his arm in between Amblan’s mother and me.

I didn’t move. I didn’t even look away from her anguished gaze.

“She killed my daughter,” she screamed. “Look at her,” she cried, coming in for another strike.

Her husband, Amblan’s father, forcibly yanked her back.

“Now, Betty, you know that’s not true,” he whispered in his wife’s ear as he tried to direct the distraught woman toward the car.

“But look at her, Ben, she doesn’t even care that our girl’s gone,” she hollered over her shoulder, collapsing into his arms and burying her head in his neck. “Our girl is gone,” she sobbed into his jacket.

I turned to leave but Dean caught me, holding me by my biceps. He wouldn’t allow me to move or look away from his deep, olive-green gaze. I didn’t fight his hold as he tried to peer at me through the sunglasses. He released one of my shoulders and finally removed my sunglasses from my face. I still didn’t fight him.

“She’s wrong,” he stated as I stared at him with a blank, numb expression.

“No, she’s not,” I answered. My eyes finally welled up with tears and one after another slid down my cheek in warm streaks as I stared at him.

“Yes, she is,” Dean said, his voice firm and the edge of his words echoed a finality I didn’t want to argue with. He hugged me, wrapping his powerful muscular arms around me. He escorted me back to the car with an arm around my shoulder, keeping me pressed against him. He placed me into the car as if I were delicate and circled the car to the other side. Sliding in next to me, he eased me into his arms again, cradling me against his firm, broad chest. The driver started the car and left.

“What about Jade and Kurt?” I asked, watching the church get smaller through the rear window.

“They’re going to make our apologies at the wake and then order another car,” he answered as he stared down into what I knew was my red and swollen face.

“That could have been Jade, you know,” I said, searching for the accusation in his eyes.

Those warm olive-green eyes I’d come to adore softened. “Could’ve been you.”

I started crying again and he crushed me tighter into his arms.

“I’ll ruin your suit,” I said, trying to get away. I didn’t deserve his comfort.

“I’ll buy another one,” he growled.

I cried the entire 45 minutes back into town until the car parked in front of Patrick’s mansion.

“He won’t be up,” I grumbled into the lapel of his suit.

“Yes, he will.”

Dean and Patrick sat in the mansion’s office talking about my house. Patrick was behind his desk flipping through papers. Dean sat on the sofa, watching him.