Alexander

My chest aches, and my throat is dry. From behind dark sunglasses, I stand with my hands in my pockets. Even in my grief I can’t find privacy from the reporters that stand at a barely respectable distance.

I purposely keep my head lowered and my emotions in check. Except for my fingers that tap anxiously against my leg while I stare at Shelly. I can’t help it. Her red hair is a flame against the sea of black. Her tears are the ones I can’t seem to muster. I’m a horrible friend that under this blue cloudless sky I’m not mourning. I’m plotting.

I wrap my arm around Sara Jane’s shoulders and hold her close as she cries, her sobs quiet, but every shudder is felt against my body. The words I overheard this morning come back. “You’re the best regret I ever had.”

I don’t want to be her regret. I want to be her everything. I’ll take the bad if I can give her good, but now I’m left wondering if I can. I’m afraid to let her go. That’s been my issue since the day I first laid eyes on her—I never want to lose her—the girl I thought would save my soul may end up being the one I lose it to.

Cruise is behind me and when I look back, he swipes the back of his hand over his eyes. My sadness mutates into anger. I can’t cry for Chad, but I can avenge him. O’Hare. Johnson. I may not have pulled the trigger on Johnson, but I’m not sorry. So who’s next? This web of deceit goes deeper than I once expected and I won’t be satisfied until they all pay the price for hurting the ones I care about.

Glancing at Sara Jane, I realize how lucky I am to still have her, but I don’t want her looking over her shoulder or scared. I don’t want to do that, but how do we not? Has too much happened to take back time, to take our lives out of this nightmare and return us to something bright like the sun shining above?

“Life is about finding the love that fits. I found that when I found you.” Sweat rolls down my back and more gathers along my hairline. My guilt is dripping like the heat of the day. I put him in that grave and the gravity of that is too much to take. Leaning down, I whisper, “I’ve got to go.”

She grabs my arm and holds tight. “No.” Whispering with finality on the subject, she says, “You’re going to stay.”

I stay. She’s right. I should feel every second of this pain.

When it’s over, we stay longer while others are passing condolences. I look at what’s left of our crew. Are we even a crew anymore? Friends? Family? Yes, my family.

Shelly.

Sara Jane.

Cruise.

And me.

My chest aches at the pain we collectively must suffer through, but seeing Shelly makes me realize it could be her as easily if I’m not careful. I whisper to Sara Jane, “I don’t want you to have to go through what Shelly is going through.”

Her arms tighten around me and she looks up. “Then don’t die on me, Alexander. I need you too much.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I didn’t die on you, so promise me you won’t die on me.”

“I’ll do my damnedest to live.”

Our hands find each other so effortlessly. She leans her head against my chest. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I don’t want our love to hurt you.”

“Love doesn’t hurt. Love heals.”

Shelly stares at us as the last of the mourners walk away. Her eyes are glued to mine. Even my sunglasses can’t shield me from her glare. “I will never forgive you.” Her gaze shifts to Sara Jane. “Or you. I hate that I had to see you today, so I never want to see either of you again.” She turns her back and starts walking away.

When Sara Jane cries, “Please, Shelly. I’m so sorry,” Shelly’s stride remains steady. Bending over with her arms wrapped around her middle, Sara Jane can’t hide her grief over losing a friend to death or in life. I understand Shelly’s anger and pain. She didn’t choose this life. It found her by association. But she will not cause my girl any more pain.

Taking her by the elbow, I say, “Stand up.” Maybe it’s the firmness of my tone or the way I’m gripping her, but Sara Jane’s tears cease and she stands. Looking at me, her expression contorts between the pain overwhelming her and her rational side listening to my reason. “You will not bend for anyone. Not even me. Do you understand?”

“No.”

Cruise walks toward the cars, giving us privacy.

I remove my sunglasses and tuck them in the front pocket of my jacket. I see Jason in the distance—standing guard, paying his respects—I have no idea, but he doesn’t bother me right now. I can deal with him later.

Looking into her eyes, her tears still linger. Her lips are red from the stain she chose today. It’s fitting in so many ways she’s still so damn oblivious. She’s gorgeous in her pain, the noble woman shining through. I say, “You will not cower nor cater to someone disrespecting you. Not now. Not ever. When you came back, you chose me. Stand by my side, Sara Jane, and don’t fucking cry over someone who treats you as if it was you who killed Chad.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“Former friend. She made that clear. Heed her words. If you don’t, you’ll pay for them later.” Releasing her, I say, “Go to the car and wait for me.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Alexander Kingwood.” And there’s the fire in her eyes I love and admire so much.

“I sure as shit do, and you can tell me what to do. Doesn’t mean we’ll always listen, but we have the right. That’s what we are—partners. Equals. So maybe I shouldn’t have demanded that last part. Sara Jane, will you please wait for me at the car? I want to speak to Shelly alone.”

“Why?”

Staring at her, I don’t indulge her curiosity because she won’t like the answer. She huffs and turns, following the direction that Cruise went. I stalk behind Shelly and call to her. “You don’t get to make the rules.”

“Leave me alone,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Stop, Shelly.”

“No.” She only walks about five more feet before she does though.

With her back still facing me, I say, “We have history. You and Sara Jane have history. We’re friends.”

Spinning on her heel just as she reaches the pavement, she asks, “Do we, Alexander?”

“King,” I correct her. Even in her grief, my habit comes back.

“I realize we don’t have anything beyond what you want us to have, which isn’t much, King.”

“What did you want that you didn’t have? I gave you guys money, jobs, a place to stay. I paid for Chad’s school because his parents couldn’t.”

“How about something real, a real friendship where your money isn’t involved, where you don’t buy people and toss them away when they aren’t useful to you anymore?”

“I don’t use people. I give them what they want to get what I want. If everyone wins, where’s the loss?”

“Chad’s life.”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t said it enough—”

Coming closer to her, she stands her ground. “Or at all.”

Lowering my voice, I say, “I’m sorry, Shelly. Chad and Cruise are the closest I’ve had to brothers. It may not seem like I care, but I loved him.”

“Then show it.”

“I am. I want you to come work for me.”

I barely get the words out of my mouth before I’m slapped across the face. With my eyes closed, I count to three to calm down. The sting still registers seconds after she hit me. When I open my eyes, she asks, “Did Chad or I mean nothing to you? How can you stand there and try to buy me back into your life?”

“I’m not buying you. I’m trying my best to make things right.”

“You can’t.” Her tears fall and the sight of her pain guts me.

“If not for me, for Sara Jane.”

She peers off into the distance where Sara Jane stands with Cruise and Jason. My sigh gives me away and she says, “You’re gonna lose her.”

My Achilles heel is too obvious. “Why would you say that?”

“Because she’s all you care about and someone will make sure to take away your favorite toy.”

“She’s not a toy.”

“You made her a target when you waged a war. Nothing good can come from your actions.”

“You think you see me so clearly—”

“I don’t. Chad did. Now I understood what he meant about you. You think you have to find certain answers to feel whole. You’re so focused on finding your mother’s murderer you’ve lost focus on everything else, including Sara Jane. What you fail to realize is you’re whole now.”

Chad. Chad and his wisdom.

“Once Sara Jane’s gone, then the dark will expose the holes her loss left behind. You’ll feel like I do now—destroyed. Unfixable. Broken.”

Why am I even entertaining this conversation? She’s a friend, I remind myself. Even if she hates me right now, I don’t hate her. Grief is powerful, and if she needs to take out her pain on me, I’d rather that than taking it out on Sara Jane. “Take care of yourself.”

I turn to go, but she says, “I found an email Chad was going to send you.” When my eyes hit hers again, she drops her guard, and I finally see her. Her fire amidst her grief. “He would want you to have the information.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a slip of paper. “Here. It’s his password. You’ll find the email in the draft folder.”

Looking down at the paper, I reply. “Thank you for this.”

“Don’t thank me. He’s the one who would have wanted you to have it.” She lowers her sunglasses and says, “And between us, I’m not sure if I can be the same friend Sara Jane had, and I’m probably not a friend she wants these days. Tell her I need time.”

It’s going to break Sara Jane’s heart, but I reply, “I will.”

I watch the girl with fiery hair leave with her head held high. I’ve given her some of the power she needs back and the respect she wanted. In honor of Chad’s life, his friendship, and brotherhood, I don’t mind conceding to her today.