Once you cry it out, and let it all go, you’re supposed to feel better, right? I did feel a little better, but something else was brewing. The feeling from yesterday was still with me and it didn’t have anything to do with my break down. I just knew something else was going on—I could feel it and it was painful. I didn’t know how to fix it.

Tray was asleep beside me, his arms folded around me, his words still in my ears.

I sighed, shivering slightly, but not from the cold. Tray had warmed me, inside and out.

But I shivered nonetheless, because I knew something had gone wrong. Deadly wrong. I knew that it would irrevocably change my life.

I knew it was a dream when I noticed I was with Brian in the woods by the school. He was in front of me, looking at me like he missed me. Why would he miss me? I just saw him the other day. He was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say. It seemed so surreal. I turned around, and I was back in the hotel bed with Tray. Brian was looking between Tray and me. He looked into my eyes and I saw how much he loved me. He was trying to give me a message. If I could just hear what he was trying to tell me…

“Brian,” I whispered, tears in my eyes.

He smiled, a tender, ethereal smile. An immortal smile.

“Brian,” I murmured again, confused and scared.

He gave me a smile. Tears were running down my cheeks.

Oh, God. His eyes gave away everything. He was telling me goodbye.

He turned and walked away. Brian was gone.

I jolted awake, tears running down my face. Somehow I knew that my dream was real. I found my phone laying on the bedside table. I had shut it off last night, because I knew Mandy would be calling me at all hours. I didn’t think anyone else would need to get a hold of me.

I powered my phone on and saw that I had twenty missed calls since yesterday afternoon—all from Geezer. I really didn’t want to call him back. I knew what he was going to tell me, and I didn’t want to hear it.

I jumped when my phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it, so I just stared at it. Tray woke up immediately. He took one look at me, saw I was awake, and then reached for the phone.

Seconds later, it started ringing again. He answered, “Yeah?”

A moment later, he looked at me and held it out for me to take.

I pressed it to my ear and murmured hoarsely, “Yeah?”

“Taryn.”

It was Geezer, but it didn’t sound like him.

“Geezer?” I sat up. I needed to know for sure. I had to hear it.

“Oh God, Taryn.” He broke down, crying uncontrollably.

“Geezer, what is it?” I was so fucking scared of what he was about to tell me.

“It’s Brian.”

Brian was gone.

“Oh God—” I broke out, the dam crashed and came tumbling down again.

“He,” Geezer paused, trying to get out the rest, “he…Taryn—”

“Charles,” hearing his name made him cry even harder, “what happened?”

“He…he was coming to see you. He’d…he said he knew what Jace had done. He was coming to tell you. Oh God, Taryn,” he whimpered.

“Charles,” I said softly, my heart breaking. I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. The bed sheet pooled around my waist, as I sat there, phone to my ear, waiting for Geezer to respond.

“I tried calling your cell, but I don’t think it’s turned on…it was a car accident.” It was the car accident we passed, the one that made me feel so uneasy.

I’d turned it off—I didn’t want to see how many times Mandy would call. I thought it would be ok.

I didn’t say anything. I held my breath. My heart was pounding in my ears.

“He’s…Brian…he’s…”

He’s dead.

I already knew.

“He’s dead, Taryn.”

I sat there. I couldn’t speak and it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Geezer was crying, whimpering like a child, and I just sat there. I didn’t have it in me to comfort him. I saw my reflection in the mirror—I was empty of all emotion. I turned it off, just shut it off so I couldn’t feel anything. I should know better, last night was the perfect example of what burying your memories and emotions can do to you But I just couldn’t feel right now. I wanted to be shut off—from everything .

Tray sat up and took the phone away.

He lifted it to his ear and asked, “Hello?”

I had to hear it all over again.

I heard Geezer tell Tray. And a moment later, after a quick conversation, Tray reached around and replaced the phone.

I sat there.

“Taryn,” Tray spoke.

I felt nothing.

“Taryn,” he tried again.

Still nothing. Time was frozen as was I.

Then I felt Tray’s fingers at my arm. He was pulling me up. And I stood there while he touched me, a cool slide of air hit me and then—I was dressed again.

He’d changed me. While I stood there, staring dumbly, as he knelt before me, his hands at my feet, trying to get my shoes on.

I stared at his back. I saw how large it was, muscular, strong. I saw the muscles bulge, slightly, with every movement he made, every turn he took.

Every reach he made.

He was standing before me, a bag slung over his shoulder. He had all the bags then and he grasped my elbow, pulling me with him. I blinked.

We were on the elevator.

My eyes closed.

We were at the front desk.

I blinked again.

We were in his car and I frowned—not knowing how we’d gotten there. Why we’d gotten there.

Oh that’s right—

Brian.

*

Brian’s pastor said all the right things. He told us to remember Brian as he would want to be remembered. How his life had been, to remember his strength and to remember his happiness. We were there to remember Brian. We were there to remember those who had passed on, their memories we’d cherish, to say goodbye, and to gain closure.

Brian was in the front, in a casket, his eyes were closed and he was in a suit. Which was bullshit. Brian would never wear a suit, much less to his own fucking funeral. Brian would want to go out in a t-shirt and torn jeans, frayed at the ends, and he’d want to be barefoot. I’m pretty sure the shiny black shoes he was wearing had never been his.

I was numb inside as I listened to the pastor’s nurturing voice, a calm atmosphere surrounding him.

We were there for us, ourselves.

The dead have passed on.

Brian had already left, said his goodbye, I felt it in my heart.

Death is a harsh reality.

Some understand death, embrace it, others fear it.

It’s an inevitable stage in life, no one can escape. So all we can do is cherish the life we have remaining.

Embrace those surrounding us, our loved ones and try to live without regrets. Change to become who we want to be when we meet death.

I wanted to meet death head-on. I didn’t want it to take me in my sleep. I wanted to see it coming. I wanted to know what was happening.

Brian hadn’t been prepared, but then again, Brian was dead. I doubt he cared anymore.

We’re supposed to make ourselves spiritually ready. To make right with God. To make right with everyone else, with ourselves. With our souls.

I listened to the pastor. I heard every word, every nuance.

Geezer sat beside me. He looked sober, but from the sheen of tears in his eyes, I knew he’d be smoking the second he could leave. He used it to cover everything: his distress, his despair, his fears.

He held my hand throughout the ceremony.

I looked for Grayley, but he hadn’t come.

But it seemed everyone else in Pedlam came. Students from school—I saw Gentley in the back—and even the chief of police—Brian would’ve thought that was hilarious. But I could only give a sad smile.

And of course, Jace was there, sitting in the front next to his father.

I looked at Brian’s father and I saw the life of abuse had worn right through him. He wasn’t old, a mere forty-two, but he looked eighty years old. He had tears in his eyes, while he sat stiffly beside Jace.

Their mother had left a long time ago. Brian had once told me she never existed. He’d been ten then. When he was fifteen, he’d confessed that she’d walked out when they were kids.

I looked back at Jace. He sat there, looking straight ahead at Brian as the pastor continued. He looked like he had aged ten years since I last saw him.

And I think I hated him.

Because he was the only one in that fucking church who felt the same as me, but he was so unreachable.

Tray shifted beside me and leaned forward on his elbows.

I looked at him and sighed. I remembered his words: he’d fallen for me.

He’d washed me, fed me, and changed me. He dealt with Mandy’s calls when we got back. He made arrangements—for everything. I wasn’t able to feel. I’d just…checked out.

And Tray had stepped in my place.

I ran my hand through his hair, feeling its softness, and trailed my fingers down his shoulder, his arm, and reached for his hand.

Tray looked up and gave me a small smile, before kissing my hand. Then he let our hands rest in his lap, where he was tracing my palm with his fingers.

I felt Geezer squeeze my hand again and I heard him draw in his breath. He was pale, trying to hold his emotions back.

I don’t know what inspired me, but I leaned over and kissed his cheek. I whispered, “Brian’s in a better place now.”

Geezer’s tear-filled eyes met mine as he listened.

I added, “We’re the ones who gotta pick it up. Bri’s gone,” my voice broke, “But he’s better than us.”

His tears fell and Geezer didn’t even try to brush them away as he squeezed my hand tighter.

I heard the pastor again. He was saying it is not that trouble does not come our way, it is that we can overcome it when it does come our way. And so we lift our prayers up…and God is with us.

I was done crying.

I’d shed my well, but I sighed anyway, knowing I’d be crying if they’d been there.

Tray sat up and drew me against his chest, his arms encircled me, and he kissed my cheek, while continuing to hold my hand.

*

When we filed out, Tray led the way with Geezer right behind me. We stood off to side, waiting for the processional to leave, for the casket to be raised and carried out.

I hadn’t realized who we were standing next to, but I felt someone reach out and touch my arm. Looking back, I saw Gentley with Kimberly.

He nodded to Tray, then looked at me, and murmured, “I’m sorry, Taryn.”

He sounded sincere.

Kimberly smiled, a soft, sad smile, and murmured, “I’m sorry too, Taryn.” Behind her was Crystal. She nodded to Tray and then hugged me. I was surprised, but I returned the hug.

A feeling of gratefulness came over me.

As we stood there waiting, more and more people came up to me and repeated their sympathies.

I felt like a widower—that my other half died, leaving me bereft—but it wasn’t true. I thanked God that I had a chance to say goodbye to Brian—literally and spiritually.

When the casket came out, I watched Jace, in the front end as he passed by.

He turned and met my gaze. His eyes were empty—there was nothing there—no emotion.

But then again, maybe that’s what he saw in mine.

As they walked on and around to the cemetery. We all filed along, gathering around as the pastor said another prayer. Brian was joining the earth. His body was here, his soul with God.

Jace stood to the side as the casket was lowered, and then covered with the earth’s ground. His aunt and cousin both threw roses in, while Brian’s father stood stoically beside his eldest son.

His favorite son in the ground. His favored son in the dirt.

“Hey, Taryn.”

I looked up and saw it was Ben, the rest of Jace’s guys were behind him.

“We’re sorry,” he said quietly, giving me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

Each one followed suit. Each gave me a hug, then a kiss, giving their sympathy and condolences.

Cammy was at the end.

She’d been crying, her make-up was running down her face. She reached and embraced me. “I’m sorry, Taryn.” Then she walked away quickly, hurrying after the guys.

Tray touched my elbow and I saw most everyone had left.

It was over.

We went inside, and I grabbed a rose from one of the flower arrangements—a keepsake—then we went back outside.

Geezer was waiting, glancing uncertainly around. I was reminded that Grayley hadn’t come, and it hurt. It really hurt—he should’ve been here, he should’ve been a part of this, sitting on the opposite side of Geezer.

“Hey,” I murmured, my voice hoarse.

“Hey.” He grabbed me in a hug, squeezing my entire body. In my ear, he whispered, “Listen…huh—”

“What?” I asked, standing in his embrace, long after conventional norms.

“Grayley’s missing,” he choked out, “I wasn’t sure about…I didn’t know what to say, but…he went to find Brian…and he never came back, if you know what I mean.”

When the words registered, my body went cold.

*

I’d told Brian that I wanted to know what Jace had done, what arrangements he’d made for me. Geezer had told me that Brian had found the answer and had been on his way to see me.

Brian was dead.

Grayley was missing.

And Jace was here.

I looked up, my arms still around Geezer, and I saw Jace standing at his car. He looked like he was waiting—waiting for me.

“Geezer,” I said, pulling away. I met his eyes, mine fierce. “Where did he go?”

He looked away, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Charles!” I said firmly.

“He,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “he…went to Jace’s. Brian called me from there. He said he had some information and that he was on his way to find you. He said you needed to know…and then…he never called us back. He was supposed to go and see you, then report back, but he never called. Grayley got antsy and took off to go find him. Then I got a phone call from a friend who works at the hospital; she knew I was close to Brian. She said a chopper went out to Rawley to pick him up. When I got to the hospital, Jace told me he was dead.”

I turned away, my arms hugging myself. I was shivering.

“Taryn,” Geezer mumbled, “what are you…I mean…what are you going to do?”

“Do?” I asked numbly. .

“Yeah, I mean…we gotta find Grayley, you know? He’s my best friend.”

“Mine too,” I mumbled, my eyes only seeing Jace. His eyes were still blank. “Mine too,” I repeated.

Geezer sighed a deep shuttering breath.

“Fuck…,” he groaned. “I could go for a joint, like, right now.”

“Geezer,” I snapped, “stop it! Just stop it!”

Taken aback, looking confused, he asked, “Huh? What?”

“Stop living your life on marijuana. Weed’s not going to get you anywhere, you’re wasting your life. It’s gonna ruin everything for you. So just…stop.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No, Geezer. Stop it.”

“I can’t talk to people unless I’m high,” he debated.

“You don’t talk to people anyways. You hole up in your house and get high. You’re not doing anything. Go back to school—Brian would want you to go back to school.”

“Come on—”

“Who do you want Brian to remember?” I asked. “The Geezer who doesn’t do anything and just gets high all the time…or do you want to be someone else? Someone Brian would be proud of?”

He glanced away, torn. Pained.

I gentled my voice, “You don’t give a shit about your life. But I do. Do it for me, at least until you can do it for yourself later.”

He still wouldn’t look at me. The topic was too personal, too raw for him, but he’d heard me. It was all I could do for him.

“Taryn,” Tray spoke up, his hand touching my elbow, “we should go.”

“Okay,” I murmured to myself, feeling my feet following behind. As we approached his car, I saw Jace straighten from his. He took a step towards me, hands in his pockets, his tie flapping in the wind over his shoulder.

I saw the intensity in his eyes as our gazes met, but I looked away. I had an awful feeling that Jace had a part in Brian’s death and I couldn’t face him, not now.

“Taryn—” he started as Tray led me past him.

Tray let go of my elbow and walked to his side of the car. As he unlocked it, I stood there, facing away from Jace.

Standing beside me, he spoke earnestly, “Taryn, look at me.”

I didn’t acknowledge him. I couldn’t. I’d go off and I wasn’t going to do that at Brian’s funeral.

“Can you please just stop…please?”

“No.” I turned to face him. “Brian found something out, didn’t he? Something that you did to me and he was going to tell me. And now he’s dead. Kind of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

Jace paled. “It’s not…that’s not—”

“Fuck you,” I bit out, climbing inside the SUV, I slammed the door.

*

As Tray left the church, I spoke, quietly, “This isn’t about you, it’s not about your dad, it’s not about Galverson. It’s about me and Brian…and whatever Jace is hiding.” I looked up and met his gaze.

“I’m going after him,” I announced.

Tray didn’t say anything, but turned the wheel. He pulled into the nearest parking lot and stopped the engine. Sitting back, he asked, “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“Yes. No. I don’t care.”

“Taryn, it is about Galverson, whether he’s your focus or not. Jace is connected to Galverson, so whatever you find—will have Galverson’s prints on it too. You’ll have both of ‘em gunning for you.”

“Jace knows what happened to Brian.”

“Yeah, probably,” Tray murmured, rubbing his jaw, “but it doesn’t mean he killed him. It doesn’t even mean he found anything out.”

“I told Brian that I wanted to know what arrangements Jace had made for me. I told Brian that and then he told Geezer that he found out. He was coming to tell me. He found something out…and now he’s dead.”

“If it was so dangerous, why’d he leave a trail and tell Geezer that?”

“Grayley’s missing,” I exclaimed. “He went to find Brian when he didn’t call…and now he’s missing. Grayley’s missing and Brian’s dead. I can’t sit back anymore.”

“Even though it might be you in a casket next?” he asked tiredly.

“Tray—”

“I mean it, Taryn, you go after Galverson and chances are fucking high it’ll be your fucking funeral next time. I don’t want to go that fucking ceremony.”

“My best friend is missing. I can’t lose him too,” I pleaded.

“Oh come on!” he cried out, pissed.

“You took him on once before. Help me this time. Help me finish him for good,”” I begged.

“Please,” I asked again.

“Taryn,” he hedged, shaking his head.

“I’m one of the best there is, I can get anywhere, Tray. Anywhere. I went in blind and got into a police station. A fucking police station! I can do that, I can go anywhere with planning. I already have some stuff.” At his quick glance, I told him, “I haven’t looked at it, not since I decided to leave it alone.”

Tray swore.

“Your family’s alive,” I spoke. It was true, but Tray had already lost them. He’d already lost his family. “Brian’s dead.” And I lost something similar. “I can’t lose Grayley too.”

“Fuck…Taryn—”

“Brian’s dead,” I bit out. “I’m going after him whether you’re with me or not.”

“Oh—”

I stopped, pleading with my eyes. “You know how to do this. You know how to take him down. You know so much about their fucking world—things that I could never know. Please, Tray, you did it when you were in the fucking eighth grade. You did it when you were a kid. We’re not kids anymore.”

After a second, I could see his decision flash in his hazel eyes and I grinned. It was time for war.