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Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2) by Laramie Briscoe (27)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Tank

The next morning, we both wake up somber and apologetic toward each other. “I’m sorry about how everything played out yesterday,” I hold Blaze’s head on my chest, running my fingers through her soft hair. “What happened was not at all how I meant for things to go, but if it got everything out in the open for us, then I’m willing to be thankful.”

She’s quiet for a few moments before she kisses my bicep, then raises her eyes to meet mine. “I regret us regressing back to saying mean words to one another. We could’ve had a peaceful discussion if we wouldn’t have been so hot-headed, but like you, I’m glad it’s all out in the open. I’ve wanted to tell you about Annabelle for a long time, but I didn’t know how to approach the conversation. With my parents acting like she never existed and I’m an only child, I never know how to tell anyone about her.”

“Do you want to tell people about her?” I ask. I’ve been up for a long time watching her sleep, going through the memories of us being together, trying to put together the pieces that make up this woman I love.

Propping herself up on her elbow, she gives me a gorgeous smile and her eyes shine bright. “I’ll tell anyone who’ll listen about Annabelle, it’s just hard for me to talk about her.”

I grab her free hand, pulling it up to mine for a kiss. “People say the more you talk about things that are difficult, the easier they get.”

“I know, but I’m never sure how to start out the story. I’m never sure how much to divulge. There were so many angles and crevices to her, you could know her your whole life and still not know everything there was to know. I found journals after she died, and some of those journals shed some light on what was going on inside her mind. She had to have been so scared, Trev,” she swallows roughly. “To not have any help, to be self-medicating because that’s all she knew how to do. Some days I hate myself for not seeing it.”

“Babe, even if you did, you wouldn’t have known what to do.”

There’s been one idea in the back of my mind since I woke up early this morning. It woke me up from a dead sleep and I kind of feel like it’s Annabelle’s way of making sure Blaze does something amazing. “What if you could help people in the same situation?” I ask, carefully, not wanting to step on her toes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if you use some of the money you hate so much to set up a trust and a program to help young adults whose parents don’t understand what they’re going through? What if the program helps these young adults become medicated – if they chose to be – and it gets them the counseling they need to deal with the highs and lows of their condition? You have a great foundation in knowing what Annabelle needed, babe, all you need is someone to help you make this work. Hell, I bet Whitney could get you into contact with the right people.”

I say it all in rush so I can get all the words out. I don’t want her to stop me until she hears my full idea. It’s not a full business plan, per se, but hopefully it’s enough to help her figure out where she can go with the rest of it. Suddenly there are tears streaming down her face and she’s throwing herself at me. “Thank you, Trevor. Thank you for wanting to help me give her a voice. I thought about things like this in the past, but I wasn’t sure how to ever make them work. You’re right, Whitney is the best person for me to ask.”

“And I’ll help you as much as I can,” I rub my hand up and down her back. “I want to be here for you, through everything. I never want to force you to make a decision again, especially when I don’t know the full story. Please don’t keep things like this from me. We’re a unit,” I pull her face back from my shoulder, making her look at me. “Even if it’s hard, we have to communicate. I don’t ever want what happened to us here, to happen again. We wasted time, baby,” my voice is strained as I try to properly convey my feelings. “What if we’d never gotten the time back like we have right now. If it had been you in that truck, and I found out later all this shit was what kept us apart? I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

Tears streak down her face. “Then you know how I’ve felt since I saw you in that truck,” she sniffs. “It’s not been easy, and there’ve been times where I wanted to tell you, but the subject of my sister is so taboo in my family,” she shrugs. “It’s just hard.”

“She’s not taboo between us, Blaze. I can’t imagine if something ever happened to Whit, never talking about her again, never acknowledging my love for her. God, it would kill me.”

Her voice is pitiful as she squeaks out. “It does, I feel like her memory dies every day that I don’t talk about her. But at the same time it’s like this whole town has been brainwashed and nobody remembers her.”

I sit up, bringing her with me, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “I don’t think that’s it. I think people who knew her take their cue from your family. How many men in this town have died overseas? Do you know?”

She looks up at me from where she lays against my chest, and I can see her counting in her head. “Five? If I remember correctly, five.”

“Twenty,” I correct her. “Twenty men who left wives, girlfriends, moms, dads, kids, grandparents, friends and other family. You remember five, because those families talk about their loved ones. They wear the deaths of those men on their cars with their yellow ribbons, some of the grandmothers still wear the pins of those professional soldier portraits they wore while they were deployed. They never took them off so no one forgets the sacrifices they made. Us not talking about the dead lets their memories fade further and further away, Blaze. We have to honor them, make sure they live on in our hearts and minds. If we, the people who knew them best don’t, then they will be forgotten. I don’t want that for your sister,” I entangle our fingers together, bringing them down to rest over my heart so she can feel it beat. It beats for her, and always will. “When we get married and have kids, I want them to know her as well as they know Whitney. It’s the right thing to do, and if it means this much to you, it’s what I want to make happen for you.”

She’s sobbing uncontrollably now, and I know the only thing I can do is hold her – let her get out the years of repressed sorrow. I’d be devastated if someone didn’t let me mourn my sister, and I think it’s past time Blaze was allowed to mourn hers.

Blaze

When I wake up again, Trevor is still laying with his arms wrapped around me, leaning against the headboard. I use my fingertips to trace the ridges of his ab muscles before I move up to the tattoo of the eagle across his chest. When I start circling his nipple with my nail, he grabs hold of my hand, his voice deep with sleep. “Watch what you’re playing with there.”

I love the way his voice sounds right as he wakes up. It’s been one of the best parts of us living together. I give him a soft smile. “You know, I have something I think I want to do today with you.”

He smiles back, the motion breaking his face into the laugh lines you can still see above the beard he’s sporting. “What is it you want to do with me?”

I’m careful with the next words because I’ve never spoken them to another human being before. “I want to take you to meet Annabelle.”

His sharp intake of breath and the way he squeezes me in his arms is everything I need to know. “Let’s go today, let’s not put it off. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can move on with one another.”

I know he’s right. We’ll both still have instances where we’ll fear for each other. It’s inherent with the jobs we have, but I’m with him, I feel like once this is completely all out in the open, we’ll be able to move on. I’m so ready to do that with him. “Let’s get dressed and go.”

*     *     *

We stopped and got Annabelle’s favorite flowers. She was a lot like me, didn’t give two shits about the money my parents cared so much about. She loved bouquets of wild flowers you could get at any supermarket. Pink, purple, red, and yellow were her favorite colors.

“She’s over here,” I pull Trevor along through the nice area of the Laurel Springs cemetery. I’m still surprised they paid to have her buried here. Part of me wondered if they would cremate her and then spread her ashes. It killed me to think I wouldn’t have a place to come talk to her. The funeral had been held late in the afternoon, only immediate family had been invited, and then we’d moved on like nothing had happened.

Coming to a stop in front of her grave marker is always the worst for me. Seeing her name there is final, and for the longest time I couldn’t look at it. Every time I would go visit her, I’d bring something to cover it up with. I hate how my mom and dad put beloved daughter on the stone. They don’t love anyone but themselves. I drop his hand, reaching in to clean the gathered grass and dirt off the bottom of the stone, before I arrange the flowers in the two vases. “Hey, Anna,” I kiss my fingers before putting them to the picture of her at the top of the marker. “Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve been here, but I brought someone to meet you.”

Trevor and I have a seat on the grass, both quiet for as we take in the serenity of the spot. “His name’s Trevor,” I finally continue, my voice breaking. “I love him and I would love for you to actually be here right now to meet him. I think you’d really like him,” I wipe at the tears streaming down my face. “He makes me laugh, he loves me like no other person ever has, and he doesn’t put up with my shit.”

Trevor laughs at that, putting his arm around my neck and pulling me to him. “I put up with your shit about as much as you put up with mine.”

“She would have loved you,” I whisper. “She loved to laugh and to know you put a smile on my face every day, it would have meant the world to her. It means the world to me. Even when we’re upset with one another, I can still think of something you’ve said or done and smile.”

Trevor speaks then, surprising me with his words. “Annabelle, I’m sorry I never got to meet you and I have a feeling you cared more about Blaze than your parents ever did. Your mom is a total piece of work – I’ve met her.”

“Amen to that,” I laugh through my tears.

“More than anything, I hope you know I love her, and I’d do anything in the world to make her happy. We’ve had some rough patches, but we’re learning from them and moving on. I want you to know I’ll take care of her,” he pulls me closer to him. “Not that she really needs anyone to do that, but sometimes she needs a shoulder to lean on. I’ll always be there for her, Annabelle. I’m in this with her for as long as she wants me.”

I’m crying, feeling so emotional about this whole thing, but at the top of the big pile of emotion is relief. I’ve finally been able to share one of the most important people in my life with one of the other most important people. There’s nothing holding me back now. “I love you, thank you for doing this with me, and thank you for suggesting I keep her memory alive. You’re right about that and it’s something I’m going to look into.”

There, on a warm March afternoon, I realize I’m where I need to be, where I’m supposed to be, and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. I’ve never felt so safe in my life, and it’s because of the arms wrapped around me, and the man at my side.