Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗛e never imagined that he would be standing in front of two holes in the ground, clutching a eulogy and his fiancé's hand too tightly, in the name of his friend since diapers, and the girl he grew to love just as much. Not in a million years did he imagine that his twenty-three-year-old self would throw a handful of dirt on their caskets in less than an hour.
Isaac and Taryn deserved a longer service—they deserved more than an hour spent in their names, to share their memories, to celebrate their lives rather than mourn their deaths. He knew that, but more so, he knew that the time allotted for them was selected purposely. The people around him couldn't survive any longer—in the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't either.
Rain patted his hair against his forehead in harsh slaps as he continued to bore his eyes into the dirt holes that lingered just below the edges of their caskets. He winced as he reconciled the idea of them inside—or what was left. Taryn's body was nothing more than bones at the cause of the explosion, and because Isaac's was confiscated by the police before returned to his mother's name, neither of them were particularly pretty.
They wanted so badly to hold a wake first—to see the faces they'd known their entire lives before they were gone and buried for the rest of their own, but death was an evil dog, and their enemies worse.
Rueben turned his head to the side, forcefully pulling himself out of the fog of pain he was embracing, and shot a curious look at his fiancé. Rayne, despite it being warm, was shivering in her heels as she stared straight ahead, watching the sermon give his speech.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
"Yes, fine."
"You're shivering."
"I'll be okay," she looked up at him at the point, lips parted as her teeth chattered, "How are you holding up? It's almost time for you to speak."
Rueben let out a breath of air as he withdrew his hand from hers and pocketed his notes in the back of his pants. At the same time, he shimmied out of his suit jacket and placed it on Rayne's shoulders, receiving nothing more than a thankful gaze in his direction.
As he stared at her auburn hair, plastered to her cheeks in strings, and her dazzling, golden eyes, he felt bad for being so short with her earlier—he hadn't meant to, it just was one of those things that he didn't realize he was doing until it was already done. He knew, more than anyone, that he wouldn't survive this series of funerals if she wasn't by his side.
"I think I'm okay," he finally answered, squeezing her shoulders with his hands, "I don't want to do this, and I don't know how well I'll hold up on the stand in front of all these people, but I know that Isaac and Taryn won't rest easy if I don't say a few words."
