Explosive

44 || The End

The faint scent of roses permeates the air around me. Some of the flowers are fresh, vibrant shades of pink and red. While others are darker and wilted. There are some graves barren of any flowers, graves of people long forgotten.

Holding back tears, I set my flowers into the metal vase, wiping away at the cobwebs inside. Falling onto my knees, I trace the engraving on the plaque, struggling to find the words.

"They did it. They figured out who did this to us." A painful pause follows. It's silly to expect a response but for a moment there I thought my mom would say something. That she would appear and pull me close, tell me how proud she is for not hurting Todd.

A month has passed by since the night at Todd's house. The three brothers are currently in jail, awaiting their trials. There are whispers that Todd is pointing fingers at Hunter, suggesting that he is to blame for the armed robbery. Nonetheless, it will be a while before Todd tastes freedom.

Detective Tyler Miller has lost his badge and will also probably serve a heavy sentence for helping his brothers. Turns out he had been covering up any leads that came up even before he was assigned to the case. Without his guidance, Todd and Hunter would have been discovered months ago.

We were told later that Ty was planning to "take care" of us in the garage. He had carefully laid out tarps across the floor and even had some taped to the wall. Seeing the pictures of the garage made me lose the contents of my stomach.

"It was so scary. It is still scary." My nightmares are plagued with the sounds of gun shots and blood, so much blood. "I thought I almost lost him."

Blake is leaning against his truck, arms crossed and watching me. The bullet grazed his shoulder, missing major organs. Ty could have killed Blake but he didn't, something that still doesn't make sense to this day. Perhaps he felt guilty for his actions or had given up on trying to save his brothers.

"I wish you could have met Blake," I whisper, arranging the flowers in the vase. My mom would have liked someone like him, a boy with a tough exterior but a good heart. I had been so wrong about him. The only reason he had the articles and drawings was because he was trying to help me.

A few years back, before Blake was close with Mr. Smith, he had pocketed a couple hundred dollars at Smith's. Blake's grandma was mortified when she found out and made sure to never let him forget it. That day at his apartment she wanted Blake to tell me about "the crime" he committed in his youth.

I stand up and look at the sky. There is not a cloud in sight today. Blake is standing beside me now and grips my hand lightly. He dips his down and meets my eyes. "Hey," he whispers. We walk towards his truck, heart heavy but also full of relief. My mom's murderer is off the streets and justice will be served.

In the car, Blake knits his fingers in mine and then grazes his lips against my knuckles. "Thank you," I say to him after being on the road for a few minutes.

"For what?" He raises an eyebrow at me. His hair falls over his eyes and he brushes it away. The window is opening, letting in the crisp, cold air.

"For being there for me and Josh. For helping me that day." I stop and let out a breath. "And thank you for giving me another chance."

He doesn't respond right away, fiddling with the knobs for the radio. A song by Oasis suddenly starts playing and Blake turns it up.

"And thank you for shining brighter than the stars. Thank you for being the light that guided me out of the darkness."