“Then we need to stop Blake.” Her earnest gaze held mine.
A shaky exhale escaped me. I didn’t want to keep fighting. Look what my need to fight had caused. I’d lost my only friend. I should go home and tell Ethan’s dad he’d lost his son. As soon as I had that thought, I realized the man probably wouldn’t care; and his indifference would cause me to do something I’d regret. More tears slid down my cheeks. Ethan and I...we’d really only had each other.
And now Ethan was gone. If I wanted to keep Ethan’s death from being pointless, if I wanted to avenge him, I needed to stop Blake.
The hate inside me grew.
I would kill Blake, just as he’d killed Ethan.
* * * *
After Bethi left, the others gave me solitude. Though she hadn’t directly touched on the subject of the group’s need to keep moving, our conversation must have appeased them in some way. That or they’d realized the truth in her words; if they pushed me, I’d push back.
With a broken sigh, I closed my eyes and slept some more.
When I woke with tears already wetting my cheeks, it was light outside. How much time had passed? A day? Two? How long had Ethan been gone, taken from me? I hurt inside, but more than that, I hated. I hated deeply. And it was all mine. In fact, I didn’t feel a single emotion around me.
Someone knocked on the door, startling me enough that the tears stopped. I knew who it was. Carlos.
“Come in.” I didn’t sit up. I didn’t look at the door. I didn’t want to see him. He’d pulled me back from the edge, and I wasn’t yet sure if I was thankful or angry about it.
“Today’s the funeral,” he said softly. “We should leave in twenty.”
His words made my heart stop. I nodded but curled tighter under the covers as the door closed again.
Bury Ethan? I hadn’t thought beyond losing him once I’d woken up again. Now, I could see him one last time. It wasn’t how I wanted to see him, but it was all I would get.
With effort, I pulled myself from bed and padded to the bathroom. I’d gotten up several times before but always in the dark with the lights off. On this trip, I finally caught sight of myself in the mirror and stared in shock. I looked scary as hell.
Bruises, interspersed with hairline abrasions, colored my face. Capillaries had burst, giving my skin a mottled, red hue. My eyes were freakishly bloodshot. I leaned closer to the mirror and realized they weren’t just bloodshot; capillaries had burst there, too.
The marks on my side hurt and were covered with gauze. But there were many more bloody lines crisscrossing my skin that weren’t bandaged. Most of those fissures had already scabbed.
As if seeing the damage made it more real, I started to ache all over. Only then did I realize the pain I’d felt inside had blocked the reality of the damage to my outside.
I stared at myself, seeing what happened when I pulled too much. It wasn’t good. Bethi’s question about hurting on the inside took on new meaning. I’d been so close. Ethan would have been pissed if he’d seen me. Bethi was so right. How close had I been to joining Ethan? Fresh tears started as part of me wished I had joined him.
Reaching into the shower, I turned on the water for the first time in days. I didn’t wait for it to warm but stepped into the cold stream and shivered. As the water cascaded over me, I carefully washed, trying to keep the bandaged parts dry. The water warmed as I rinsed, but it didn’t penetrate the cold in my soul. I turned off the shower and stepped out.
The motions were right—I dressed and combed my hair—but the life behind them was wrong. Tainted. The hate I carried inside was so alien. Sure, I’d thought I’d despised people before. But the new hate that dwelled within me...I wanted to burn the entire planet.
It wasn’t just the hate, though. The consuming guilt that was trying to drown me weighted each movement. Still, I forced myself to keep going.
It felt odd walking out of the bedroom. I wandered down a hall and found Carlos waiting by the door. I didn’t look up at him. I couldn’t. I stared at his shoes.
“Ready?” he said, moving to open the door.
Was I ready to face Ethan?
“No,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. Guilt ate at me. How was it that I couldn’t save him?
Carlos stopped and turned back to me.
“I just left him. How could I do that? How long did he lay there, alone?”
“He wasn’t alone. You stayed with him. I didn’t move you until...”
I liked that he seemed to know I didn’t want to hear more. Swallowing hard, I thought about how I’d pulled after Ethan had fallen.
“How many did I hurt, Carlos?”
“All of them.”
“How bad?”
“Dead.”
I took a slow, deep breath and exhaled. That meant there were fifty less of Blake’s men. It also meant that I’d killed the man who’d taken Ethan from me. A little of the hate stopped boiling.
“Good.”
But I knew the fight wasn’t done yet. I still needed the man who’d sent the Urbat. Blake. I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Are there more of them coming?”
“No. Since the attack, they’ve stayed clear. Gabby says they seem to know where we are but aren’t making any moves toward us. The way north is open for us when we’re ready.”
The group’s willingness to leave me alone for a few days made more sense now. It would give me some time to heal. Luke, too, I thought, recalling his injuries. I couldn’t remember any of them fighting after Ethan fell, though.
“Was anyone else hurt?”
Carlos was quiet for so long, I finally gave in and looked up. Faded bruises and scars from healed claw marks riddled his face.
“No one else,” he said softly.
I looked away. Shame filled me. I’d done that to him. I couldn’t remember most of the fight. Just the rage.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“Would he let you apologize?”
I knew he meant Ethan.
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“Then, I won’t either. I’m here when you need me. However you need me.”
I nodded, and Carlos opened the door. Outside, the rest of the group waited by the cars. Their pity swamped me. I took it away, just so I wouldn’t have to feel it anymore.
“Isabelle, don’t,” Bethi said. “You need to keep it under control. You can’t handle another break like that again. Trust me.”
I didn’t look at her. Instead, I turned to Carlos. “Which car?”
“We’ll ride alone,” he said and motioned me to the last car.
I went to it, got into the passenger seat, and waited while he shut my door and walked around the car.
Today, I would bury Ethan, our past, and our future. The thought robbed me of breath, and my eyes began to water.
The door opened, distracting me, and Carlos slid in behind the wheel. While he went through his pre driving checklist, the first two vehicles pulled out of the driveway. We followed at a distance. It was a quiet ride. My thoughts whirled around what-ifs and should-haves. Regret burned my stomach, and grief ate a hole through my chest. It hurt to breathe.
The ride didn’t take long. We pulled into the empty parking lot of a funeral home. As soon as I stepped from the car, I felt disconnected from reality. The wind brushed my hair aside as I walked toward the building, but I couldn’t feel the temperature of it.
Carlos held the door for me. The smell of potpourri greeted me as I stepped inside.
I kept walking down the hall then turned into the open parlor on the right. A coffin waited at the front of the large room. There were only a few chairs before it, the sum of Ethan’s life. Like a sleepwalker, I moved forward.
He lay as if sleeping, his serene face powdered with life-like color. I stepped up onto the platform with him and laid my hand over his stomach. How could someone do this to him? Silence him? Ethan brought laughter. Ethan was life.
I was angry, hurt, confused, and alone. I needed someone to talk to, someone to help me through the chaotic thoughts in my head. But whenever I’d had a problem, I’d always talked it out with Ethan. And Ethan wasn’t there anymore.