Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel (39 page)

Patrick nodded.

“No parent should have to bury their child,” she commented. “Twice,” she whispered.

“What?” Katrina asked.

“Twice, KK. I’m going to have to bury your brother twice.”

Patrick and Katrina looked at each other, equally unsure of what to say or do.

“I hope it’s easier this time.” His mother stood up and drained her glass, then disappeared into her room.

Chapter Thirty-Three

MY PERSON

The light filtered in through the many stained glass windows that lined the sanctuary, giving the room a soft glow. Patrick had made all these decisions, he thought, sitting in the front row of the church they’d attended as a family before Trevor had been shot. The spray of white lilies on the casket, the singing of Amazing Grace, the Bible verses read, he’d made every choice.
What the fuck did he know about flowers or what songs Trevor would want?
Patrick went to the funeral home himself because his mother had been hysterical and Katrina had to take her to the doctor to get some sort of medication.

After he left the funeral home, he’d gone to the mall and purchased a suit for Trevor because he didn’t have one. He picked a charcoal gray suit with a yellow shirt and a tie that pulled it together. The viewing was a blur; he remembered seeing several of Trevor’s friends from high school who came by to pay their respects. Patrick probably even spoke to them, but he didn’t recall anything clearly.

His sister’s sobs shook him out of his escape from this moment. That painful moment where a person stands up at a funeral and tries to make sense of death, tries to soothe those sitting in the room, looking at their loved one in a box. Patrick had decided there wouldn’t be anyone to speak other than the pastor. What would they say? How could tragedy strike this unlucky man twice in his lifetime? How sad it was that Trevor was so young? Patrick did believe in God, he did believe that you were supposed to live a certain way. He knew he hadn’t lived that way. He’d killed someone, and he couldn’t help wondering if this was some sort of sick karma.

He’d had to call his father to tell him that Trevor died and the time of the funeral. It was the first time he’d spoken to that man since he was 14. The conversation was stilted and one of the most difficult things Patrick had ever had to do. It wasn’t surprising his piece of shit father couldn’t make it. Not many people did make it.

“Patrick,” Katrina said again and grabbed his hand.

Looking up, he saw the funeral was over and people were leaving. He held his sister’s hand and wrapped his arm around his mother as they walked down the aisle of the church. He saw some of his extended family as they left, but he was more concerned with the fact his mother wasn’t even blinking.

Then he saw Jamie’s parents sitting in the back; he almost collapsed at the sight of them there. He fought all emotions warring in him, the injustice of his brother’s situation, the irrational/unwelcome sense of relief Patrick felt now that Trevor was at peace, and the fact that the parents of the friend he’d killed were there to support his family with their loss.

As his family walked from the Town Car he’d rented to drive them for the day, he was pulled to the side and embraced in arms so tight he felt an instant reprieve from the confusion he was feeling. He felt confident in these arms, these arms belonging to the only man who’d been like a dad to him in a decade.

“I’m so sorry, Patrick,” Frank whispered.

“Thanks for coming, Frank.”

“Of course.” Frank stepped back and looked at Patrick. “Do you need anything?”

Patrick shook his head.

“Patrick, you need anything, you call me.”

“Yes, sir.” Patrick nodded and then hurried to the front row so that they could get this part of the service over with. This was the hard part, the part where Trevor was lowered into the ground, forever. He hoped his mother would be okay. She’d been taking care of Trevor for so long, Patrick didn’t know if she would know what to do without him.

Patrick opened his eyes and took her in. She was still in her dress, but had kicked off her heels. Her black hair covered her face, her hands could be in prayer under her cheek—she looked angelic. She’d slept with him the entire night, her hand intertwined in his, trying to give him some comfort. He attempted to roll away from her on the bed. She startled awake and looked around in confusion. Realization spread slowly across her features, her slim nose and perfect pouty mouth that he wanted to take domain over brightening. She was softer somehow, like all her sharp edges were rounded.

Why did she still have this control over him? It was maddening
.

“Morning,” she croaked, wiping her eyes with her fingers.

Patrick rolled back over to face her, their faces inches apart. “Why are you here?”

“Because we’re each other’s person,” she answered.

“No, we aren’t.” Patrick examined her eyes. “Not anymore.”

“We could be...” Her voice broke. “I want to be.”

“All I want is to rip that dress off you and fuck you,” he said boldly. “That’s what I want.” He eased himself off the bed and rushed to the bathroom. The water hit his face, freezing cold at first, making goosebumps rise all over his body, and then the water got so hot it was burning off the emotions that sat on top of his skin. He hadn’t cried yesterday, he’d already shed all the tears he could for Trevor. His brother had lost everything 14 years ago; this was just the end of the road and a relief to his family.

Was it wrong to think that?

Patrick was confused by his thoughts of El. He was happy with Marly. He was moving forward without El, piecing himself back together, and then she showed up and reopened all of his wounds, the barbed wire tightening again.

He thought he heard someone knock on his door. He turned the water off, but El had already opened it and he heard a muffled male voice mix with hers. Patrick opened the door, the towel wrapped around his waist, to see Jesse embracing El. Jesse’s chin was on El’s head and his eyebrows lifted at Patrick in question.

“So, although I’m excited to see you, Stella...” Jesse started, his face giving away his concern.

“Ugh. He needed someone. I was here.” Stella pushed off Jesse’s chest and walked to the bed, where she sat down and began putting her shoes back on.

“Dude, I’m sorry I missed the funeral. I came as soon as I heard.” Jesse pulled Patrick into a hug. Jesse had been on vacation in Italy; Patrick couldn’t believe he flew back here for him.

“Thanks, man. It means a lot…you coming.” Patrick looked at El, who was fiddling with her phone. “Let’s go grab breakfast.”

“Sure.” Jesse smiled and went to where El was sitting and plopped down next to her on the bed.

Patrick’s heart clenched at them sitting together, so at ease with each other. She began showing him pictures of Liam; Patrick half-listened as Jesse praised the boy in all the right ways. He grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt and went into the bathroom to change. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about what it meant for her to come, hadn’t wanted to think about any unresolved feelings, any desire for her to whisper in his ear and tell him she loved him.

And she pulls me back in again.

Patrick eased into the booth next to El, forcing Jesse to sit opposite him. It was dumb, possessive, and just wrong. Her dress moved up her thigh as she scooted over and smiled at Jesse. They’d already waited in line to order breakfast and then sat with numbers, waiting.

El put out silverware for all three of them, but all he saw was her big fucking ring.
Fuck
. His heart still ached for her, to touch her, and she was fucking married and he was with Marly.
Why was it that he forgot everything when El was around?
He was right back where he was when he left—why does his mind do that? It’s easy to forget about her being in Atlanta.

His phone buzzed. It was Billy, he was here in Savannah, looking for them. Patrick texted him the address. He’d seen him and his girlfriend at the funeral, but Billy knew to give him space.

“So Stella, how’s life treating you?” Jesse asked.

She sighed and her breasts moved up and down, bigger than they used to be. “I’m fucking exhausted. Liam is a hurricane.” She smiles. “I guess he comes by it honestly.”

“I saw you on the news the other day.” Jesse took a sip of his orange juice. “Are you seriously representing the Congressman accused of raping his niece?”

“Ugh, my firm is,” Stella replied, hanging her head. “It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting.”

Fuck.
They were making small talk and all Patrick thought about was running his hands under her dress, up her thighs.

“Patrick?” Jesse asked, amused.

“Huh? What?” Patrick snapped his eyes away from El’s thigh to look at Jesse.

Jesse looked at him knowingly. “How long are you staying in Savannah?”

“I’m not sure. How long are y’all staying?”

“I’ll leave when you leave,” Jesse answered.

“I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, but I can certainly call George and let him know it’ll be later.” El tucked a stray hair behind her ear, looking down at her phone, oblivious to the conversation that Jesse and Patrick were having with their eyes. “What do you think?” she asked as her eyes rose to his.

He thought he saw longing in them that mirrored his, but it was just for a second.

“I think another day will be fine.” Patrick wanted to go back to the cemetery today, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do it alone. “Will you guys come back to the cemetery with me?” he asked.

“Of course, man. Losing your brother has got to hurt, even with...” Jesse’s voice died in his throat.

“All his struggles, he was still your brother,” El finished. She took his hand in hers. “The one who taught you how to play baseball and gave you the love of the game.”

Her fingers intertwined in his and his dick got so hard he thought it might break off. Thank God he was wearing a long, loose shirt over his jeans. He closed his eyes and thought about her words. His brother had been the star of his family until he was shot. Wrong place, wrong time. It had ended all his dreams, his parents’ dreams, their marriage, everything.
Shit
. At least he wasn’t hurting anymore.

Jesse reached over the table and grabbed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

El stood up and walked to the bathroom in the back before their food got there.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something,” Jesse said as soon as she was gone. “It might not be the greatest timing, but…”

“What is it?” Patrick wanted to talk about anything normal, especially if it wasn’t related to Trevor.

“I’m done with ball. I just signed a contract to do a talk radio show in the morning in Atlanta.”

“That’s awesome, man,” Patrick said sincerely. “Congrats!”

“So, um, I’m also starting a football camp that’d run every week during the summer for kids who want to play football, but can’t afford to pay for fancy camps. It’d be in Flowery Branch, I’ve already gotten it cleared. I just have to work out the logistics of where kids would stay and that sort of thing.”

Patrick stared at his friend, surprised and proud at all that Jesse had done.