The sound that comes from my mother is unlike anything I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s a cross between a wail and a screech of grief that carves deep into my soul and leaves an aching, throbbing pain that leaves me breathless once more. Mom stumbles forward, then back, then her legs give way beneath her and I catch her as she falls.
“No!” she screams while that terrible wail continues to pour from her. “No! Not my Elio! Not my Elio! No, no! Why?” In my grasp, she turns to look at me with tears pouring down her powdered cheeks. “Why him? Why? WHY!”
My mother blamesme with every breath until I get her home and our doctor sedates her before she can cause harm to herself or anyone around her. It’s not the best move, but she’s besideherself with grief, and nothing I say gets through to her. The next few days pass in a haze.
My father and countless men died at the airport. The carnage was enough to draw the unwavering eye of law enforcement who watch us so closely that we have to suspend the deal with The Wolves to stop someone from walking into an unsuspecting trap set by the cops. They’re twisted enough to use this painful time to lock us all up and I refuse to lose anyone else. But halting the deal means we quickly start hemorrhaging money, and I try to stem that as much as I can while this deep, dark cavern inside me continues to grow.
The M.E delivers the bullet that killed my father and we start tracing it. Every man who died that wasn’t one of ours is under investigation with the help of The Wolves, and the only time I see someone who isn’t Chip is when my doctor tends to the wounds I sustained during the fight.
The haze lifts one night while I’m standing in the kitchen staring down an unopened bottle of vodka. It would be so easy to just give in to the urge and drink myself into a stupor just to fill this ache inside me. I focus on the label until the words and decorations blur together and I’m so distracted that a sudden rustle behind me makes me jump right out of my skin.
Whirling around, I see Maeve standing near the far counter frozen in place like a deer in headlights while clutching a fruit snack. Her eyes are wide and fearful as if she expects me to explode on her at any moment. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her since the airport attack, where she was whisked away to be looked over. Everything’s moved so suddenly and so fast.
How long has it been? A day? A week?
I don’t know.
“Sorry,” Maeve gasps. “Scott was hungry and I was—” She cuts herself off and whispers another apology, then she turns as if to flee.
I catch her before she can and she flinches at my touch, but I refuse to let go. “Maeve.”
“Sorry,” she gasps again. “I’m so sorry.”
Her wrist is warm and soft under my touch, but she trembles like she’s about to shake apart into a thousand pieces. I don’t have any space inside me for the confusion that briefly licks at my mind, so I pull her into the light offered by the ventilation above the stove.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Her eyes snap to me, wide like saucers. “What? N–No, no I?—”
“I haven’t seen you.”
“Well, yes, but?—”
“So you’re avoiding me.” Maybe it’s been less than a day and I’m being too harsh. Maybe it’s been longer. It could be a month, I can’t tell.
“No,” Maeve says with a bit more strength in her voice. “I… I didn’t think you’d want to see me so I’ve been focusing on Scott.”
My constant frown deepens. “Why would I not want to see you?” At a time where it feels like I’m holding myself together with tape and bad string, how could she think I don’t need her?
She blinks and suddenly her eyes are shining with tears while her arm continues to quiver in my grip. “B–Because of what happened?” I must look very confused because Maeve takes a deep breath then continues. “Your dad… I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.”
My grip tightens in an attempt to comfort her, but she flinches and rapidly shakes her head.
“Please, I’m so sorry. I feel so guilty and I understand if you hate me. I can’t sleep, I can’t do anything with this guilt, and I can’t imagine how angry you must be, but I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t run outside, if I hadn’t tried to take on those men, then your father would still be?—”
She chokes on the last word and closes her eyes, sending tears rolling down her cheeks.
It clicks fully in my mind. If I were at 100 percent, maybe I would have realized it sooner. She blames herself.
Something that never even crossed my mind.
“Maeve.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice steady. “I don’t blame you.”
“What?” She opens her eyes and stares up at me with her lips parted. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. You see this?” Motioning to the bruises on my face, I continue. “You saved my life. There’s no doubt in my mind that I would have died if you hadn’t distracted them long enough for me to reach my gun. You saved my life, Maeve.”
“But it cost you your father.”
