“I was hoping you might come to the funeral,” Cole said after several long moments of heavy silence. “It’s on Tuesday.” He finally raised his head to look at Jonas and I was stunned to see tears swimming in his eyes. “Most of her friends have moved on-”
Before he could even finish getting the words out, Jonas closed what little distance there was between them and wrapped his arms around Cole’s neck. Cole seemed caught off guard by the move but then his hands came up to return the embrace. While it was an “all in” hug for Jonas, Cole seemed uncomfortable at first but then something shifted and I glimpsed a shroud of pain come over his face that was so intense that I actually took a step forward before I realized what I was doing. Thankfully, Cole didn’t seem to notice, because he’d tightened his hold on Jonas and buried his face against Jonas’s neck.
The sight of the two of them together clinging to each other did something strange to me and I actually had to retreat to the bathroom to collect myself. Because in that moment I’d felt like an interloper. Not just because I was intruding on such an intimate moment but because I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to share in what they were feeling and draw it from them. I wanted them to know that I understood loss. I understood it in my bones.
“Mace?”
At the knock on the door, I turned off the water that I’d been splashing on my face in an effort to settle my turbulent thoughts. Jonas was waiting for me on the other side of the door when I opened it.
“Is nine ‘o clock tomorrow okay?” Jonas asked.
I stepped out of the bathroom and glanced around the now empty studio. Jonas looked shaky, but he was dry-eyed so that was something. I wondered how Cole was doing and then cursed myself for the ridiculous thought.
“What?” I asked.
“Is nine a good time for us to go check out the lights?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said distractedly and then stepped past Jonas to grab my coffee thermos. “See you tomorrow,” I said over my shoulder as I hurried out of there.
“Mace!”
I cringed at the sound of Jonas’s voice behind me but forced myself to stop and turn.
“You forgot your check,” he said, the envelope clenched between his fingers. “You okay?” he asked as he handed it to me.
“All good,” I answered as I took the envelope, careful not to touch him since I didn’t trust myself at the moment not to drag him into my arms. It had been years since I’d been this off-balance and I could feel the crushing need to lose myself come over me. In the past I’d had the luxury of finding a warm body or a bottomless bottle of scotch or both to forget who I was, but since neither of those things were an option, I needed to get the hell out of there.
“Night,” I said without making eye contact with Jonas. I went through the motions of parking the van, but as I began walking towards my temporary apartment, I found myself stopping at a small, shabby liquor store. The feel of the paper wrapped bottle felt comforting in my hand as I climbed the stairs to the rat trap I was staying in but I knew that I wouldn’t be drinking even a drop of it. The first thing I’d do after unlocking the door was dump every drop of the pretty amber colored liquid down the kitchen drain. I couldn’t explain why the ritual worked for me, it just did.
That was the plan anyway. But as soon as the door swung open, I knew I wasn’t alone. It took just seconds to pull my gun from my ankle holster since my other one was tucked away in my toolbox. I began methodically clearing each room as I moved towards the back of the small apartment but once I reached the bathroom, I already suspected who my unwanted guest was. But when I stepped into the small room, I froze at the sight of the man holding my rifle, the barrel pointed in the same direction I’d been pointing it for the better part of a month. The scope that I had removed the day before was once again affixed to the gun. I glanced out the window and saw that Jonas was in his spot by the window, his paintbrush in hand, a blank canvas in front of him. At any other time, I would have been pleased to see him back to doing what he normally did, but in that moment all I felt was fear since I knew what an easy target he was. And Ronan Grisham wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger…nor would he miss.