The ground is wet, the wind cold, but it had stopped raining, giving me a small reprieve from where I stand next to the mound of dirt. It had long gone quiet since Ace’s burial a few hours ago, and yet I hadn’t been able to move from this spot.
It was a goodbye I was finding too hard to give.
Gravel moves behind me and I turn to see Eleanor walking towards me, a soft, gentle smile on her mouth.
Her hand slips into mine when she reaches my side, but she says nothing as she looks down at where Ace was buried.
Isobel hadn’t turned up for the funeral. I was pissed at her for it, but I suppose I got it too.
She was too close to getting what she wanted to risk losing it again, though it still fucked me off. Ace was family.
“We should head back,” I tell her.
She nods but doesn’t move to walk away, instead she reaches into the large bag I hadn’t realized she was carrying with her and pulls out a bottle of bourbon, twisting off the cap. She screws up her nose as she takes a swig from the bottle.
“That’s disgusting,” she rasps, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
I chuckle, taking the bottle from her and following suit. It burns all the way down.
I hand it back, expecting her to put it in her bag, so it surprises me when she lets go of my hand and steps forward, tipping the bottle and pouring the bourbon directly onto the fresh mound of dirt.
“Goodbye Ace,” she lifts the bottle, puts the cap back on and leaves the bottle in the dirt.
“Goodbye, brother.”
_
King does not let me go. Not when we get into the car and head back to the compound, not when we walk through the house, greeting people and accepting respects. He holds me tight, his thumb stroking across my knuckles, his lips brushing my hair. It’s only when I spot Tate, sat in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka dangling between her fingers and her eyes staring at a blank wall that he hesitates.
We hadn’t spoken much these past few days. I had tried, but she slept a lot and when she was awake it was much like this, her blankly staring at a wall or off into the distance.
I squeeze King’s hand, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He follows my eyeline and nods once, kissing me before letting me go.
“Tate?” She doesn’t immediately respond, so I gently touch her arm and her head snaps towards me. “Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” she nods, “Yeah I’m fine, tired.”
I nod, “Understandable.”
She nods awkwardly and puts that bottle down, frowning at it. She always held the bottles, but she never drank from them. She just held them and stared at them and then put them away.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I should,” She smiles sadly, reaching to grab my hand. “I’m okay, you know, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I do, though,” I admit.
She laughs, “I think it should be the other way round, I’d really like the story about how you found him.”
I roll my eyes, looking over to where she is. King leans casually against the wall speaking with Micha, but he looks over every now and then as if to check I’m still here.
“I didn’t find him,” I say truthfully, “he found me.”
“Be careful, Eleanor,” Tate whispers.
I nod, “I am.”
“I figured it out, what Garrett and his dad were doing. He was always shady and I’m nosey. It’s why he took me.”
“But he didn’t hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “Garrett was – is, I suppose, obsessed. During the time he had me, he kept telling me how we belonged together, that we would be together forever, and all that shit. He was a creep and I always thought there was something not quite right.”
“Kingston will find him.”
“He doesn’t scare me.”
“He should, Tate.”
She shrugs, “I’m okay, Eleanor,” she changes the subject. I stare at her face, she had more color now, her tan complexion glowing and her green eyes brighter than what they were, but there were shadows. I knew she was lying about being scared, she forgot how well I knew her, but I would let her have it. She wore a black dress today, her long blonde hair cut and shaped to how she liked it, so it framed her face.
She looked like my best friend, but not.
“I know but you know where to find me.”
She nods and then shoos me away, “Go back to your man. If he keeps looking over here like a lost puppy I might vomit.”
I tut and scoff my laughter, but I do as she says and head back to Kingston.
“Is she okay?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
He nods slowly, “Are you ready to go home?”
I smile at that. Home. With Kingston.
“Yes, let’s go home.”