His struggle for breath.
His fight for life.
His fear.
The way his blood soaked hand had reached for me, tugging at my shirt, begging me to help him.
The whip of the bullet as it punched into his forehead.
I sank to the floor and buried my face in my arm, my body wracked with pain.
I had loved him.
My whole life.
And now my friend was gone.
I sobbed harder and let my grief take over until I couldn’t cry anymore. Until my self-preservation finally showed up and I was able to steady my nerves and calm my heart.
I drew in a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes. And when I was sure I was able to hold it together, I rose to my feet and went to the basin and splashed water on my tear-stained face.
I had to hold it together for Abby.
And Cade.
This was going to devastate him.
Dressed, I felt calmer. Steadier. Composed. Strong enough to see Abby. I went downstairs and my mom was waiting for me in the kitchen.
“You look better,” she said. She came and stood in front of me, taking me by the arms. “You’ve got this, okay.”
Mom drove us to Abby’s. It took us twenty minutes and I barely waited for the car to stop before running up Abby’s driveway to her front door. I didn’t even knock, I burst through it. Abby was at the dining table, an untouched cup of coffee in front of her. When she saw me her face crumpled and she started to cry, her whole body shaking with her grief. I went to her and wrapped my arms around her, letting her cry uncontrollably into my shoulder. And even though I didn’t want to, I started to cry with her.
“You were with him?” she asked, pulling back, her icy blue eyes red from crying.
I nodded. “We were coming back from Head Quarters. Someone set fire to it. We went out there to check it out. On the way back . . .” I had to pause to catch my breath as memories floated up and made my heart hurt. “. . . it happened so fast.”
Abby started to cry again.
“I want to see him,” she sobbed.
Ronnie and Mom exchanged concerned looks.
“That’s not a good idea,” I said gently.
“I don’t care, I want to see him.”
I thought of the bullet in Isaac’s forehead.
“Honey, he won’t look like him,” I said, my voice shaky. “He was shot in the head.”
Abby’s face collapsed in agony. She struggled to breathe and exhaled slowly, trying to regain her composure, but failed when she thought about what I was telling her. She ran her shaking hands up and down her thighs to try and steady them.
“He’s gone, Abby. And seeing him that way . . . it’s only going to upset you more.”
“I don’t care,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, baby?” Ronnie asked.
Abby stood up so fast her chair almost toppled over.
“We grew in a womb together for thirty-seven weeks. We came into this world together. For thirty years he has been my best friend. Not just my twin. We talk every single day and tell each other everything.” Her face collapsed again as another spear of pain ran through her heart, because in that moment she realized she would never hear her brother’s voice again. She turned to look at me. “Will you take me?”
I thought about it, and then nodded. I knew how it felt to lose a brother. I knew what the big hole in her heart felt like and I understood the importance of what she wanted to do. She would never share another moment with him, unless she did this.
“Good,” she said with a newfound calm. “I’m going to get my jacket and then I’m going to go see my brother.”
CADE
The frigid air of the morgue made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was like the subtle stench of death lingered in every breath you took, reminding you that the cold kept the reek at bay, and that out there in the heat the smell would be much worse.
I was waiting for Indy and Abby inside when they arrived. Indy saw me and quickly came to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her face to my chest. The familiar warmth of her embrace and the scent of her was a welcome break from the tortuous pain in my heart. Her scent. Her touch. It brought me the only relief I’d felt since this morning and I closed my eyes, pressing my lips to her hair and savoring the comfort even though I knew it was going to be brief.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“Mom rang . . . are you crazy? Bringing Abby here?” I whispered back.