Chapter 59
I’ve been watching her for a while, and to say that she looks bored would be an understatement. I can tell by the agitation in her body language that she wants to run away from the crowd, but I guess that’ll have to wait.
She’s wearing a black dress, and it perfectly outlines each and every one of her curves with how snugly it hugs her willowy frame.
I lean against the massive olive tree I’m standing next to, and slide my hands into the pockets of my green hoodie.
It’s not the best outfit for camouflaging myself, but hey, at least I tried.
There’s sweat trickling down my temples from how hot it is today, and it is only amplified by the hood concealing my features.
The people gathered at the cemetery stop their chatter when Chase and some of his guards bring out the casket. They’re burying Miranda’s remains instead of simply cremating her. A public show of commiseration, no doubt.
The officiator is saying something as the burial liner lowers the casket into the ground, and the media representatives surrounding the cemetery go wild – flashing their cameras and capturing pictures of the moment, and of Chase as he all but breaks down in grief.
I roll my eyes and look at Cignette again, and what I see makes a grin spread across my face.
She’s smirking at the dug-up hole in which the casket has just been placed, and there’s something about her expression that’s so beautifully aberrant, that it makes a fire burn in the very center of my chest. I don’t know what the hell it means, or why it’s as strong as it is, but what I do know is that it’s coming from so deep inside me, that it threatens to consume me entirely.
And if I’m being honest, I would let it scorch the fuck out of me if this is how it’ll make me feel for the rest of my days.
The crowd starts to disperse, and I watch as Cignette heads towards the parking area with Maverick. The ceremony’s over, it seems.
Turning away from the cemetery, I push back my hood, then ruffle my sweaty hair and start walking down the street to my Harley.