Casey
P ain radiates through my body from my knees to my nose. My lungs feel constricted from the weight on top of me. Dirt buries itself in my eyes despite being closed, making them feel like fire. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed razor blades from screaming without being heard over the sound of shouting and gunfire.
The heavy weight is lifted from my back, allowing my lungs to expand with welcome oxygen. The bindings around my hands are released, and blood returns to my numb limbs as I’m flipped on my back. Rough hands cup my face as soft sobs break through the ringing in my ears caused by the gunfire that seems to have ceased.
Graham.
“Open your eyes, Sunflower,” he brushes his fingers over my forehead, pushing strands of hair away. His touch is like a feather stroking me, but it brings much-needed comfort. I’m okay. “Please open your eyes, baby.”
My grime-coated lashes peel apart, fighting through the sting and the burn of the dirt scraping my eyes. Through muck and a haze of tears, I find his dark eyes staring at me. My heart stumbles and stutters at the sight of the man in front of me, full of torment and pain. Devastation lines his eyes. Anguish pulls his mouth.
I’ve known Graham Davis since I was ten years old.
He was the boy that let me use his phone to call my dad. When I was the girl with no friends and no escape from the loneliness, he spent his free time with me, taking me to the park, the mall, concerts… He made sure I found my escape.
He sat in the seats at every recital for years as my biggest cheerleader. He wiped away my tears when my mom made me feel worthless, telling me I was everything.
I’ve seen him happy and sad, laughing and raging. He’s always strong, stoic… brave.
Not once have I ever seen him cry.
But tears stream down his sharp features, staining his cheeks as he lifts me to his chest, burying his stubbled face in my neck.
And he sobs.
These aren’t soft or quiet. It’s not something he’s hiding. He’s openly crying against my neck as he murmurs I love yous and thank Gods against my ear.
“You saved me.” The words are strained, rough, as I push them past my raw vocal cords.
“Fuck, baby,” he cries against my skin, squeezing me into him tighter. “Fuck.”
A groan falls past my lips, his hold too much for my aching body, but when he tries to loosen his arms, mine finally decide to work, winding around him, holding him in place. “You saved me,” I say again, a little stronger than before.
“I didn’t.” His broken voice flays my heart. “I didn’t. I tried, but I couldn’t. I saw you go down… the bullets. I thought I lost you.”
My fingers find his hair, brushing through the short, thick strands. “I’m right here. I’m right here because you came.”
“Baby, I will always come for you. There’s not a place on this earth they could’ve gone, and I wouldn’t have found you.”
“You saved me,” I repeat. “You have always save me.” Then my brows furrow as I look at his arm, the crisp white sleeve now scarlet. “You’re hurt.”
He looks at his sleeve, then back to me. “It’s just a scratch. Are you hurt anywhere? Did they hurt you? Touch you?”
I shake my head. “Nothing that won’t heal in a day or two.” I won’t tell him about what the man did. Or almost did. We lie to protect each other. I know it’s messed up and wrong, but it’s right for us. Now it’s my turn to protect him. He doesn’t need the guilt I know he would feel if he knew. He doesn’t need his mind consumed with revenge for what almost happened.
Graham exhales hard, pulling me back to his chest. He continues to hold me tight as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear, and I cling to him almost afraid I will too. His tears continue to soak my skin, but his sobs soon turn to soft cries. “Fuck, if I had lost you, baby… I can’t… I don’t… Not without you,” his broken words shatter my heart while weaving around my spirit, filling me to the brim because I understand. I don’t want this life without him, either.
“,” my name escapes on a ragged breath. I lift my eyes, meeting Uncle Henry’s. His swirl with a combination of emotions that break my heart as he drops to his knees beside us. His big hand brushes over my hair, tears swimming in his worried eyes. “Fuck, kid, you scared the shit out of me.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I croak.
Graham pulls away, his brows furrowed deep between his brows. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do this.”
My lashes drop, knowing he’s right. A sob bubbles in my chest as everything crashes down on me. “M-mom…” She dragged me from the plane. For a brief moment, I thought somewhere deep inside she cared for me. That she was saving her daughter. But as she pulled me away, the only thing she said was something about needing Dad to drop the charges against her. She didn’t care for me at all.
I try to turn, wanting to find her, but Graham holds me in place. “She’s gone, Sunflower.” My eyes widen, and I try to turn again. “No, .” He cups my face between his hands. “You don’t need to see.”
Agony streams like a river down my cheeks. I shake my head back and forth as I drop my face into his chest. Whimpers shake my shoulders as too many emotions flood me at once.
Grief and relief at war within me.
She doesn’t deserve my tears. I don’t have a single good memory of her. My entire relationship with her was abusive and cruel, filled with nothing but pain that wreaked havoc on my mind and soul.
She brought me here to use me against my dad once again. She dragged me off that plane, through the gunfire, for the same reason.
I feel guilty for the relief that swims through me, knowing she can’t hurt me anymore. Assured she can’t hurt Noah as she did me.
But she was my mom. I loved her because unconditional love is just that—unconditional, without strings. I loved her despite her faults. I loved her without needing her love in return. I wanted it, but the lack of it didn’t make me love her less.
I grieve the mother I never had and the mother she could’ve been. My heart breaks that I’ll never know if she could’ve found—broken the chaotic cycle in her mind that made her like she was.
Graham rocks me in his arms as the tears continue to spill, hot and stinging over my broken and bruised flesh. His deep voice whispers in my ear, reassuring me he’s there. Telling me I can cry all I want. Promising he’s not letting me go.
And I let them spill until I think I have no more.
A throat clearing makes me look up. I see Will, looking at me with sympathy, and two other men I recognize from the party. A tall man with wide shoulders covered in tattoos, the one that reminds me of Maddox, speaks. “Get her out of her,” he nods at me. “We have to clean up.” He gestures to Will. “Your brother is on his way. This is as much his business as anyone’s. You stay.”
They argue for a moment. I don’t understand why, but my mind doesn’t care to figure it out. I have a question I need answered.
I look at Graham. “My m-mom,” my voice breaks as more tears spring to my eyes. “I-I can’t leave her here.”
Graham’s eyes fill with turmoil as his lips press together. I can see he doesn’t want to respond. My fingers dig at his shirt, pleading with him. “Please.”
The tattooed man drops beside us, looking at Graham and Uncle Henry first, then at me. From here, I can see his two-toned eyes, and they’re filled with understanding. “I’m sorry, bella ragazza . You can’t take her. No one can know what happened.”
“Wh-why?”
“Because there were a lot of laws broken and too much explaining to do. It’s best if we pretend it never happened, s ì.”
“How do I do that?” I whisper.
Graham presses his lips to my temple, a heavy sigh escaping him. “You won’t,” he says against my skin. “You’re not capable, but no one else can know. Okay, baby?”
I swallow hard around the turmoil in my throat. “Wh-what will you do with her?”
Another look passes between the men. “I’m not sure you want to know, dolcezza,” he admits. When Graham growls, he turns to him. “I won’t lie to her. It’s not what I do. You want it sugarcoated, then you answer the questions.”
“You didn’t give me a chance,” Graham spits, then looks at me. “Baby, your mom will be cremated. The evidence has to be destroyed. I’m sorry.”
I look at the man beside us, wiping the tears from my eyes. “Can I have her ashes?”
His head tilts to the side with curiosity. “Why would you want them? She’s why you are here? Why would you want her remains—to hang on to memories as if she was someone deserving of your care?”
“Because she was my mom.” I sniffle as I wipe my cheeks. “She wasn’t a good mom, but she was still my mom. The only one I had. I loved her despite her not loving me.”
His multicolored eyes look at me as if I’m some alien creature, narrowed and curious as he tilts his head to the other side. He turns his attention to the others around us who all shrug before returning his gaze to me, nodding once. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make promises.” He jerks his head at me, then toward the SUV. “Get her out of here. We’ll be right behind you.”
“I don’t care what you do,” Graham says as he scoops me into his arms, holding me tight.
“I can walk,” I assure him.
He shakes his head, placing his lips against my forehead, bringing me closer to him, though I’m unsure how. “No.” It’s a simple word that carries a lot of weight. He’s not ready to let me go. I don’t convince him otherwise because I’m not ready to let go either.